Kyllian arrived at the peace talks dressed in his royal garb, embroidered with the crest of the Werewolf Kingdom. Talon walked beside him in stoic silence, while two personal guards flanked them, their sharp eyes scanning the neutral territory with rigid discipline.
The location was an ironic choice for such a tense meeting, the humble little café situated in between boundaries.
Luciver and Damien were already seated at the wrought-iron table outside the café. Both vampires looked surprisingly relaxed, sipping from identical porcelain cups.
But Kyllian's attention was immediately drawn to the woman seated beside Damien. Luna.
His Luna.
She wore a gown that hugged her frame elegantly. Her cheeks had regained some color, and the slight curve of her belly was visible if one knew where to look. He did.
She looked radiant.
