The Crescent Heir
He set his cup down on the ledge and exhaled — long and heavy, like he was setting something down along with it.
"Isabeau's cocktail had me, though. Whatever that woman puts in those drinks—" he muttered, then caught himself and moved on. "Anyway." He straightened. "It's not public, not announced, not on any Crescent record. But my mother is right." He looked at Anna directly. "I'm Alpha of Alphas, it's a divine title — not inherited, not voted on, gifted. Chosen by something older than any of us."
The words settled over Anna heavy. Everything she'd ever heard as myth, as legend, as bedtime stories told to frighten and fascinate — it was real, all of it, standing right in front of her with a