The Ruthless Alpha’s Omega Luna
“I’m so sorry, pup. About all of it.”
Before I can respond, the door swings open again. Zane enters, his massive frame filling the doorway as he balances a large, leather-bound book in his arms. The tome looks ancient, its cover worn smooth by countless hands over what must be centuries. His steel-grey eyes find mine immediately, something unreadable flickering in their depths.
“James,” he says, nodding toward the chair across from us. “Take a seat.”
My father squeezes my hand once before releasing it and moving to the indicated chair. Zane settles the book on his desk with surprising gentleness before taking his own seat beside me. I can feel the heat radiating from him, a constant reminder
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