Mary Ann’s POV
Our first wedding reception had felt like a council meeting with music.
Everyone had watched everyone else.
Ironclaw had watched Mooncrest.
Mooncrest had watched Ironclaw.
The elders had watched Modric and me as though every glance between us needed to confirm that the alliance was working.
I had spent most of that night wondering whether my new husband wanted to escape.
He had.
Tonight, my husband was trying to stop Kylian from telling three packs about the first time he attempted to court me.
“And then,” Kylian announced, raising his glass, “our mighty Alpha spent nearly forty minutes choosing a book.”
The garden erupted with laughter.
I covered my face.
Modric stood beside me.
“Kylian.”
Kylian ignored him.
“He had survived assassination attempts.”
“Kylian.
