The moment the doors of their suite in the Crescent Moon packhouse shut behind him, Michael felt the closing click like a judgment. Like a gavel. Like fate sealing a verdict he never agreed to.
Silence swallowed the room.
Warm golden lamps washed over carved wooden walls. Sage smoke curled lazily in the air, twining with the subtle pulse of Crescent Moon dominance — a quiet reminder that here, he was not the strongest male in the building. Not the one this territory bowed to.
He used to command rooms with breath alone. Now he had to measure every inhale.
He moved forward with slow, deliberate steps. Controlled. Too controlled. Luna Kathy was beside him, Beta Calvin and Roselyn just behind. Their bags were carried off by attendants, respectful, efficient. Their Crescent Moon escorts wai
