MasukOn his left breast, he wears his medals of honor. I had forgotten he actually served with the Gamma class in the military for a number of years before assuming the crown from his father.He wears a crimson sash around his waist that matches the roses in my bridal bouquet. He stands at the altar, loo
(Sienna’s POV) I assume Arthur inherited his mother’s taste. The dress she commissioned for me is emerald green velvet, only floor-length. Instead of lace and a gold belt, it has a conservative soft scoop neck that follows the curve of my collarbone. It has a high empire waist with intricate gold
(Sienna’s POV) Catherine and Elizabeth are nothing if not punctual. They arrive at 8 AM sharp for our scheduled fitting with their attendants in tow to assist with dressing them. Both dresses are sewn to their specific measurements. Oh, moon goddess, please help these dresses fit. Queen Catherine
“A meeting?” I repeat. “You said that already, but it is evening and you have dressed me up like a Barbie doll getting ready for a cocktail party and now, we’re in a limo. Explain yourself. Start by dropping the cryptic crap.” “Dinner and dancing,” he says with a shrug. My wolf prances through my
(Sienna’s POV)A dry, humorless laugh escapes Elizabeth’s lips. “What she should expect on her wedding night is for Arthur to be thinking about Charlotte. And if he takes his so-called bride to the marital bed at all, he’ll be thinking about Charlotte, even then.” I scowl at Elizabeth for a moment,
I place the three designs on easels for their perusal. Queen Catherine walks between them, studying them carefully, followed by Elizabeth, who does the same.I walk along with them to point out all the distinguishing features. “The material will be radzimir silk,” I explain. “It was a favorite of Q
Arthur looked at me like my rejection had short-circuited something in his brain. For half a second, his mask slipped. Then the pressure in the room shifted as he let his dominance out on purpose, as if he could force me to reconsider through sheer intimidation.The air thinned, but I held my ground
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 slam my phone down so hard the screen shakes.“That arrogant jerk,” I hiss. “He thinks this is a game.”My pulse races so fast it feels like it’s in my throat. For a second, I want to throw the phone at the wall, but I need it—so I curl my fingers into fists until my nails sting. Part of me wants
After the banquet, all I want is a hot shower, my bed, and thirty minutes without my phone buzzing.But clearly, bad luck was still following me.Instead, when the car drops me off and I walk toward my building, a figure steps out from the shadows near the entrance. Of course. Landon.He’s leaning







