In the palace garden...
Selene stood beneath a large tree quietly watching two servants working in the distance.
Her silk gown was gathered tightly in her fists, her expression troubled.
Soft footsteps approached from behind.
Maravelle stopped beside her.
"You've been standing here for quite some time," she said calmly. "What is weighing on your mind?"
Selene quickly let go of her gown and turned to face her.
"Your Highness," she said, forcing a small smile. "It's nothing."
Maravelle studied her for a moment.
"You're worried about Thornak," she said.
"I love him," Selene said. "I've waited. I've done everything you asked. I stayed patient. I stayed loyal. I believed you when you said he would one day be mine."
"He will be yours," Maravelle said calmly. "But you must be patient. Thornak has always been... difficult."
Selene's eyes filled with worry.
"And the girl?"
Maravelle's gaze hardened for just a moment.
"Nobody you should even concern yourself with."
Then her expression softened into a faint smile.
"Come. Let's have lunch together."
She slipped her arm through Selene's and together, they walked back toward the palace.
At that same moment Thornak arrived.
Without stopping to speak to anyone, he headed straight for his chambers. As he passed Freya's room, his steps slowed.
Jax stirred restlessly inside him, urging him to go to her.
For a brief moment, Thornak almost turned toward her door.
But he stopped himself.
He had just returned from the border, covered in dirt and sweat. He should at least take a shower.
Taking a slow breath, he forced himself to keep walking.
"I'll see you soon," he murmured.
Moments later, Thornak stepped out of his bath with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water still glistened on his perfect well-built body.
His personal maid, Arya, was setting the table for lunch. She placed the last plate down and turned to leave, only to nearly walk straight into him.
She froze.
A deep blush spread across her cheeks.
It was no secret that women across the kingdom admired the Lycan King. Tall, powerful, and impossibly handsome, Thornak rarely failed to leave them flustered.
Arya quickly lowered her eyes.
"Y-Your Majesty," she stammered, bowing respectfully. "Lunch is served."
Thornak glanced at the table.
"Serve my meal in my private garden. I'll be having lunch with Lara."
Arya looked up in surprise.
"Pardon?"
Thornak raised an eyebrow. "Did I stutter?"
"N-No, Your Majesty." She bowed again. "Right away."
Arya picked up the tray of food and hurried out of the room to serve the meal in the garden.
Before she reached the door, Caspian spoke again.
"Inform the Lady that she will be joining me for lunch."
Arya bowed once more. "At once, Your Majesty."
She quickly left the room to carry out his order.
...
Mira rushed into Lara's room, slightly out of breath.
"My Lady!"
Lara looked up in surprise. "What is it?"
"The King is back, and he asks that you join him for lunch."
Lara froze for a moment.
"Let's get you ready, my Lady," Mira said excitedly.
Lara looked at her in confusion.
"Wait... he wants to have lunch with me?"
Mira smiled. "Yes."
Lara hesitated.
"Is that something he normally does?" she asked. "Does he often have lunch with people?"
Mira shook her head quickly.
"Not at all. The King rarely invites anyone to dine with him. And no one is allowed in his private garden."
Lara's eyes widened slightly.
"Um... okay," she whispered. "Okay, but..."
She looked down at her simple dress, then back at Mira.
"Do I look okay?"
Mira smiled. "You look beautiful, my Lady. But..." She walked toward the wardrobe. "Why don't you wear the blue gown at the back?"
Lara glanced toward the gown.
"Isn't that a little too much?"
Mira shook her head. "Not for lunch with the King. Trust me."
A few minutes later... The guard announced her arrival in the garden.
"Lady Lara."
Thornak looked up. And for a moment, everything else disappeared.
She looked breathtaking.
His wolf suddenly became restless beneath his skin, pushing against his control.
Mine.
The word echoed fiercely in his mind.
Her hair glowed like gold in the soft lantern light, falling in gentle waves down her back.
Every step she took stirred something primal in him, something that roared with the need to go to her, to touch her, claim her and make her his own. His wolf was already going crazy beneath his skin.
But he stayed still. He couldn't afford to frighten her. Not yet. Not when she didn't know what she was to him. Not when she believed this was only for a short time.
Thornak stood as Lara stepped into the garden.
She couldn't help but admire him. The king was dressed in an ornate, dark armored outfit with gold-embellished designs. His black trousers were tailored to perfection, tucked neatly into knee-high leather boots that bore the crest of Vargorath.
He looked like he had stepped out of an ancient tale, tall, powerful and breathtaking. His dark hair was brushed back from his face. His presence was magnetic and commanding, yet tonight there was something softer in the way he watched her.
She curtsied and said softly, "My king."
"Lara." He responded.
He smiled softly, "This is my private garden. You are welcome here."
She stepped closer, still taking it in. "I am honored Your Majesty. It's beautiful."
His gaze never left her. "So are you."
She blushed so deeply it looked like her face might catch fire. Then, with a quiet gesture, he led her to the table, pulling out a chair for her with unexpected gentleness. She'd never dined with a noble before let alone a king.
"Thank you," she murmured.
The table was set for two, simple but elegant. The silverware shone and the crystal cups sparkled in the starlight. Everything had been carefully chosen.