“Are you sure burgundy and gold is a good mix?” Alma asks, holding up the fabric swatches against the light streaming through the grand windows of the sitting room. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her lips pursed as if the very fate of the ceremony depends on this decision.Cass groans, dramatically dropping her head against the couch. “Mother, yes. We have been through this. Yes. It’s bold, it’s regal, it’s timeless—exactly what I want.”Alma hums, unconvinced. “Gold is a warm tone, and burgundy is deep. If not balanced correctly, it could feel too… overbearing.”Cass lets out an exasperated sigh. “Mother, I swear on the Moon Goddess, if I hear the word balanced one more time, I will lose my mind.”I bite back a laugh as Alma glares at her daughter. “Don’t take that tone with me, puppy. I planned my own mating ceremony with grace and class—I would like to see my daughter do the same.”Cass places a dramatic hand over her chest. “I am the epitome of grace and class.”I snort. “Says the gi
Alma brings her hands down from her mouth, her expression shifting from shock to something more serious. She sits up straighter, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my stomach twist. “No one must hear about this,” she says, her voice low and firm. “No one.”Cassidy, ever the one to lighten the mood, chimes in with a smirk. “Obviously. It’ll put an Eden target on her head.” She leans back on the couch, her arms crossed, but her attempt at humor falls flat. Alma doesn’t even crack a smile.Instead, her gaze hardens, and she leans forward, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “This isn’t a joke, puppy. If Queen Rhoda finds out, she’ll be furious—not just at Caspian, but at Lilah too. She could throw her out of the pack, and you know king Damon always indulges her. We can’t afford any in-pack conflict, especially now with the rogues causing unrest. And with Moonhaven involved...” She trails off, her eyes flicking to me, and I feel the weight of her words settle he
The walk back to the Park House is quiet, but my thoughts are anything but.Cassidy’s mating ceremony is finalized. The preparations are set, the dress is chosen, and she’s glowing—excited for what’s to come. She deserves it. A grand, beautiful ceremony with the mate she’s always dreamed of.But I…I press my lips together as I reach Caspian’s door.I’m not even allowed to acknowledge that I am his mate.I was his maid. I’m still pretending to be. And no one in Golden Crest can ever know the truth—not yet, not until he tells his parents. But will he?Or will I just remain a secret?I shake the thought from my head and push the door open, only to freeze at the sight before me.Eden.My breath catches, a sharp, involuntary inhale as I take her in.She’s sitting on his bed, dressed in red. Not just any dress—a provocative, seductive one. The fabric clings to her curves, the deep neckline revealing too much. She lounges like she belongs there, her fingers grazing the silk sheets, her lip
The full moon casts a soft, ethereal glow over the garden, illuminating the golden and burgundy decorations that shimmer like liquid fire under the night sky. The scent of fresh roses and honeysuckle fills the air, blending with the crisp autumn breeze that carries the distant howl of wolves. Everything is perfect.Cassidy wasn’t exaggerating when she said this would be the most breathtaking ceremony of the year.And she wasn’t exaggerating when she said she would be the most stunning bride.She stands at the center of the ceremony, wrapped in gold like a goddess, the delicate embroidery of her dress catching the moonlight. Her light curls cascade down her back, pinned in intricate waves with tiny burgundy pins shaped like leaves. Ethan stands beside her, his eyes devouring her as if she’s the only thing that matters in the world.And I know, without a doubt, that she is.The ceremony is silent as the Elder steps forward, his silver hair gleaming beneath the moon. He lifts his han
Dinner is suffocating.The tension in the air is so thick it could be sliced with the very knife I use to cut my meat. Not that I have much of an appetite. My mother hasn’t looked at me since I walked in. My father speaks, but his words are clipped, cold—like an executioner passing judgment.I expected this. The moment I rejected Eden, I knew this would be my fate. But none of that weighs on me as much as the thought of Delilah, alone in my chambers, eating dinner by herself.She shouldn’t have to eat alone. She shouldn’t have to hide.She deserves better than this—than me.But I can’t let her go either.I push the food around my plate, barely registering the conversation between my parents. Their disappointment is a silent, brooding presence, thickening with every passing second.It’s my mother who finally breaks the silence."What were you doing in Moonhaven, Caspian?"The sharpness of her voice snaps me from my thoughts. I look up, meeting her steely gaze."Business reasons."S
The door opens with a soft creak, and I glance up from where I’m curled on the bed, my fingers absently tracing patterns on the silk sheets.He’s back. I smile up at him and he pauses in his steps just long enough to return it with a fairly real one.I know the second he steps into the room—there’s a tension about him, a weight in his shoulders that wasn’t there this morning. His usually sharp, commanding presence seems dulled, as though he’s been at war with something he can’t quite conquer.I watch him silently as he crosses the room, shrugging off his jacket with a little more force than necessary, tossing it onto the chair by the desk. His expression is unreadable, but I know better.He’s worked up.“Long dinner?” I ask softly, sitting up a little, the sheets falling from my legs.He glances at me, and for a brief moment, the hard edge in his eyes softens. But then it’s back—the storm brewing behind his silver irises.“You could say that.” His voice is tight, clipped.He pulls a
