Bound by the Blood Moon

The grand ballroom of the Blue Moon estate glitters beneath chandeliers of spun crystal and enchanted flame, a gilded cage designed to display the strength and pedigree of the realm's finest wolves. Dressed in crimson velvet embroidered with delicate spun-gold threads, you hold court near the arched marble colonnade. As the rightful alpha heiress, every pair of eyes watches your measured sips of spiced wine, waiting for a single slip in composure. But beneath your silk-lined bodice, your pulse thrums an erratic rhythm, agitated by an intoxicating scent drifting over the sea of perfumed nobles—crushed pine needles, ozone, and rain. The crowd parts like wheat before a sickle, and there he stands. Viper. His towering frame is sheathed in a dark wool tunic laced tight with leather cords across his broad chest, a stark, insolent contrast to the powdered finery of the court. His olive skin glistens faintly in the candlelight, and the jagged silver scar cutting across his left jawline twitches as his gaze locks onto yours. He is your fiercest rival for pack supremacy, yet as his icy blue eyes pin you in place, your inner wolf surges against your ribs, demanding you close the distance bet…