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burn the sauce,” she whispered.

“Damn it.” The sauce had splattered on the lid and seeped onto the burner, making a giant mess. Part of Drake wanted to leave the spill, let the spaghetti burn, so that he could ravish Emelia again and again. How was it possible that she had become a welcome distraction in every part of his life, in just a few short weeks? “Let’s eat.”

They ate on the table poised between the kitchen and living room. Drake couldn’t bear the royal-like formality of the dining room. Not with Emelia. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t…fit. He didn’t want ten empty chairs between them as they sat on opposite heads of the table. He wanted Emelia close. Beside him. Where he could rub her thigh beneath the table between bites if the urge struck him.

Through dinner, Emelia had a million questions about the transition and what to expect, and Drake answered every one honestly, with as much clarity as he could. And every time he had the impulse to rub her thigh, he did. Although Emelia smiled and seemed to tremble at his touch, her sapphire eyes remained guarded. Even as she pulled her hand away, she hesitated as if removing her hand from his went against her deepest wishes.

What was holding her back from getting close to him outside of the bedroom? Could she not feel how deep their connection had rooted?

“Some of what happened at the gala is still a blur,” Emelia said, finishing up the last of the spaghetti, “but I remember your brother saying something about ruling the pack.”

Lost in thought, Drake clinked his fork against his plate. “Why would he mention that to you?”

“I think he said something about using me to get all of it…the pack and the estate.”

“Shit.” Dropping his fork, Drake leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, as if he needed to brace himself against hurricane force gusts of wind. “He was going to hold you ransom for everything. Son of a bitch. He must’ve been the one to send that goon to attack you in the parking lot…I should never have underestimated him.”

Emelia blanched. “Your brother sent that guy?”

“Not guy, Emelia. Werewolf.”

“Shit is right.” She guzzled her glass of wine and poured another.

“I should’ve told you, but I wanted to ease you into my world. I didn’t even know if you’d want to be a part of it. Guess there’s no choice anymore.”

“Why me? I mean, why do I matter, anyway?” Emelia’s neck flushed red, showing the signs of a pre-transition temper flare. “Why does your brother care who I am or bother sending some guy to attack me? Until two months ago, I was just a bartender. I’m nobody in your world.”

“No, you’re more than that.” Drake took her hand and squeezed when she tried to pull away. Her skin was scorching hot. “There’s something I haven’t told you. Something I’ve been waiting to say until the right moment.”

“You know, I’m barely on board with the werewolf thing. I’m already prepared to invest in Nair to take care of the nasty hair problem I’ll have. Do you know how many hours it’d take to wax a wolf? I Googled it!” She nodded quickly, prompting him to answer, but left him no time to do so. “Like ten hours, Drake, ten! Now you’re springing another surprise on me? If you say I’m gonna sprout three heads or become the next Godzilla, I might have you kill me now.”

“You’re my Luminary,” he said, throat drying, heart drumming. “You’re the one I’m destined to be with, the one who makes my life whole and complete. You’re the one I’ve been waiting for my entire life. But the same thing that makes you my heart’s greatest blessing makes you Silas’s greatest threat. I guess I didn’t realize how bad he wanted to be Alpha until now.”

“Hold the phone.” Emelia licked her lips slowly, her gaze homing in on the hard angles of Drake’s face. “If you’re with me, you get control over the whole pack? Like a private army, all to yourself?”

“There is something specific that has to happen for us to complete the Luminary bond, but basically…yes.”

“Listen, Drake—”

“Wait,” he said. “There’s more.”

“I don’t think I can take much more.”

He sighed, though the breath did little to release the tension hardening his body to stone. “As the new Alpha, it’s expected that I have heirs to the throne, but a female turned werewolf has never survived

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