Luna stared at him, her brows knitting together in confusion. This was ridiculous in every way possible. Just a while ago, the King had told them, while her aunt and sister were still in the pack house, that Belle had come to tell him about Mr. Hathor. But now the King was starting to say something else.
For a moment, Luna forgot that he still had his hands around her waist. She stumbled forward, their chests almost brushing, and she saw how his lips pulled up, watching her with amusement. The faint scent of cedar and cold metal clung to him, and the heat of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of her dress.
She kept her head turned to the side after she recovered from what the King had said, her eyes fixed on the paintings on the wall. "I do, do not have a partner for her to tr-try to take away," she said in defense, her voice shaky, her throat dry from tension.
