Luara's parents accepted hosting Cassian without questioning much. Her father just crossed his arms, assessed the man with that serious look of an alpha used to commanding respect, and nodded slowly. Her mother, more practical, only asked that he leave his boots at the door and not make noise after eleven.

Luara kept her face neutral, a polite smile stuck on her lips, but her restless fingers gave away her discomfort. With each word of courtesy she said, she lightly squeezed her own ...