I loved my deceased wife, but I was still a man. My eyes appreciated the view, even as I felt some annoyance that other males were being offered the same. Ian, for instance, had no right to see her. Especially this close, one look down left little to the imagination.
After noticing that, I purposefully kept my gaze on her face.
It was a face I loved well, Amelia’s face, and even more entrancing than her body.
Amelia would have liked events like this. Dressing up. Dancing. Drinks and good food and laughter.
Regret filled me now, knowing I had kept her hidden away during these kinds of social functions, afraid of how people would treat my human wife.
Amelia had always tried to keep her spirits up, but I had not been blind to the way the comments from members of my pack had affected her.
