Azriel’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with that familiar, playful intensity. “Well, I have to make sure I match my Luna, don’t I?”
She chuckled, leaning in to brush her lips against his in a soft kiss. “You always do.”
Hand in hand, they made their way out of the room, ready to face the night ahead. As they descended the grand staircase that led toward the ballroom, their coordinated outfits caught the eyes of the few pack members they passed. Lora could hear the whispers of admiration, both for Azriel’s commanding presence and her own radiant beauty. Together, they were the perfect picture of strength and grace, the Alpha and Luna of the Stormheart pack.
As they neared the grand hall, the sound of music began to filter through the air: soft, elegant notes of a live orche
