Chapter 13

Lune stood before the grand vanity, taking one last glance at her reflection. She had changed into a soft, flowing gown the maids had laid out for her—a delicate shade of ivory that complemented her skin, with intricate lace detailing along the bodice and sleeves. Her hair was loosely pinned back, soft tendrils framing her face. There was a subtle grace to her appearance, though she couldn’t shake the nervousness fluttering in her chest.

With a final deep breath, she stepped out of the room. The younger maid from earlier was waiting outside the door, offering her a warm smile. "Lady Lune, if you're ready, I’ll escort you downstairs."

Lune nodded, following the maid as they made their way back down the long corridor. The soft rustle of her gown was the only sound as they descended the grand staircase. As they reached the bottom step, Lune looked up, and there, standing at the far end of the dining hall, was Arlo.

The moment his eyes met hers, everything around them seemed to be still. Arlo felt his breath catch for a moment, his usual composed demeanor faltering. Lune looked radiant. The soft glow of the candlelight reflected off her gown, casting her in an almost ethereal light. Her beauty was understated yet undeniable, and for the first time in a long while, Arlo found himself momentarily lost for words.

As Lune approached the table, Arlo’s sharp gaze softened. She was more breathtaking than he had imagined, and though he was a man of control, there was something about seeing her like this—dressed in elegance and walking toward him—that stirred something deeper within him.

"Lune," Arlo said, his voice low but filled with admiration as she reached his side. He extended his hand toward her, his eyes not leaving hers. "You look beautiful."

Lune felt a warmth rise in her cheeks at his words, but she took his hand, the feel of his strong fingers wrapping around hers sending a small shiver through her. "Thank you," she replied softly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within her.

Arlo guided her to her seat, the formal setting of the table around them almost forgotten in the intensity of the moment between them. Tonight, it seemed, was about more than just dinner. It was the beginning of a life they would share—a reality that was slowly sinking in for both of them.

As they sat down at the long, elaborately set table, Lune glanced at the spread before them—delicate plates of roasted meats, colorful vegetables, and fragrant bread, all laid out with precision. The soft glow of the candlelight created an intimate atmosphere, but there was an undeniable tension between them. Arlo, seated at the head of the table, watched her intently as she settled into her seat across from him.

A maid poured them each a glass of wine before quietly retreating, leaving them in the vast dining hall alone. Lune glanced around, noticing the emptiness of the space. Her mind buzzed with questions, and though she had been nervous earlier, she felt the need to break the silence that hung between them.

As Arlo picked up his glass, his gaze still fixed on her, Lune cleared her throat and spoke, her voice soft but curious. “Why are we eating alone? I imagined the table would be full of people, given how large your home is.”

Arlo placed his glass back down gently, his eyes never leaving her. “I wanted it to be just us tonight,” he said simply, his voice low and smooth. “It seemed fitting for our first evening together.”

Lune nodded slowly, though part of her still felt out of place in the grand, empty room. She picked up her fork and took a small bite of the meal, savoring the rich flavors before setting the utensil down again. Her thoughts lingered on him—the man she barely knew but was now bound to.

She swallowed and then ventured another question, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Arlo... if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

Arlo’s lips curved into a slight smile, amused by the question. “I’m thirty,” he replied, his gaze still unwavering. “Is that something that’s been on your mind?”

Lune shifted slightly in her seat, feeling a bit self-conscious under his intense stare. “Well, yes... I mean, we’ve barely spoken before now. There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

He leaned back in his chair, regarding her thoughtfully. “And you’ll have plenty of time to learn,” he said, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of something more possessive. “I’ve waited for this moment for a long time, Lune. I’ve watched over you for years. Now that you’re finally here, I intend to make sure you know everything about me.”

His words sent a chill down her spine, and Lune couldn’t quite read the expression in his eyes—whether it was protective or something else entirely. She took another sip of wine, gathering her thoughts.

“And why did you wait?” she asked, her voice quieter now. “All this time… why now?”

Arlo leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Because I knew you weren’t ready,” he said, his voice steady. “But now, circumstances have aligned. You’re here, and you’re mine.”

Lune felt her pulse quicken at the intensity of his words. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, but there was also a sense of danger in the way he spoke, as though her fate had been decided long before she had any say in it.

They continued to eat in silence for a few moments before Lune asked another question, her voice softer this time. “Did you have to do this? Did you have to offer my family so much just to marry me?”

Arlo’s eyes darkened slightly, and his smile faded. “Your family was struggling. I provided for them because it was necessary—both for them and for you. The ransom was a formality but make no mistake, Lune. I didn’t do it out of charity. I did it because I want you.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and Lune felt the full force of the situation pressing down on her. Arlo had orchestrated every part of this union, and now she was here, sitting across from him, bound by the choices her family had made.

“I see,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she pushed her food around her plate, trying to process the layers of this new reality.

Arlo leaned back in his chair, watching Lune quietly as she processed his words. He couldn’t help but find the situation amusing, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Thirty? What a ridiculous lie. He’d said it so casually, as though it were the truth, but in reality, he was far older than that. Five hundred years, give or take a decade or two—it had been so long that even he had lost count of the exact number.

He chuckled softly to himself, swirling the wine in his glass. If I were thirty, then I would have been a child of seven when Lune was born, he mused. Hardly the age of a man capable of watching over her all these years.

But Lune had accepted his answer without much question, and that entertained him even more. She had no idea of his true age, no inkling of the centuries he had lived through, and certainly no clue about the power that coursed through him as a result of it. Only his pack knew the truth about his age—those bound to him, his closest circle—and even they barely spoke of it. Outsiders were left to speculate, and Arlo had always enjoyed letting them guess, watching as rumors swirled about him. Some said he was in his forties, others whispered of immortality, but no one really knew.

He could have told Lune a more believable lie—perhaps forty-something—but he hadn’t cared enough to. Thirty had rolled off his tongue because, after all, it didn’t matter. She was too young and too new to his world to question it, and he knew that the truth would overwhelm her.

Arlo’s gaze flickered back to Lune, who was still sitting quietly, picking at her food, her mind likely still buzzing with questions. His smile widened slightly. If only she knew the full extent of it all, he thought. The years, the power, the way I’ve shaped her life without her even realizing it.

But all of that could wait. For now, it amused him to let her think he was a mere thirty years old, just another man bound by time like everyone else. He was in no rush to reveal the truth—after all, they had all the time in the world now that she was his.

Leaning forward slightly, his smile still playing at his lips, he broke the silence. "You seem lost in thought," he said, his voice smooth. "Is something troubling you, Lune?"

Lune blinked, snapping out of her quiet reverie. She shook her head lightly, offering him a small smile in return, though he could tell it was strained. "No… just thinking about everything. It’s a lot to take in."

He nodded, understanding. It is a lot, he thought to himself, but you’ve barely scratched the surface, Lune.

And with that, Arlo settled back in his chair, content to let her believe what she would—for now.