Mark by Destiny.
The morning sun spilled across the stone corridors of Silvermoon’s great hall, but no warmth reached Kaelen. He sat at the long table alone, his fingers drumming restlessly against the polished wood. The servants moved about cautiously, their heads lowered, afraid to meet his gaze. The tension that hung around him was palpable, a storm threatening to break.
The heavy doors opened, and Ravena swept in. She was radiant, draped in a flowing crimson gown that clung to her curves, her dark hair gleaming like silk. She moved with deliberate grace, every step calculated to remind him that she was his Luna now.