Chapter 0051

The moment I grab my drink, pack members of all ages surround me, showering me with birthday wishes. My gaze keeps darting across the room, searching for Evelyn. I need to know if she's wearing the dress I picked for her. Everything tonight hinges on that.

Donovan pulls me away from the crowd. Just as I'm about to thank him, the room falls silent.

I turn toward the entrance. Evelyn and her father stand there. Mate! Theron's voice erupts in my mind. A grin spreads across my face. Yeah, she is.

Theron is practically vibrating with excitement. Cool it, I tell him. She's not eighteen yet. Selene won't recognize us as her mate for another few months. That settles him slightly, but he keeps pacing in my head. Relax. Stick to the plan. She'll be in our arms soon enough.

She’s breathtaking. The dress fits her perfectly—elegant, commanding, like she was born to be a Luna. My Luna. Strong. Regal. Flawless. And right now, looking like she might bolt. The flush on her cheeks gives away how much she hates the attention.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch my warriors dipping their heads in respect. Grant Sinclair swallows hard, his eyes glistening at the gesture. Before I can move, my mother is already striding toward them, my father close behind.

I watch as Mom approaches Evelyn while Dad greets Grant. As Dad leads him away, Evelyn’s fingers brush her necklace. My mother is sharp. Whatever she’s asking, she’ll know I gave Evelyn that jewelry.

Time to meet the man who saved my father’s life.

I join them just as Dad pulls me into the circle of warriors. "Son, meet the greatest man I’ve ever known—the reason I’m still standing here today. Grant Sinclair."

He turns to Grant. "This is my son, Adrian."

I extend my hand. "It’s an honor, sir. My parents have spoken highly of you and your family for years."

"Alpha Adrian, the pleasure is mine."

While Dad introduces the others, my attention drifts back to Evelyn. Our eyes lock just as my mother guides her toward me—no doubt for formal introductions.

Evelyn beats me to it, smoothly covering our previous encounters with a quick, "Pleased to meet you," though I catch the subtle jab in her tone. She feels guilty for confusing my mother, but not enough to hesitate in putting me on the spot.

Her hand slips into mine, and the contact sends electric warmth up my arm, sparking across my lips as I press a kiss to her knuckles. Theron purrs in approval. Two more months until her birthday. Torture. Glorious, agonizing torture.

"The pleasure is all mine, Evelyn." Her cheeks flush deeper. Is the bond affecting her too? As a Guardian, maybe she senses it stronger than most. Theron and I already knew—today just confirmed it.

I don’t want to let go, but another couple approaches to wish me happy birthday. Reluctantly, I release her, but not without murmuring, "Save me a dance."

Then I watch her walk away, back toward my father and the growing circle of warriors around Grant Sinclair.