Seliora wasn't about to let some spoiled, over-pampered werewolf princess chase her into the shadows. No way, Jose! She was still royalty, damn it, and the mother of the future heir to the throne. That title alone gave her a royal license to swagger.
With a purposeful flick of her black-gloved hand, she'd arranged for her own transport out of the Blood Castle. No need to make a grand entrance beside the prince—fuck that noise. If she had to steal the spotlight on her own terms, then so be it. This wasn't just about appearances anymore; it was about making her presence known, louder and prouder than ever. She intended to make sure everyone knew she was still a major player in this chaotic royal drama.
As her car rolled up to Lord Bishop's sprawling estate, she could already hear the thumping beats of music floating in the evening air. The place was a glittering magnet for Blood City's crème de la crème, the movers and shakers whose whispered alliances could shift kingdoms.
