When Killian heard his father announce the marking and mating rituals, his eyes instinctively found Isabella.
She stood with her head bowed, fingers twisting nervously in front of her. The sight pulled last night’s memories into his mind.
Across the crowded hall, his gaze caught Maya’s. Her eyes blazed red with anger, fixed on him like a predator ready to strike. Killian’s jaw tightened. He was trapped—between his father’s will and Maya’s love. But to him, it wasn’t really a choice. He wasn’t doing this just because his father demanded it. No—this was because the pack wanted a Luna. And his father had already chosen Isabella.
Seven priests stepped onto the stage, their long robes sweeping against the wooden floor. They began chanting in low, rhythmic tones, their voices weaving together
