“Let’s start with your name,” he says softly.
“I’m Luna. Luna Woods.”
“Luna,” he repeats slowly, like he’s tasting the syllables. “A beautiful name for a beautiful female.”
Heat rushes to my face. Nobody’s ever called me beautiful without mockery.
His thumb traces my cheekbone with such reverence, I nearly sob from relief. I don’t know what compels me to say it, maybe because I sense he won’t judge, but the words spill out, anyway.
“I’m far from perfect,” I whisper, so quietly only he can hear. “I’m broken. More broken than you know. But right now, I feel whole. Like all the missing pieces I’ve been searching for my entire life are finally falling into place.”
His eyes soften with understanding. “I’ve been broken too, Luna,” he whispers back, his voice raw with vulnerability. “We can heal each other.”
A slow smile spreads across his face as his nostrils flare. “Your scent is intoxicating,” he murmurs, but then seems to catch himself, glancing around at the watching crowd. He clears his throat and speaks louder, more formally. “I should introduce myself properly.”
His hand finds mine, and he lifts it to his lips in a gesture that’s both intimate and public-appropriate.
“I’m Conrad. Conrad Clawford the Third.”
My eyes widen. “Conrad Clawford?”
This man is the son of our President, his face splashed across shifter tabloids, the same one the news anchor praised just hours ago. A tall, imposing shadow moves behind Conrad, and there he is—the political leader himself, the one whose narrow views usually send me into fits of rage.
His eyes bore into mine, cold and assessing. I feel the weight of his judgment crawling across my skin.
I glance away as threads of discomfort worm through me.
“Yes, it seems you’ve hit the mate jackpot,” Conrad says, and there’s something different in his voice now; cockier, more performative. He nods at a nearby table of shifters, his smile becoming more polished, more practiced.
The loving, understanding mate is fading into the arrogant politician I know him to be.
My smile falters, but then something shifts within me. A faint yet unmistakable warmth stirs deep inside.
It’s her.
My wolf.
For a moment, I can’t breathe, tears blurring my vision as a wave of emotion crashes over me; relief, joy, love. After so many years of silence, she’s finally here.
I close my eyes, overwhelmed, pouring my love and gratitude into her.
I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been so alone. Please stay with me. I love you. I need you.
She responds with a gentle nudge, like the brush of a paw against my heart. She’s hesitant but present.
I tell her how much I’ve missed her and longed for this moment. She’s not just part of me; she is me. I reassure her that she is accepted and safe. I promise to protect her always.
Tears flow freely, but I don’t care. This moment is perfect. I have my wolf, my scent match. Everything will be okay.
“Aww, don’t worry, sweetheart. Joining such a prestigious family might be intimidating, but you’ll only have to stand there and look pretty. Nothing more will be required of you.”
My eyes snap open, confusion flooding me. “No, you don’t understand, my wolf… she’s… happy.”
“Of course, she’s happy. I’m the most sought-after bachelor, after all.” He smiles, then adds, “You’ll make me a ton of babies, of course. But that’s the fun part, right?” He winks.
“Babies? I’m not even sure I want them,” I say with a nervous chuckle, unease swirling further inside me. I just found my wolf; I’m not ready for pups.
“Now, now, don’t be difficult,” Conrad says, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s a female’s duty to bear children.”
