Later that evening, after Kira had returned from The Central, she and Derek were in their shared bedroom, getting ready for the dinner which Alpha Lucas of the Snow Crest pack had invited them to. The bedroom was quiet except for the distant hush of waves outside the open balcony doors.
Kira sat at the vanity in nothing but a towel wrapped tightly around her body, hair still damp from the shower, as she applied her makeup.
Derek emerged from the walk-in closet already dressed in a sharp, dark tuxedo that sat perfectly on his broad shoulders, making him look like something pulled straight from a fashion magazine. He moved with that same controlled grace he always had, adjusting one cuff without a word.
