The THORN LUNA
I knocked once, then let myself in.
He was seated near the hearth, a book in his lap, but I could tell by the way he stared at the fire that he hadn’t been reading.
“Emily,” he said, without looking at me.
“Alpha.”
He set the book down slowly. Then turned.
Jacob was a handsome man—objectively, I suppose. Strong jaw, thick hair, golden eyes that flickered with too much ambition. But everything about him felt artificial. His charm was a performance. His strength, borrowed. He wore power like a second skin, but it never quite fit.
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