Something warm and solid presses against me, an unrelenting weight that refuses to let me move. I shift slightly, but the grip around me tightens.I blink, trying to adjust to the morning light streaming through the window, only to realize that I’m wrapped in a tangle of limbs—Caspian’s limbs. His arm drapes heavily over my waist, his leg hooked over mine, his chest warm against my back. He’s practically caging me in.I sigh. “Caspian.”No response.I wiggle again, attempting to pull my leg free, but his hold only firms.“Caspian, you need to wake up,” I try again, my voice still groggy from sleep.A low, lazy hum rumbles from his throat, but he doesn’t move.“Caspian,” I warn, pressing my elbow lightly against his ribs. “You have business with your father this morning.”“Father can wait,” he mutters, his voice thick with sleep. His grip tightens, pulling me even closer, as if that were possible. “You, on the other hand… not letting go.”I huff. “You’re being ridiculous.”“Mmm. No, I
The door clicks shut behind me as I step into the room, my mind still buzzing from the conversation with Eden. My grip tightens on the tray, and when I set it down on the table, the plates rattle loudly. I flinch at the sound, my irritation making my movements harsher than intended.But none of that matters right now.I rush to the mirror, my hands trembling slightly as I push my hair back, searching for what Priscilla pointed out earlier.And then I see it.A streak of silver-white cutting through my golden locks like a slash of moonlight.My stomach clenches.This isn’t normal.I tilt my head, running my fingers over the strands as if touching them will somehow make them disappear. But they don’t. They stand out in stark contrast against the rest of my hair.A lump forms in my throat. I’ve never heard of this happening to a human before. Twenty-one-year-olds don’t just wake up with silver hair. It’s unnatural.The sound of sloshing water pulls me from my thoughts.A moment later,
The scent of blood lingers thick in the air, mixing with the damp earth beneath my boots. The moon barely cuts through the thick canopy of trees, casting long shadows over the fallen bodies. Their lifeless forms lie sprawled across the ground, the fight drained from them. It was over fast—too fast. Three rogues, dead before they even had a chance to scream. It’s not satisfying. It’s just... work.Ethan nudges one of the corpses with his boot, his expression bored. "Well, that was disappointing," he mutters, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was hoping they’d at least put up a decent fight. Maybe throw a punch or two. But no, they just flopped over like dead fish. Pathetic."I wipe the blood off my blade, watching as the crimson soaks into the dirt. The forest is quiet now, the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind. "They weren’t fighters," I say, my voice even. "Just scouts. Testing the borders. Seeing how far they could push before we pushed back."Ethan scoffs, stepping
The market square is bustling, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread and ripe fruit. I weave through the crowd, my basket swinging at my side, when I see him. Darius. My heart skips a beat, then plummets. He’s standing by the fountain, his dark hair catching the sunlight, his posture relaxed and confident. But it’s not just him. There’s a girl beside him, her laughter ringing out like a bell, too loud, too close. She’s beautiful, with black curls and a smile that seems to stretch too wide. They’re leaning in, heads almost touching, and my chest tightens.I shouldn’t care. We’re not officially mated yet, but we’re fated. He’s mine, and I’m his. So why does it feel like a knife is twisting in my gut?His head snaps up, as if he senses me watching. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the world narrows to just him. His lips curl into that familiar smirk, the one that makes my stomach flutter even when I know it shouldn’t. He raises a hand, beckoning me over. My feet move before
The dining hall hums with the clinking of silverware and the low murmur of conversation. The long wooden table is overflowing with roasted meats, steaming vegetables, and goblets of deep red wine that glisten under the flickering chandelier light. The air smells of rosemary and thyme, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the silverware. I move quietly around the table, refilling glasses and serving plates, trying to stay invisible. It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years—being unseen, unheard. But tonight, my hands tremble, my thoughts a chaotic mess.At the head of the table, Alpha Rowan, my uncle, commands attention effortlessly. His hard golden eyes sweep over the council members as he discusses pack resources, his deep voice cutting through the room like a blade. He’s dressed in his usual dark tunic, the fabric tailored to perfection, the golden crest of Moonhaven embroidered on his chest. He looks every bit the Alpha, every bit the man who holds my fate in his hands.
