Lila
I stood there, adjusting the unfamiliar weight of the dress on my body. My hands traced the soft fabric, the intricate patterns that danced across it. It was beautiful, but the elegance only made me feel more out of place.
This dress, so fine, so rich, reminded me of my grandmother. She thought luxury was a waste of Pack resources. I sighed quietly, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, as I answered Beta Ronan’s silent scrutiny.
“This dress reminds me of my grandmother. She valued thriftiness.”
Beta didn’t comment further, just nodded his approval before turning to walk ahead. His silence was telling; he didn’t need to say anything more, his thoughts already calculated. Without a word, he motioned for me to follow.
I had learned to remain quiet growing up. The less I was seen or heard, the more freedom I had. That training kicked in as I followed Ronan down the cold stone corridor. I couldn’t help but shudder.
The walls seemed to press in on me, their chill seeping into my bones. I imagined the room ahead – Damon’s room. The Lycan King, as I should have thought of him. Terrifying. Dark. An imposing figure who commanded the kind of power that made even the strongest men tremble.
The thought of meeting him sent an uneasy flutter through my chest. Every part of me screamed to run in the opposite direction, but I had no choice but to continue forward.
Our footsteps echoed in the hall, and I focused on them, trying to keep my mind from drifting too far. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the whispers that tried to creep into my thoughts.
I was so lost in my own anxiety when Ronan suddenly paused, his head tilted slightly as though he were receiving a mind link. His gaze flickered toward me.
“I’ll have to leave you for a moment,” he said briefly. “The maid will escort you the rest of the way.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and left, his presence fading back down the hallway.
The maid, who had been quietly trailing behind, stepped forward, her eyes soft but unreadable. She nodded, motioning for me to follow. My mind was too consumed by the impending meeting with The Lycan King to pay attention to much else.
As we walked, I turned a corner and almost collided with Isabella. She was as perfect as ever – her sharp features framed by her styled hair, her posture rigid with the kind of self-assurance that only a noble like her could possess.
She looked at me, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What are you running around for in the palace?” Her voice was sharp, like the crack of a whip.
I swallowed hard, not wanting to speak to her in case I snapped back again. And keeping the King waiting was probably not going to help my case in wanting to avoid further punishment – or with fading into the background.
“The King wanted to see me.”
Isabella’s eyes widened in shock, but only for a brief moment. Then, her face twisted into a snarl as she stalked towards me.
The maid placed herself between us, but Isabella was determined to get to me. She shoved the maid aside and stepped into my personal space.
“Don’t think just because you have that face that you’re something special,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “You don’t deserve his attention.”
Her words stung more than I was willing to admit. My face? What was wrong with my face? Did she hate my sister Elena and thought I was her? Of course she did, that’s why I was here…
As if to answer my silent question, Isabella’s lips curled into a sneer. “Don’t get too comfortable, little girl. You’re not fooling anyone.”
Before I could process what was happening, Isabella’s arm flashed towards my face, clawing out to slash my smooth skin and mar the face she seemed to hate so much.
My instincts flared, and I blocked her hand, stepping back. The moment she hesitated, I seized the opportunity, grabbing my skirt and running blindly through the endless halls of the palace.
The vastness of it all, the towering walls and the network of corridors flew past in a dizzying maze. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths coming in short bursts. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to get away.
I had to outrun Isabella. I had to find my way to safety.
Out of nowhere, my senses flared, and I smelled it. The scent that made my blood run hot and twisted my stomach into knots.
It was sweet, irresistible, almost maddening. I followed it instinctively, not caring where it led me. It pulled me in like gravity, and every step was more urgent than the last. I couldn’t stop myself. I had to find the source of that scent.
And then I ran straight into a solid wall of muscle.
My hands slammed into a chest, the force of the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. The heat of the male’s body radiated through me, and I reached out to steady myself.
My palms pressed against his firm chest. His muscles tensed beneath my touch, and I felt an unfamiliar spark of awareness travel through me, as though my very being recognized him.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered, quickly taking a step back, but my words felt hollow in my mouth. “I didn’t see –”
“Be careful,” the man’s voice was low, cold, and surprisingly impatient, but I couldn’t focus on the words. My mind was too busy trying to process the pull that thrummed between us. The wave of suffocation. An irresistible force.
I raised my gaze slightly, and when our eyes met, the world seemed to stop.
Ice-blue eyes stared back at me, devoid of emotion but filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. I watched with fascination as his pupils dilated as we stared at each other.
Everything inside me screamed. Mate.
The word echoed in my mind, like a deafening roar. My wolf howled in response, her cries vibrating through me.
I was frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. The connection was undeniable. This was him.
The guard beside him – massive, intimidating – grabbed my arm and jerked me toward the ground, forcing me to kneel before this male. My knees hit the cold stone floor with a sharp thud, and I gasped in pain, still trying to comprehend what was happening.
“Kneel!” The guard’s command was harsh, but I couldn’t focus on him. My mind was consumed with one thought: My mate.
Isabella’s shrill voice broke through my thoughts. “Your Highness! Please, allow me to deal with this…disrespectful mutt,” she said, her tone exaggerated, dripping with false sweetness. She was already kneeling in front of Damon, her palms upturned, begging for his attention.
But all I could do was stare at the man before me. My Mate. The man who, in an instant, had unraveled everything I thought I knew about my world, and everything I was here for.
Damon Sinclair, The Lycan King was my Mate.
I couldn’t comprehend it. My heart raced, my mind spun in circles. This tyrant – this dangerous, unfeeling Alpha – was mine?
Even as the thought terrified me, I couldn’t shake the undeniable bond that pulled me toward him. It was a stronger force than anything I had ever felt before.
Stunned, I knelt before him, the weight of the realization crashing down around me.
I was in so much trouble.
