He knew who the Queen was, and it was Lucy. In the elevator she’d filled his senses, familiar and strange at once, carrying the scent of a Queen along with a bouquet of flavors that were definitively her own. Alpha males were always drawn to Queens, it was no real surprise—it was how his father had found his mother, after all. It kept the clans strong. But there was no way he could explain that to Lucy, and she was probably still angry with him for seeking her out earlier. He’d gotten off on the wrong foot with her. If he was lucky, maybe she’d understand later that he was just doing his job. She certainly knew her father wanted all three women kept safe. The rest of the night was uneventful, which gave his wolf far too much time to mentally roam the party, keeping track of Lucy from a distance, wondering how he could even start the conversation he needed to have with her, much less the conversation he wanted. You’re beautiful. I want to get to know you better. How do you feel about dating a white guy from the West Coast, and is it better or worse if he’s a werewolf?
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