I'm the Luna He Can't Touch
Three years after Alpha King Damien Caldwell marks me, Drake Whitaker finally remembers I exist. Turns out he really believes I'll "wait for him forever."
Twenty black SUVs clog the private road into Ridgefield pack territory, trunks crammed with moonstone jewelry, old talismans, and rare herbs.
Drake steps out of the tricked-out Hummer, wearing a smug smile and clutching a stack of parchment contracts.
"Aria," he calls up, like some medieval knight, "I told you once the Silvermoon Coalition was official and Kenneth's supply lines were stable, I'd bring you to my pack.
"The High Council finalized five packs yesterday. I came first thing this morning to show you I mean it."
I sit in the
Bab Populer