Chapter 1 Meeting Prince Damon

Ariana's POV

"Are you trying to piss me off, Ariana? It's the third time already!"

When I was wiping my bloody double-edged sword, my father was roaring at me, with something unreadable in his eyes.

"Calm down, your majesty." I said with a smirk playing on my lips, "If they can't beat me down, how are they worthy of marrying me?"

For the happiness of my rest life, my father hosted Werewolf Power Contest: whoever could defeat me, the only princess of Warwick, whoever could be my husband.

Unfortunately, none of them.

"Why are you always trying to win? You know you will not find a mate if you keep this up!" He was seething, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke.

"And whose fault is that?!" I yelled back, eyes narrowing. "Whose fault is it that only the weakest Alphas appear at the contest? My father is the strongest Alpha of all continents after all!"

"Tone, Ariana, you're speaking to your father!" Mother chimed in. Her arms were folded and she stepped out of Father's shadows. "Ariana darling, you have to understand that we just want the best for you."

I rolled my eyes, almost letting out a scoff at her words.

The best for me? They didn't care in the slightest. I had seen my father's eyes when I fought my final duel that afternoon. How could he care if all he wanted was for my opponent to nearly behead me to prove he was strong enough to marry me?

Father stepped between us.

"If you weren't mated with an Alpha, the governors of this kingdom would never approve of you taking over from me even if I want to," he pointed out matter-of-factly. "So, if you know what is best for you after embarrassing me in front of alphas from the continents, you better get dolled up for your birthday."

I folded both arms and cocked a brow. "Why?"

"Since you threw the results of the contest up in flames, we are having a feast instead in celebration of your birthday." Father squared his shoulders and was glowering at me as if daring me to refuse.

I felt something worse than anger grow in the pit of my stomach. I knew my father well, this 'feast' was simply another ruse to throw me into a pit of fire and wait for a powerful alpha to come and save me.

"Wasn't the werewolf power contest enough for you?! I don't want to choose–"

"Ariana, listen and stop being such a rebellious child!" Mother thundered and started to come close. I flinched away. Right now, I didn't want to be touched. I wanted to disappear.

"I'm not going!" I spat, and in a second, I was past them, running down the stone stairs and away from the people who chose not to care about my happiness after I turned eighteen.

How could they even do this to me? Thoughts continued to well up as I reached the garden and plopped down behind one of the mahogany trees that served as the garden's protection. There were guards around the trees and somewhere at the entrance that I hadn't paid attention to, and they did the same since they didn't want their heads severed from the rest of their bodies.

I was furious. Because of their nagging about me finding a mate, the Werewolf Power Contest started. And despite my resolve to win every single time, no one had been able to match my prowess. The fact that my father was ready to marry me off to one of those weaklings who couldn't even challenge me was jarring! I hated those stupid rules with every fiber of my being, and if it were up to me they would have ended a long time ago!

I gritted my teeth in annoyance and kicked at a rock in my way.

While the kingdom grew and my father let those governors play the politics how they wanted, I couldn't change anything. Why couldn't I just handle the kingdom myself? Why wouldn't they just let me? Had I not proven myself over and over again through these duels and my leadership skills in the army? What more could they be looking for?

I was bitter, because I knew in a fair world it would not even be a debate.

If I didn't get married, I could effectively lose the kingdom to their monopoly.

I smacked my head with one hand and leaned my head on the tree. I ran my hand over the bark of the tree with a pout and soon, I felt some ridges that I instantly recognized.

My lips cracked into a smile as I remembered the markings Jasper and I had made on this tree nearly three years ago. It made me remember why I chose to be brutal to those weaklings.

Jasper was the only one who had ever matched me well. Moreover, he was the only my heart longed for. I remembered the first time we'd kissed under this tree, on the night before he was to leave for another country to study. I remembered how my heart sank when he said he wanted to be a worthy candidate for me, and we even promised to get married when he returned. We'd drawn our names on the tree and sealed our love with a pact.

Suddenly it occurred to me; Jasper was supposed to come back at my twenty-first birthday!

When I'd been scared that he wouldn't return, he assured me by promising to return on my twenty-first birthday.

Euphoria washed over me as I drowned in the idea. What would Jasper look like now? Would he be stronger and more powerful? A blush creeped up my cheeks at the thought. Quickly, I picked myself up from the grass and picked out the leaves that had stuck to my clothes. Prancing to my room, the idea of meeting Jasper again made me temporarily forget that I did not want to attend the feast in the first place.

I washed up and invited Elina, my trusted maid to choose the finest silk dress I had from Mother's year-round gifts. She chose a soft peach dress whose length I didn't like, but had to work with. And then I let Elina work her magic.

When I stepped out of my room and to the banquet hall, I knew I looked the prettiest of them all. In my defense, the only other women were either sitting in fear, scorn, or were the same age as my mother.

The banquet hall used to be my favorite places of the palace, now it just reminded me of everything I didn't want. Gold and silver chandeliers in their numbers hung from the high ceilings and illuminated the hall so much that the lights could be seen from a few miles away. The hall itself was two storeys high with gold and brass and bricks making up the railings that barricaded the top floor from where my father sat at the head of the feast table, his mouth busy.

Mother sat beside him at the table and several faces, about forty of them I hadn't seen before, were scattered around the long table. My best guess was that they were alphas, or merchants at best who could rival the governors; no common wolf wore purple silk or linen with gold embellishments. The noisy hall was filled at the sides and top floor by people I assumed were from my country in large numbers.

I rolled my eyes at that. Father liked this sort of thing, showing me off like some trophy.

"The princess is here!" A voice announced from the top floor and even those who hadn't been paying attention looked down to see me. I was staring ahead at the feast table in front of me. Father finally looked away from the person he'd been talking to and cracked a small smile.

I shuddered in my skin as Mother beckoned me to the table. She was dressed in a grey spider silk gown that was held in place at the neck and arms with flattened silver, leaving her shoulders bare.

I sauntered to the table and Father wedged between him and the man he had been talking to by his left. The said man was quick to pull out the seat, and I mentally rolled my eyes as I sat down. The music continued, drowning the loud chatter in the background.

"A toast to my princess. Ariana of Warwick!" Father yelled out, holding out a gold rimmed glass at the table. The whole table did the same.

"To our princess, grow in strength and wisdom!" The crowd echoed back.

Father turned to look at me with a feverish smile while Mother made small talk with the table. Was he drunk already? He didn't get drunk ever. There had to be something up his sleeves.

"Ariana, I don't suppose you've met this handsome merchant from the West." He pointed at the man he had been talking to.

Of course, that was it. My jaw clenched. I knew there was a catch.

I shifted to look at the said man, and his shameless staring threw me off-guard. Confused and a little upset, I turned back to my father.

"Who is this?"

"Damon," the man interjected. "Damon of Harmonia, a kingdom from the West."