46: Emma

The weight of diplomatic smiles had left tiny fractures across my composure by the time Theo suggested we call it a night. Three hours of circulating through the ballroom—nodding at Lycan ministers whose eyes evaluated me like I was a curiosity, accepting cautious introductions to werewolf alphas who couldn't quite hide their surprise at seeing me on the king's arm—had hollowed out something in me. Not even the warm pressure of Theo's hand at the small of my back could entirely ease the tension coiled between my shoulder blades.

"You've made quite the impression," Theo murmured as we slipped away from a cluster of ancient Lycans whose silver-streaked hair seemed to match the antiquated opinions they'd been sharing moments before. "I believe Lord Cassius nearly swallowed his tongue when you corrected his assumption about werewolf territory management."

"Was that undiplomatic of me?" I asked, though the slight curl at the corner of my mouth betrayed my lack of remorse.

"It was magnificent." His amber eyes warmed with approval, and I felt something unfurl in my chest—a dangerous, delicate hope.

We moved through the hall, now emptying of the night's revelers. Moonlight streamed through crystal windows, catching on the moonstone-infused pillars that lined our path. Even at this late hour, the intricate inlays along the floor—Lycan patterns interwoven with traditional werewolf symbols—seemed to glow with subtle promise.

"I think we've fulfilled our social obligations for one evening," Theo said, his voice dropping to a register that seemed meant only for my ears. "May I escort you back to your room?"

I nodded, suddenly aware of how the simple act of walking beside him carried weight. Every diplomat, minister, and pack representative who remained would note our departure together. In this world of careful symbolism, even the most innocent actions were dissected for meaning.

"The Eastern Gardens delegation seemed receptive to the joint agricultural initiatives," I said as we entered the elevator. My voice sounded too formal even to my own ears, a shield against the growing intimacy of the moment.

"They were. Though I suspect your suggestion about seasonal rotation was what truly won them over." The elevator ascended smoothly. "You have a talent for seeing the practical application that sometimes escapes those of us too steeped in theory."

"Three generations of watching my family balance pack needs against territorial limitations." I shrugged. "Nothing theoretical about winter hunger."

Something flashed across his face—not pity, which I would have resented, but a kind of reckoning. Theo might have been born into privilege, but I was beginning to understand that he carried the weight of that inequality like a personal failure.

"That's exactly why this summit matters," he said softly. "Too many decisions have been made without the voices of those who live with their consequences."

The elevator doors slid open on the sixth floor, revealing a corridor designed with the same thoughtful duality as the rest of the building. We walked in comfortable silence, the subtle scent of cedar and sage from cleansing rituals lingering in the air. My suite was at the end of the North Wing, chosen specifically for its privacy—a courtesy extended to me as both a distinguished guest and the sister of the Blood Moon Pack's Alpha.

Our footsteps slowed as we approached my door, the inevitable parting settling between us like a tangible thing. I fished the key card from my clutch, suddenly fascinated by its golden embossing.

"I had a lovely evening," I said, the words inadequate for the complex swirl of emotions the night had stirred.

"As did I." Theo stood close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him, could catch the subtle notes of his scent—old books and sandalwood and something uniquely him that made my wolf stir restlessly beneath my skin.

I slid the key card into the lock, hearing the mechanism click. The door opened slightly, revealing a sliver of my darkened suite beyond. I hesitated, my hand still on the handle. The invitation hovered unspoken on my tongue. I could ask him in. For a nightcap, for conversation, for... more. The thought sent heat spiraling through me, followed immediately by a cold wave of uncertainty.

What were we doing, really? A werewolf and the Lycan king. The sister of an Alpha and the ruler of the realm. The summit was meant to bridge centuries of division, not to facilitate whatever was growing between us. And yet—

"Emma," Theo said, my name an entire sentence in his mouth.

I met his gaze, finding no impatience there, no demand, only a warm understanding that somehow made everything more complicated. He knew. Of course he knew. The conflict written across my face must have been as clear to him as the moon overhead.

"We have time," he said, lifting his hand to brush a strand of hair from my face. His fingers lingered at my temple, a ghost of a touch that sent shivers cascading down my spine. "All the time in the world."