LOGIN(Sienna’s POV) I knock on the door of Arthur’s office, hesitantly. “Enter,” his deep voice booms from the other side of the hardwood construction. I do as instructed, holding my tongue. Goddess, he’s gorgeous He tilts his head to the side, studying me. With slightly squinted eyes and pursed lip
Glancing at her, I notice her nod, releasing the seams of her dress. Her right arm relaxes at her side, and she reaches for my hand with her left, lacing our fingers together. She stands to her full height, petite as it may be, with her shoulders straight and braced for the storm almost upon us. F
(Sienna’s POV)I wasn’t prepared. Arthur’s hands reach for my waist, pulling me taut to his chest. His arms could wrap around me twice, while his hands graze just slightly lower, gripping my ass. Butterflies flutter deep in my stomach at the sudden contact, the full invasion of my space by him. His
I reach for my wolf. Her depression is palpable, but she is alive…she is still improving. This is all for her... and my son, Owen... All this struggle will be worth it in the end. Improvement is still progress, even if it’s just baby steps.(Arthur’s POV) I’m bored listening to politician after po
(Sienna’s POV)An aide pulls Arthur away to handle a diplomatic emergency that, honestly, probably could have been sorted out with a simple email. I stand near the exit, sipping my champagne, taking this quiet moment alone to breathe. My wolf whispers in my mind. “You’re doing well, Sienna. Thank y
(Sienna’s POV)A full orchestra plays music designed to evoke tangled two-by-two movements.Strings bend to the will of those playing them in a serenely intimate cacophony that drowns out the existence of the others on the dance floor or the onlookers.For a short time, it doesn’t feel like a Royal
The words hit like a physical blow. My chest aches as if someone has reached in and twisted my heart. My wolf whimpers, a sound of pure, helpless grief.“I—” I start, but my throat closes.I force a breath in, tasting champagne and perfume and the faint metallic tang of my own rising pain. I want to
I knew something was wrong the second I stepped out of the elevator. The air outside my office felt too still, too quiet. My assistant’s scent—usually coffee and floral shampoo—was laced with nerves. When I opened the door, I understood why.Landon stood in the middle of my office like he owned it,
The official clarification I release is clean, sharp, and professional. My PR team helps me polish the language until it sounds like someone far steadier than I feel. We post it on every platform we have, attach certification documents, screenshots, statements from suppliers, everything short of car
I turn at the sound of my name and freeze.A small knot of women is standing a few feet away, clutching champagne flutes and designer clutches. I know them instantly. Landon’s pack. The same women who used to laugh behind their manicured hands about the wolfless nanny who would never be Luna, never







