THE PALACE GROUNDS are alive with music and firelight. Drums and flutes rise in a rhythm that carries across the night, mixing with the laughter of wolves drunk on joy and wine. Astra and Lucian’s bond is sealed, their vows spoken beneath the moon. Now the celebration spills over the lawns, where tables are heaped with roasted meats, sweet fruits, and pitchers of mead. Lanterns swing from the branches overhead, casting everything in warm gold.
I should be among them. Celebrating my king, my friend. Instead, I lean against a tree at the edge of it all, arms crossed, jaw tight.
Leon stands beside me, motionless as stone. His voice cuts through the music, low and even.
“You keep staring like that, you’ll burn a hole in her.”
My gaze doesn’t shift.
“I’m not staring.”
But I am.
Selene is
