He extended his hand toward me. I hesitated, the gesture tightening something in my chest. I didn’t want his touch, yet I gave in, slipping my hand into his. Together we moved through the sea of strangers—werewolves from every corner of the world—come to witness Xavier’s bride.

He introduced me to men whose smiles were sharpened by power, rich billionaires with polished suits and hungering eyes. Their names blurred together, but their gazes lingered too long, as though weighing my ...