“Fenrir,” Calder replied.
They didn’t shake hands.
They never did.
Calder turned to Selene. “Lady Morwen.”
She gave him a nod. “We’ve met.”
“Yes,” he said. “It was more of a pleasure then than this is now, I’m sure.” He nodded once more and headed back to where his father stood, the King of the Bear Shifters.
Last came Seraphine Drakar, and the entire hall seemed to lean toward her without realizing it.
She moved like fire—controlled, commanding, dangerous. Long dark braids laced with golden thread hung down her back, and her crimson eyes flicked over everyone like she was already deciding where to strike.
She smiled at Kael, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Awe, ever the sullen type,” she said, echoing Lucien’s earlier comment.
“Still terrifying,” he replied.
That earned the smallest smile from her. Her gaze moved to Selene—and stayed.
“You’re the girl everyone wants dead,” Seraphine said, voice light.
Selene met it head-on. “And yet, I keep disappointing them.”
Kael turned to hide his grin.
Seraphine laughed. “I like you already.”
The High Priestess finally arrived, flanked by Fenrir’s inner court, and the summit began.
Talk of territory. Threats near Veilbreak. Border raids. Peace treaties wearing thin.
Kael listened with half an ear, his senses tuned to every breath Selene took beside him. She didn’t speak unless spoken to, but when she did—gods, sheownedthe space.
Lucien smirked. Calder glowered, seeming ot be more distracted than usual. Seraphine watched.
She was winning allies, and she didn’t even realize it.
But Kael did.
Hours later, the summit paused for the ceremonial offering—a token gesture of peace between Houses.
Kael stepped away from the cluster, finally able to breathe.
Selene followed.
“Did I embarrass you?” she asked, her voice a little too even.
Kael turned to her, gaze dark. “You made Lucien shut up. That’s practically a miracle.”
She smiled, slow and soft.
And he wanted to kiss her so badly it ached. But not here. Not yet.
TWENTY-THREE