Chapter 6: The Arcadium

The faint hum of a hairdryer filled the lavish dressing room as Erika sat before the mirror, her reflection a picture of serenity that belied the flutter of nerves beneath her composed exterior. The hairdresser worked deftly, sweeping her dark locks into an elegant updo accented with delicate silver pins shaped like crescent moons. Dunia stood behind her, hands clasped in front of her, her sharp eyes appraising every detail.

“You must stand beside your alpha at all times,” Dunia said, her voice calm but firm. “When he walks, follow two paces behind. It’s the standard.” She leaned closer, her gaze meeting Erika’s in the mirror. “I trust Mathilda drilled this into you, but I don’t take chances.”

“Yes, Mother Luna. I’ll remember.” Erika smiled faintly.

“You’ll do more than remember,” Dunia corrected with a sly arch of her brow. “You’ll embody it. Grace, composure, and elegance at all times. They’ll be watching for cracks, my dear. Don’t give them any.”

Erika inclined her head. “I shall be at my very best.”

Dunia’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Good. You may have survived Mathilda, but The Board is an entirely different beast. Tonight, you represent House Di Rocco. Make them see why Diego chose you.”

Erika swallowed hard, though she kept her expression neutral. Chose me? The irony was sharp, given the reality of their arranged mating. But she pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the gown she had on—a deep sapphire masterpiece that shimmered under the light, tailored to perfection.

As the hairdresser stepped back, Dunia moved to adjust Erika’s necklace, a delicate piece of platinum and moonstone. “This will do,” she said at last. “Now, let’s see if Diego finds you as presentable as I do.”

Erika descended the grand staircase, her gown trailing behind her like liquid starlight. She felt the weight of every step, aware that Diego was waiting at the bottom, his presence a magnetic pull she couldn’t ignore.

When she reached the foyer, her breath hitched. Diego stood by the door, dressed in an all-black ensemble that accentuated his broad shoulders and commanding stature. A long coat hung off him with effortless elegance, and his dark eyes, framed by the glow of the chandelier, were fixed on her.

For a moment, neither spoke. His gaze roved over her, lingering on the delicate curve of her neck where the moonstone necklace rested, and then dropped to the way the gown hugged her figure. Erika felt heat rise to her cheeks under his scrutiny, though she held her chin high.

Diego’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, before he extended his arm. “You look… acceptable,” he said, his voice even, though the flicker in his eyes betrayed something deeper.

Erika smothered the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m glad I meet your standards, Alpha.” She placed her hand lightly on his offered arm. His warmth seeped through the fabric of his coat, unsettling her resolve.

As Hugo opened the mansion doors, the cool evening air rushed in, but the tension between them remained electric.

The Arcadium rose like a polished onyx beacon at the heart of Arco City, its gleaming spires catching the late afternoon sun. Erika stared out the car window, the towering structure growing larger as they approached. Dunia's earlier pointers played over in her mind: stand beside him, two steps behind when he walks, and speak little or not at all.

The rigid expectations settled like an iron weight on her chest. She glanced at Diego beside her, his profile sharp and unreadable, and wondered if he felt even a fraction of the pressure she did.

“Relax… they don’t bite,” Diego said without looking at her, breaking the tense silence. A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. “How’s your shoulder, by the way?”

“It’s healing nicely, thanks.” She folded her hands in her lap, avoiding his gaze.

He cleared his throat. “My mother seems to like you, huh?”

Erika blinked. “She told you that?”

Diego’s jaw tightened. “Just so you know, it changes nothing. My mother has no influence on me, whatsoever.”

The defensiveness in his tone baffled her. She gave a small nod. “Of course.”

The grandeur of the Arcadium had Erika in silent awe, though she kept her composure.

By Diego’s side, she felt the weight of expectations multiply, amplified by the hushed whispers and lingering stares of other Lycans as they entered.

The place was magnificent—vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate murals depicting Lycan history, polished marble floors reflecting the soft glow of gilded chandeliers, and a grand staircase sweeping upward like a work of art.

Diego kept his arm firmly linked with hers, guiding her through the throng of well-dressed attendees. Erika felt the weight of countless eyes on her. As they stopped to greet other guests, she kept her head high and her movements graceful, nodding politely as Diego handled the conversation.

“Congratulations on the mating, Alpha Diego,” an older Lycan said, bowing slightly. “Your Luna is radiant.”

“Thank you,” Diego replied smoothly, casting a brief glance at Erika, who offered a demure smile.

The guests' attention to Diego struck Erika as curious. He moved through the crowd with an air of command, his presence magnetic. People bowed to him—alphas, even some members of The Board. It raised questions she dared not voice.

Diego guided her through the throng of Alphas and Lunas with practiced ease, introducing her only when necessary. Erika noticed the warmth in his voice when he spoke to others, a stark contrast to the cool detachment he reserved for her.

