Paris’ POV
Conlan was an excellent dancer, which contrasted sharply with his serious, challenging bearing and vigilant gaze. I was surprised by the rhythm of his movements, the ease with which he carried himself across the floor, and how quickly he drew everyone’s attention—not because he was the Alpha, for hierarchies melted away in that festive atmosphere, but because of his skill on the dance floor. As his partner, I noticed the looks that swept over me—some wondering who I was, others answering with satisfaction that I was the chosen one, the Alpha’s companion, his mate, the woman they had been waiting for since the day Conlan succeeded his father as leader of the pack.
As we danced, the crowd gathered around us, animated and carried away by the spirit of celebration.
“I didn’t expe
