SERAPHINA’S POV
The OTS hall had been gorgeously transformed. Silken banners cascaded from the rafters, catching light from the chandeliers above so that everything shimmered with a faint golden glow.
The air thrummed with conversation, a low hum of power and politics interwoven with laughter, glasses clinking, and the weight of eyes that seemed to evaluate everything at once.
Guests poured in steadily—Alphas in tailored suits, Lunas draped in masterpieces of curves and contours, allies and rivals mingling under one roof.
And at my side, Lucian.
I slipped my hand into the crook of his arm, pulse steady despite the cloud of expectation hovering over the room.
The necklace he’d gifted me two nights ago rested cool and solid against my collarbone, its pendant a reminder with every subtle shift of movement. His grandmother’s legacy—meant for the woman who was worthy to stand beside him.
Tonight, I had to live up to that.
