Zoe POV

The howl tears through the ballroom.

The music stops. Dancers freeze mid-step.

Every head turns toward the entrance.

And there he is.

Noah Carter, my mate.

His white shirt is wrinkled. Damp with sweat. No jacket. His hair is disheveled. He looks like he ran here.

My brain goes blank.

'He's here. Noah is here.'

I haven't seen him in so long. Months. The last time—

The memory hits. Noah on his throne. Me on my knees. Blood ...