“On your knees.”Roman’s voice cut through the grand hall like a blade drawn across silk.The command was quiet, but it carried , over the murmurs of the gathered pack, over the clinking of goblets and the heavy scent of wine and cedar smoke.Luna froze.Every eye in the hall turned toward her.The celebration had begun as a show of dominance , a banquet for the neighboring Alphas, an exhibition of Roman’s unchallenged power. The tables gleamed with silver. The air shimmered with the heat of the torches. And at the head of it all sat Roman, dressed in black and gold, his eyes like twin shards of winter stormlight.She stood a few feet away from him, still, expression calm, heart a storm beneath her ribs.“What did you say?” she asked, her voice low enough that only he could hear.Roman leaned back in his chair, the faintest curl of amusement ghosting his mouth. “You heard me.”He said it softly, almost lazily, but his gaze was razor-sharp, daring her to disobey.The silence stretche
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