My Luna.
Fuck.
Even thinking the word softened something dangerous inside me.
I still had no idea what exactly she was to me yet.
Girlfriend felt ridiculous.
Too small.
Too human.
Mate?
Maybe.
But not yet.
It was too soon for her.
For me?
The truth was becoming harder to deny every passing day.
Every instinct I possessed curled helplessly toward her.
Protect her.
Watch her.
Keep her close.
Mine.
The possessiveness of the thought no longer startled me the way it should have.
Maybe because I had spent so long convinced fate hated me that finally finding someone who felt right bordered on religious revelation.
And gods—Amrin was nothing like Ingrid.
The realization hit me often lately.
Painfully often.
When I’d walked in on Erik and Ingrid all those fucking years ago, I thought my entire future had collapsed around me.
The future Menon Blau reduced to some pathetic lovesick fool watching his older brother claim the woman he thought destiny intended for him.
I remembered the mating ceremony afterward.
Máni’s blessing illuminating them both while the Clan celebrated their union beneath lunar fires.
Another nail in my coffin.
That was how it had felt back then.
Like fate itself had rejected me.
