The Bastard Luna: His Unwanted Mate
I set my wine glass down and smiled again and said something appropriate about the proposed trade terms Roland was outlining, and the conversation moved on without noticing that I was only partially in it.
Selene, beside me, touched my arm lightly. When I looked at her she was smiling — luminous, perfectly composed, every inch the future Luna she had been raised to become. She was beautiful. She was accomplished. She was exactly what the pack needed beside its Alpha, and we both knew it, and we had built something functional and respectful from that knowledge. It wasn’t the bond. But it was solid. It was chosen. It was the kind of union that didn’t destroy people.