Siena’s POV
The music fades, and so does Raiden’s touch.
His hands leave me as though my skin burns him, as though the very act of holding me is unbearable.
His movements sharp and deliberate, create a gulf between us that feels wider than the entire ballroom. My wolf growls low in my chest, restless and hurt, but I force her down, locking away the ache threatening to surface.
Not now Aaliyah.
"Siena, think about what you are doing. Think about Alpha Xeno—"
I lift my chin, keeping my expression neutral, regal even, growling internally, trying my best to ignore her.
The ballroom is full of wolves—predators, judges, opportunists—watching our every move. Waiting for me to falter. I refuse to give them the satisfaction. Even as my stomach twists and my chest tight
