RYKER
She wasn't in the ivory dress anymore. They'd put her in a long and floral with a pale veil draped across her shoulders, the attires they wrapped Luna's in for ceremonies like this one, and every single person in that room rose to their feet, including Rowan, including me, before my brain had caught up to what my body was doing.
"Long live Luna Amaris."
The room chorused it. Close to thirty voices at once, flat and dutiful in the dead of night.
Rowan and I did not say it. We were on our feet but the words wouldn't come, because we were both looking at her. Our mate. Standing in a floral dress with a veil on her shoulders, walking into a boardroom as someone else's wife. Our father's wife. Which, going by the law that had been read over the two of them tonight, made her our stepmother.
I let that thought land all the way down and it was exactly as screwed up as it sounded, and worse for the part of me that still wanted to cross the room and take her out of it.
