32: Emma

‘Wear what makes you feel strong,’ Artemis suggested, her mental voice unusually practical.

For once, I agreed with her completely. This dinner would be challenging enough without the added insecurity of wearing something that didn't feel like me. I selected dark gray trousers that were tailored but comfortable, paired with a deep green silk blouse that Elena had insisted I buy during our last shopping trip to the city. "It matches your eyes exactly," she'd said, and I had to admit she was right. The colour brought out the green in my eyes while complementing my dark hair.

As I dressed, I found myself remembering the first formal dinner I'd attended with Benjamin. He'd selected my outfit – a revealing dress in his pack's colours that had made me uncomfortable from the moment I put it on. When I'd suggested wearing something else, his smile had gone cold. "A proper luna reflects her Alpha's tastes, not her own," he'd said, his tone light but his eyes hard. I'd worn the dress, feeling exposed and diminished all evening. It was the first of many small surrenders that had ultimately led to larger ones.

I fastened a simple silver pendant around my neck – a crescent moon that had been my mother's – and let my still-damp hair fall in its natural waves rather than attempting any elaborate styling. A touch of mascara, a hint of tinted lip balm, and I was done. The woman in the mirror looked like me – not a version dressed up to impress royalty or fit Lycan standards, but simply Emma. Gamma of Blood Moon Pack. Survivor.

The pendant rested cool against my collarbone, just above the faint scar that Benjamin had left. I touched it lightly, remembering the night everything had changed, the night I'd finally understood what the growing discomfort of our bond had been trying to tell me.

We'd been arguing about my friendship with a male pack member – a childhood friend Benjamin had decided was too familiar with me. His jealousy had been escalating for weeks, his control tightening in small ways I'd tried to dismiss. But that night, when I'd pushed back, insisted on my right to maintain friendships...

The memory of his hand striking my face, of my head snapping back with the force of the blow, still had the power to make me flinch. It wasn't the physical pain that had broken me – werewolves could endure far worse. It was the shock of betrayal, the realization that the mate bond I'd trusted had connected me to someone capable of such violence.

I'd fled that night, running in wolf form through bitter cold to the nearest pack border, where I'd howled for Elijah. My brother had come immediately, breaking protocol by entering another Alpha's territory without permission. He'd found me huddled in a sheltered corner of the territory's perimeter, blood from my split lip staining the snow beneath me.

"Never again," I whispered to my reflection, the promise I'd made myself that night. Never again would I surrender my autonomy to anyone, mate bond or not.

Yet here I was, preparing for dinner with a new mate. A king, no less. Someone with more power, more authority, more potential for control than Benjamin had ever possessed.

’Different,’ Artemis insisted again. ‘Theo doesn't want to control. Wants partnership. Respects our strength.’

I wanted to believe her. The evidence supported her assessment – Theo's respect for my skills, his immediate defense of me against Minister Stavros, the gentleness in his touch despite his obvious strength. But Benjamin had seemed perfect too, in the beginning.

The chime of my phone pulled me from these dark reflections. A text from Elijah: ‘You ok? Need me to check in before your dinner?’

My brother, still protective after all these years. I smiled despite my churning thoughts.

’I'm fine,’ I replied. ’Just getting ready.’

His response came quickly: ‘Remember who you are. Blood Moon's gamma. A true Alpha. My sister. The strongest wolf I know.’

The simple affirmation settled something in me. Yes, I was all of those things. And I had survived Benjamin. I had rebuilt myself, stronger and wiser. Whatever happened with Theo, I would face it on my terms, with clear boundaries and open eyes.

I checked the time – quarter to eight. Taking a deep breath, I slipped my key card into my pocket and took one final look in the mirror. The woman who gazed back at me wasn't the naive wolf who had fallen for Benjamin's charm. She was someone who had been broken and had painstakingly reassembled the pieces into something more resilient.

As I left my room and headed toward the elevators, I set my shoulders back, chin lifted in the posture that had carried me through countless diplomatic functions and pack crises. The corridor stretched before me like a path into unknown territory – beautiful, dangerous, and entirely mine to navigate as I saw fit.

Artemis walked with me, her presence steady and certain. For once, we were in perfect alignment – cautious yet open to possibility. Whatever awaited me at dinner with Theo, I would face it as myself. Not as the Lycan King's potential mate, not as a werewolf gamma in a Lycan court, but simply as Emma Maxwell.

The elevator doors closed behind me, and I descended toward whatever the evening might bring.