34: Emma

The compliment caught me off guard, warming something in my chest that had nothing to do with Artemis's constant approval of everything Theo said or did. I took another sip of wine to hide my reaction.

"Which neighbouring packs are near that border?" he asked, shifting the conversation slightly.

"Stone River is closest. They're small but vigilant about their borders." I hesitated, then added, "It's probably nothing serious. We get occasional loner shifters passing through—usually just nomads looking for new territory."

"Still, it's worth monitoring," Theo said, his tone serious without being alarming. "Particularly with everything else happening.”

The conversation flowed into updates about the displaced families staying with Blood Moon, Theo sharing his progress on the aid initiatives we'd discussed at breakfast. The server returned with our first course—some kind of seafood appetizer arranged like a miniature work of art on porcelain plates that probably cost more than a month of pack supplies.

"The council was... resistant to the reallocation of emergency funds," Theo admitted as we sampled the delicate dish. "Minister Bennett in particular seemed personally offended by the suggestion that furniture was less important than housing displaced wolves."

I snorted softly. "I'm shocked. Truly."

The dry comment earned me a genuine laugh—a warm, rich sound that made Artemis practically purr with contentment. "Yes, well. Sometimes the crown must simply assert its authority. The engineers will depart for Eclipse Moon territory tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," I said quietly, meaning it. "Those families have been displaced for too long."

"It never should have happened in the first place," he replied, his eyes meeting mine with unexpected intensity. "I meant what I said this morning about transparency and equality in resource distribution."

Our conversation paused as the server returned, clearing the appetizer plates and presenting our main course—perfectly cooked steaks for both of us, accompanied by lobster tails glistening with herb butter and delicate vegetables I couldn't immediately identify. The presentation was beautiful, the aromas making my mouth water despite my discomfort with such luxury.

"Tell me about your day," Theo said as we began eating. "Beyond dealing with Minister Stavros and training demonstrations, that is."

I smiled at the reference to the morning's confrontation. "Nothing quite so exciting. Mostly pack administration—training rotations, patrol schedules, the usual security concerns."

"You take your responsibilities very seriously," he observed.

I shrugged, cutting into my steak to avoid his gaze. "It's important work. The pack relies on our security systems."

Our fingers brushed as we both reached for our wine glasses, and we felt a spark—static from the dry air, but it jolted us nonetheless. The brief contact sent warmth coursing up my arm, settling somewhere behind my breastbone. Artemis surged forward again, eager and insistent.

‘He SEES us,’ she insisted. ‘Not just our body, not just our position. HE SEES US.’

The lobster was sweeter than I expected, the butter sauce complex with herbs I couldn't name. We continued talking, our conversation flowing from history to art, from pack politics to childhood memories. Theo described growing up in the royal palace, feeling simultaneously privileged and isolated. I shared stories of running wild with Elijah through Blood Moon forests, our parents' patient guidance in developing our natural abilities.

Time seemed to blur around the edges as the meal progressed, dessert appearing and disappearing without breaking the rhythm of our exchange. It felt dangerously easy, this connection. Nothing like the artificial charm Benjamin had deployed to win me over, but something more genuine—an actual meeting of minds alongside the undeniable pull of the mate bond.

When the server cleared the last of our plates, I realized with some surprise that nearly three hours had passed. The wine was long finished, replaced at some point with water that remained mostly untouched. Neither of us had wanted dulled senses, it seemed.

"I've enjoyed this evening immensely," Theo said, his eyes holding mine with that direct gaze that never felt invasive, only attentive. "Would you consider joining me again tomorrow? Perhaps for a walk through the royal gardens?"

Artemis practically danced with delight at the prospect of more time with our mate. My human side was more cautious, but I found I couldn't summon the fears that had plagued me earlier. Not gone, just... quieter.

"I'd like that," I said simply.

His smile in response made something flutter beneath my ribs. "Excellent."

As we rose to leave, his hand brushed against mine—a touch so brief it might have been accidental if not for the way his pupils dilated slightly, the quick intake of breath that told me he felt the same jolt of connection I did. My fingers tingled from the contact, but I felt a warmth in my chest, not an uncomfortable heat—more like hope. Dangerous, precious hope that maybe, just maybe, second chances were real.

Artemis had no doubts whatsoever. ‘Of course they're real,’ she huffed. ’He's ours. We're his. Simple.’

But as Theo escorted me from the private dining room back into the glittering, complicated world of the summit, I knew there was nothing simple about it. A werewolf gamma and the Lycan King. A woman still healing from past wounds and a man trying to reshape centuries of prejudice. The mate bond connecting us might be nature's dictate, but navigating what came next would be entirely our choice.

For the first time since recognizing our connection, I found myself almost looking forward to discovering what that choice might be.