Yet, he didn’t let her drift too far. His hand often hovered near the small of her back, a silent claim that was both protective and possessive.

As Diego mingled, Erika observed him from the corner of her eye. He was effortlessly charming, his deep voice commanding attention, his laughter drawing smiles. Despite his aloofness toward her, she couldn’t deny the pull he exerted, an enigmatic force that made it impossible to look away.

She wondered if he felt the same tension, or if his guarded demeanor was a shield too impenetrable to let anything through. But then there were fleeting moments—a brush of his hand against hers as he reached for a glass, the way his gaze softened when he thought she wasn’t looking—that hinted at something unspoken.

The grand hall was a spectacle of opulence. Circular tables were draped in silk, adorned with crystal candelabras and floral arrangements. Erika took her seat beside Diego at one of the prominent tables near the stage, where high-ranking officials of The Board sat with regal poise. The Board’s insignia, a black-and-silver hexagram interlacing with an ankh, hung prominently behind the podium.

As the speakers began their addresses, Erika listened intently, soaking in the discussions. Mentions of rogue bands disrupting peace, scandals involving Lycans in human cities, and whispers of political maneuvers painted a vivid picture of their world.

“You’re too serious,” Diego murmured, leaning closer. His breath tickled her ear. “Don’t worry, this will be over soon.”

“I find it interesting,” Erika replied softly. “Even if I don’t understand everything yet.”

Diego chuckled, amused. “Well, that makes one of us.”

The way he said it—low, almost intimate—stirred something in her, a flicker of hope that perhaps the chasm between them wasn’t entirely unbridgeable.

When the program concluded, Erika thought they would finally leave, but a man in uniform approached Diego, whispering something that made his jaw tighten.

“The Alpha King wants a word with me,” Diego said, his tone unreadable.

Erika’s pulse quickened. “Should I come with you? Or shall I wait here?”

“Wherever I go, you must be there too. Let’s go.”

They crossed the room, parting the sea of alphas and Lunas as the King’s guard led them to the far end of the hall. A crowd had gathered around a central table, but as they approached, the King’s guard cleared the way.

“Ah… Alpha Diego,” the Alpha King said, his deep voice commanding attention. He rose from his chair, extending a hand. “Come, sit with me for a while, and introduce me to your new Luna.”

Diego shook his hand firmly. “Your Highness, may I present Erika Di Rocco.”

Erika curtsied gracefully. “Your Highness,” she said, lowering her gaze.

The King studied her for a moment, his expression inscrutable. “Well, I give you both my best wishes,” he said at last, his tone tinged with irony.

As Diego and the King spoke about The Board’s affairs, Erika listened quietly, piecing together fragments of their conversation. Terms like “rogue purges” and “alliances” hinted at the complexities of Lycan politics.

Then the King turned to her. “I’d like to pick your brains a bit, Luna,” he said, his gaze sharp and probing.

Erika’s breath caught. She glanced at Diego, whose expression darkened.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about these bands of rogues disrupting the peace everywhere,” the King said. “What do you think we must do about them? How do we get rid of them?”

Diego interjected quickly. “Your Highness, I think—”

The King raised a hand, silencing him. “I’m talking to her.” He looked back at Erika expectantly.

Her mouth felt dry, but she forced herself to speak. “Majesty… the rogues… I think they deserve to be heard.”

The King raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Behind every motive, whether good or bad, is a need. If we can understand their grievances, perhaps we can find a way to address them without bloodshed. Open communication might be a crucial first step.”

The King leaned back, stroking his beard. “Interesting… You’re the first to offer such a perspective.”

Diego bristled. “Your Highness, forgive me. My Luna is inexperienced in matters of governance. She—”

“That’s why I wanted to hear her,” the King interrupted, a smile playing on his lips. “And I must say, Diego, you’re a lucky man. You have a Luna with a sharp mind and the courage to speak it.”

Erika’s cheeks flushed, unsure whether to feel complimented or chastised.

“Curious, though… Killian’s words… mere words on a piece of parchment,” the King added cryptically, “there may be some truth to them after all.”

Diego’s expression tightened. “We should take our leave now, Your Highness.”

“Of course,” the King said with a wave of his hand. “Go on, then.”

By the time they left the King’s table, Erika felt a mix of triumph and trepidation. The King’s praise had left her both emboldened and wary. She had earned his attention, but she wasn’t sure yet if it was too good for her own good.

On the drive back to the mansion, Erika couldn’t shake the memory of the King’s cryptic words—or the way Diego had looked at her, first with surprise, then with a flicker of pride he quickly masked.

Diego broke the silence. “You did well tonight.”

Erika glanced at him, startled by the rare compliment. “Thank you.”

He hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly on his knee. “Just… don’t get too comfortable with the King’s approval. It’s a fickle thing.”

Erika said nothing more, but the encounter with the Alpha King left her with more questions than answers—and an unshakable sense that she had stepped into a game far larger than herself.