His Silent Omega's Hidden White Wolf Bloodline

die

hornets in the grand ballroom. I took another slow sip of my champag

erfectly practiced, fake sympathy. "Poor thing," Victoria sighed, her voice carrying effortlessly over the music.

me. "Oh, darling," she cooed, her voice dripping with sugary v

r my ears-vibrated deep within his chest. His scent spiked violently. The smell of cedarwood before a thunderstorm and a burning bo

pull me behind him and unleash his

th a microscopic, almost imperceptible movement, I shook my

his neck strained against his collar,

me authority of the fashion world and a formidable older she-wolf, stepped into the ba

Valentina's path, blocking her way. "Valentina! What perfect timing," Clotilde announced, ensur

ating gaze swept over the silent cro

to touch the glittering, crystal-encrusted fabric. She sim

tongue, the sound echoing lik

lked straigh

ch me. But Valentina ignored his lethal aura. With her leather-gloved fingers, she gently brushed the fabric of my cuff. Reachin

'P' hand-stitched in platinum thread

na lowered the loupe. She took a step b

tionable authority. "Hand-stitched by the late master designer Pierre himself. The 20

p rippled throug

ling. "And what you are wearing, Miss Sterling, is a factory-line replica. T

hat followed

uching her lips. "Exquisite taste, Elodie. I

of a bruised plum. Her chest heaved, and I could see her eyes flashing, her inner

hampagne glass and lo

clouded his eyes were entirely gone. In their place was a burning mixture of shock, awe, and a dark, consuming fi

he thought he needed to protect. I was th