I sift through the files in my father’s royal study, the scent of aged parchment and oak filling the air. The fireplace crackles in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the dark walls lined with books of law, history, and the many conquests of Golden Crest. My father’s meticulous handwriting marks the margins of various documents, but one file catches my eye—a thick, yellowed folder labeled 'Moonhaven Case'.I pull it out and flip through the contents, my brow furrowing with every page. Moonhaven. The wolf pack that somehow broke out of Golden Crest’s authority. A lawless land, untouched by the kingdom's rule. And yet, here it is—a case file, an unresolved issue, one that should have been dealt with ten years ago.I clench my jaw. How the hell did my father let this slide?I slam the folder shut and lean back in the chair, my fingers drumming against the polished wood of his desk. This is unacceptable. A pack operating outside of our rule is a direct threat to our sove
The kitchen is hot, steam rising from the pots on the stove and clinging to my skin like a second layer. My arms ache from carrying the pail of milk, the weight of it pulling at my shoulders. I’m not built for this—not like them. My human body is weak compared to theirs, and the cook never lets me forget it.“Hurry up, girl!” she snaps, her voice sharp as a whip. “You’re slower than a snail in winter. What’s taking you so long?”I bite my tongue, forcing myself not to respond. She’s been scolding me all morning, even though I’ve been on my feet since dawn, scrubbing floors, peeling vegetables, and hauling supplies. Nothing I do is ever enough for her. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, setting the pail down with a thud. My hands are trembling, and I can feel the blisters forming on my palms. “I’ll try to be faster.”“Try?” she scoffs, her hands on her hips. “You should be doing, not trying. Useless, that’s what you are. A human in a wolf’s world. What good are you?”I flinch at her words, but
Theo’s room smells like him—like rain and something faintly metallic, like the edge of a storm. I’m on my knees, scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the wooden floor, my hands raw and stinging from the soap. The pack house is never clean enough for them, and neither am I. But Theo’s room is different. It’s quieter here, softer. The walls are lined with books, and the bed is always unmade, like he’s just rolled out of it. I don’t mind cleaning this space. It feels like the closest I’ll ever get to being part of something.The door creaks open, and I freeze. He’s here. I don’t look up, not right away. I keep scrubbing, even though my hands are trembling. I can feel his eyes on me, heavy and unreadable. “You don’t always have to do that,” Theo says, his voice low and steady. I finally glance up, and there he is, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. He’s wearing a dark sweater that makes his hair look even lighter, almost golden in the dim light. He sends me a small smi
The grand hall of the estate is eerily silent, save for the steady click of my father’s polished shoes against the marble floor. He stands in front of me, arms crossed, exuding the usual 'I-am-your-father-and-you-will-listen-to-me' energy. My mother is beside him, a perfectly composed ice sculpture in a designer dress, her sharp grey eyes—our sharp grey eyes—assessing me with the usual judgment."You're in charge while we're gone," my father announces, his voice firm and unyielding, as if he hasn’t already said this a hundred times.I don’t respond immediately, my hands shoved into the pockets of my tailored jacket. Instead, I glance out the tall windows, where the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the estate grounds. The weight of his words settles over me, heavy and familiar. "I’m aware," I finally say, my tone low and measured.He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my lack of enthusiasm. "This isn’t a joke, Caspian. The rogues are becoming bolder. They’re not
(Before Goldencrest)The scent of pine and damp stone lingers in the air as I scrub the floors of the waiting area in the packhouse, the soapy water cool against my raw, reddened palms. The bristles of the brush scrape against the wooden planks, the repetitive motion soothing in a way that almost lets me forget where I am—what I am.Almost.Boots clunk against the floor, tracking dirt and grime over the freshly scrubbed surface. No one spares me a glance, no one acknowledges the work I do. It’s expected of me, the human among wolves, the weakest link in a pack that prides itself on strength. Even if my mother was once Alpha. Even if my uncle is now the reigning one. None of that matters. I’m nothing but an obligation, a stain they haven’t yet scrubbed away.A shadow falls over me, and before I can look up, the metal bucket beside me clatters to the ground. Water spills across the floor, soaking into my pants, drenching the small space I just finished cleaning."Oops," a voice draw
The music swells around us, soft yet powerful, the perfect melody for a moment like this. My hand rests in Caspian's, and my other rests lightly on his shoulder as we glide across the ballroom floor. The golden chandeliers overhead bathe us in warm light, making everything shimmer—my silver gown, the golden embroidery on Caspian’s regal suit, the crown atop his head, and the one newly placed upon mine.The ceremony was breathtaking, a moment forever etched in my soul. I was not just Caspian’s mate now—I was his queen, standing beside him in every sense of the word. And now, at the reception, with laughter and celebration all around us, I finally allow myself to breathe, to feel the joy that tonight has brought.Caspian pulls me closer, his breath teasing my ear as he murmurs, “I have half a mind to steal you away from all these people.”I smile, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. “And risk the wrath of Cassidy? She’s spent a week planning this. I don’t think even you, King of Gol