The grand ballroom felt even larger without Davian at Roseanne's side. The music floated through the air, elegant and cheerful, but Roseanne could only hear the quickened beat of her own heart. She stood still, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the soft fabric of her dress as her eyes darted around the room. Groups of werewolves, powerful Alphas, Betas, and their mates hung out comfortably, their laughter and confident voices blending with the music. To make matters worse, Ian left a couple of minutes ago to get a drink.
Roseanne felt out of place.
She tried to remind herself of what Skyla had taught her—how to stand tall, how to smile politely, and how to hold herself with grace. But her mind was racing. Davian had been gone for what felt like forever, and every passing second made her feel more exposed. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to smile when she caught someone's eye, but the nerves bubbling inside her refused to settle.
What was taking so long?
