Healer Luna's Heart
His broad shoulders filled the doorway like a wall, but it was the sharp glint in his eyes—cold, distant—that twisted her stomach into knots.
Trailing behind him was Seraphina, wrapped in silk and arrogance, her platinum hair gleaming in the flicker of candlelight. The sight stole Seara’s breath—not out of shock, but from the sinking certainty she had fought so hard to ignore.
Something was wrong. Something was about to break.
Alaric’s voice dragged across the silence like steel scraping over stone.
“Luna Seara.”
The title sounded like an insult on his tongue.
She straightened, chin held high. “What is it, Alpha Alaric?”