Dance With Me.

The car ride was silent but not uncomfortable.

Zara sat beside me, her hands resting lightly on her lap, her gaze fixed out the window. The soft lights from passing streets reflected off the diamond chain around her neck it looked like stardust resting against her skin.

I couldn’t stop stealing glances.

She was... breathtaking. And not in the overused, shallow sense. I mean it in the kind of way that makes you forget how to breathe for a second. Her dress simple but elegant hugged her frame like it was made just for her. Her hair was swept into a loose bun, a few strands brushing her face just right. And her scent Goddess it messed with my head.

She didn’t say much. But I noticed how her fingers fidgeted slightly, betraying her nerves. I wanted to say something to reassure her. But for once, I didn’t know how to speak without sounding like a fool.

Instead, I just watched her. Her profile, calm and composed, was illuminated every few seconds by the glow of passing lights. She didn’t realize how much she stood out. She didn’t need glitter or extravagance. She had a presence one that made everything around her dim in comparison.

When we finally pulled up to the venue, the place was already alive with energy flashing lights, sleek cars lining the drive, security details stationed with calm precision, and a red carpet leading into the grand hall. Cameras clicked somewhere in the distance, though this wasn’t meant to be a public event. It's just important enough that someone, somewhere, always wanted to document it.

Dax and Mika arrived just behind us. Dax looked calm as usual stoic, unreadable but Mika was practically bouncing, her eyes lit with excitement. She waved at Zara through the glass, mouthing something I didn’t catch.

“Ready?” I asked her quietly.

Zara took a breath, then nodded. It was subtle, but sure.

I stepped out first and offered my hand to help her down. The moment she stepped out, time slowed.

Heads turned.

I wasn’t imagining it. Every single person near the entrance turned to look at her. Some blinked in surprise. Others whispered. Alphas, Betas, council members... everyone noticed her. Their eyes followed her with a kind of reverence and envy.

She didn’t notice at first. Her eyes were on the lights, the glittering chandeliers just beyond the massive doors, the soothing music floating through the air. She took it all in with wide, composed eyes, a small, stunned smile playing on her lips.

It hit me then she had never been to something like this before.

There was wonder in her face. But she didn’t gape or look lost. No. She carried herself with quiet grace, like the Luna she was born to be.

And Goddess, I felt proud.

Too proud.

As we walked up the steps, I noticed one Alpha whisper something to his Beta while staring a little too long at Zara. My jaw tightened.

Without thinking, I reached for her hand and pulled her slightly closer to me. She glanced up at me in surprise, but I said nothing. I didn’t need to.

She was mine.

And I’d be damned if anyone looked at her like they had a chance.

We entered the hall together. Mika and Dax weren’t far behind. The ball was in full swing crystal chandeliers casting golden light from the ceilings, deep gold decor lining the walls, and a soft carpet beneath our feet. Music from a live orchestra echoed across the space. The most powerful wolves from across the nation mingled with drinks in hand, their conversations layered over the symphony.

People greeted us almost immediately. Alphas, council elders, business tycoons. I kept my tone polite but short. Zara stayed close, quiet, nodding respectfully when introduced.

But all the while, I felt eyes on her. Admiring. Watching.

And the strange part? She didn’t even seem to notice. She smiled gently when spoken to, kept her poise, didn’t shrink or shy away. She looked like she belonged.

And I hated that I had ever doubted her.

We found our table and sat. I poured her a drink before I touched mine. She murmured a quiet thank-you, her eyes still drifting across the expanse of the hall, as if memorizing every detail.

“She’s lovely,” someone whispered beside me.

I didn’t even turn to see who said it.

“I know,” I replied.

And tonight, for the first time in a long time, I wasn't just standing beside a Luna.

I was standing beside my Luna.

And it scared me to think i didn't know what i wanted. I didn’t want to let her go.

I watched her lift her glass, her lips brushing the rim as she took a slow sip. Her eyes were elsewhere, thoughtful, and curious. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she overwhelmed? Did she feel out of place? Or did she feel exactly like she was meant to be here?

People continued to greet us, and she responded with grace never overstepping, never retreating. She struck a balance I’d seen very few manage. Regal without being cold. Reserved without being timid.

Mika joined us at the table, still buzzing with energy. “This place is incredible!” she said, taking in the view. Then she turned to Zara with a grin. “And you you look like a goddess. I swear, half the room couldn’t take their eyes off you.”

Zara blushed faintly and gave a small laugh, the sound light and musical. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” Mika insisted. “I almost tripped coming up the steps because I was too busy watching how everyone else was watching you.”

Zara shook her head, but the corner of her mouth curled upward. She glanced at me briefly, and I caught that flicker in her eyes part surprise, part gratitude.

The orchestra changed tempo, slipping into a slower rhythm the kind that invited couples to the dance floor with soft strings and tender piano notes.

I looked at her again.

Would she want to dance?.I didn’t think twice this time.

“Would you like to dance?” I asked, leaning in closer so she could hear me over the delicate sound of music.

She turned her head slowly, caught off guard. “Uhh... I don’t know how to,” she admitted nervously, her eyes flickering with hesitation.

“You don’t have to do anything serious,” I said, offering a small smile. “Just follow my lead.”

Without waiting for a reply, I took her hand and gently led her onto the dance floor. We found our space among them.

I placed one hand carefully at the small of her back, drawing her closer, while my other hand held hers securely. Her hand slid up to my shoulder, her fingers resting lightly at first certain but then settling.

Her touch was soft, unsure... but grounding.

“Vulvan, no, please I suck at this,” she whispered, half-laughing, half-panicked.

“I’ll guide you,” I said gently. “I promise.”

She sighed, almost giving in, and I wrapped both hands around her waist as the music wrapped around us. We began to move. Her first few steps were clumsy, a bit out of rhythm, but it wasn’t obvious. Not to anyone but me.

And then, slowly, she got the hang of it.

I watched her carefully, matching her pace, keeping my steps steady so she could mirror them. Her eyes met mine once, briefly, and then she lowered her gaze, resting her head against my shoulder.

All around us, couples moved to the rhythm. The air was thick with perfume and candle wax, muffled conversation, and the distant clinking of champagne flutes.

But I barely noticed any of it.

Right now, all I wanted was her.

To have her in my arms like this close, quiet, vulnerable was more than enough.