Lucian
I stand at the edge of the training yard, hidden in the shadows of a broad oak, watching Amara and Lena practice. The morning sun crowns Amara’s dark hair in a halo of golden light as she twirls a thin, glimmering blade in one hand and weaves arcs of raw energy with the other. Proud, aching pride swells in my chest. Here she is at last – my mate, my Amara – training with focus and strength. Each deft strike of her arm and each swirl of her magic-laden incantation reminds me of how far she’s come. She has agreed to stand beside me and learn to channel her power, and for that I am grateful. A fierce, possessive warmth pools in my veins as I watch the lean muscles of her shoulders shift under her tunic. How beautiful she is in her determination.
Yet beneath that pride lurks a
