The palace smelled of roses and expensive perfumes that clung stubbornly to the air, masking the scent of unease that had been thick in these halls for weeks.
Natalie sat in the farthest corner of her sister's dressing chamber, watching in silence as the attendants fussed over Selene like she was a porcelain doll.
"Hold still, my lady," one of them murmured as she threaded tiny moonstone beads into Selene's silken hair.
Selene laughed softly, the kind of laugh that seemed practiced — delicate, sweet, meant to charm. Even the flick of her wrist as she adjusted her gown looked effortless. She was the elder by only ten minutes, but somehow those ten minutes had given her everything: beauty that made nobles stare, a voice that commanded attention, and the kind of confidence that made Natalie feel invisible.
Natalie's own reflection, faint in the polished mirror's corner, looked nothing like Selene's. Her hair was a shade darker, her features sharper, her expression guarded. Where Selene shone like sunlight, Natalie was the quiet before a storm, unnoticed until it broke.
"You're staring again," Selene teased, glancing at her through the mirror. "Envious?"
Natalie forced a small smile. "Just wondering how you endure all this fussing every morning."
"Endure?" Selene arched a perfectly shaped brow. "I live for it, sister. This is what being the jewel of the Moonblood Pack means."
The words pricked, though Natalie didn't let it show. She'd grown used to living in Selene's shadow — the "spare" princess, useful only when the perfect one was busy being adored.
The door to the chamber opened, and their mother swept in, her gown trailing behind her like a wave of silver. Queen Elara's presence filled the room instantly — regal, sharp-eyed, with a beauty as cold as frost.
"Out," she said to the attendants. They bowed and scurried away.
Her gaze landed on Selene first, softening slightly. Then on Natalie, where it lingered just a fraction too long.
"A messenger has arrived from the Northern Court," she said. "From Alpha Damien."
Natalie had heard the name before , whispered in taverns, spoken with both fear and awe. The Wolf King. The Ruthless One. The man who'd turned entire battlefields crimson and left no survivors. The stories also spoke of a sickness that plagued him, a curse that even the moon's blessing could not heal.
Selene's lips curved in curiosity. "And what does the great Alpha want with us?"
Her mother's eyes were unreadable. "He demands a marriage. To unite our kingdoms."
A pause.
"To me?" Selene asked, her tone almost amused.
"To the princess of Moonblood," Queen Elara replied smoothly.
The silence stretched thin. Selene let out a laugh , light but laced with something sharper. "Surely you jest. I will not chain myself to a dying wolf, no matter how powerful."
Natalie felt her stomach tighten at her sister's casual dismissal. Rejecting an Alpha was no small matter, especially this Alpha.
"You forget yourself," Queen Elara's voice was cool steel. "Our pack's survival depends on this alliance."
"Then find another way," Selene said simply, turning back to her mirror. "I will not marry him."
Natalie saw the flicker of something dangerous pass through their mother's eyes.
And in that moment, a strange, unspoken understanding formed in Natalie's chest , whatever plan Queen Elara was weaving, it would not end with Selene paying the price.