He stood, his movement drawing every eye in the arena.

He was tall, easily six-three, with broad shoulders, the kind of athletic build that came from real combat, not just gym training.

Dark hair, sharp features, those eyes. Those impossibly blue eyes that seemed to see straight through every defense I'd built.

Valtherion Ashvane said something to the wolves flanking him, pack members, I realized, and began descending from the VIP section.

He's coming here. Oh god, he's coming here.

Panic flared.

I wasn't ready for this. Wasn't ready to face my supposed mate while covered in sweat and adrenaline, while the remnants of both my bloodlines still clung to...