His Wolf's Presence

Esme retreated to her chamber where she had earlier sought refuge, her mind still reeling from the revelation about Lady Emily. She couldn't fathom why Finnian would mention Emily's name in connection to the palace's sinister activities.

She must have been really close to the king to know so much or give such cruel orders. Or was it, in fact, a mandate from Lennox himself?

As Esme entered the room, her thoughts were abruptly derailed by the sight before her. Donovan stood before his wardrobe, his back to her, his shirtless torso gleaming in the soft light. Droplets of water clung to his silver-white hair, which cascaded down his back like a river of moonlight. The air seemed to thicken as Esme's gaze lingered on the strong lines of his physique, her breath catching in her throat.