Benedict

When I arrived at Alpha Waylon’s pack, I stood in stunned silence as Sloane walked down the stairs of the packhouse to meet me.

“Why are you staring at me?” she frowns.

“Every time I think you couldn't be more gorgeous, you prove me wrong,” I tell her.

The dress she’s wearing is casually elegant, with thin straps for sleeves. But it’s her long brown hair that falls in soft curls nearly to her waist that has me so stunned.

“How am I supposed to remember my speech ...