Soraya's POV
Ronan Lupus.
Standing right behind me.
Every instinct I possessed recoiled, bristled, snarled.
Sor, my wolf, pushed forward so sharply that my breath hitched.
He's too close.
Too close.
Danger.
She growled inside me—a low, vicious warning I felt vibrate through my bones. I clamped down on it before it could slip out of my throat.
I couldn't afford that.
Not here.
Not in the heart of a human kingdom.
Not in front of someone that knows my real identity.
I swallowed and forced my face into something calm, something polite.
"Your Highness," I said, dipping my head slightly, pretending my heart wasn't about to stop entirely. "You startled me. I didn't hear you approach."
His stare didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't soften.
"Answer my question." His voice was deep, steady, unsettlingly quiet. "Are you Soraya?"
My pulse tripped violently.
I forced a breath. "I'm… sorry, Your Highness, but my name is Maria."
A lie.
A thin, fragile lie.
