**~Damien's POV~**
"Next!"
I shouted loudly as the guard brought out the next large painting of a she-wolf.
"Next!" I called again, frustrated that none of the she-wolves met my standards, nor the standards set by Gabrielle.
Anger flushed my face as I thought of her again. "Damn you, brother," I cursed Lucien for the hundredth time that day.
He had stolen my wife—or, more accurately, my soon-to-be wife—from me just moments before we became a couple. I was not getting any younger, and my wolf had yet to find its mate.
It had found no one worthy of its affection, except for Gabrielle, and it seemed to have stopped searching since then. Suddenly, my attention was drawn to a particular painting.
The lady depicted was a damsel—dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and a gentle smile on her face.
Perfect… absolutely perfect. Her smile caught my wolf's interest, and it almost started howling.
"Who is she?" I asked, and my guard immediately responded.
