The feast had already stretched into its second hour, the hall thick with the scents of roasted venison, spiced bread, and honey wine. Lanterns glowed warmly above the long tables, casting golden light over the crowd. Warriors shouted over mugs, pups squealed in delight, and musicians strummed low melodies from the corner.
Selene sat near the middle of the hall with Mira and a few others, trying to keep her hands from trembling as she tore a piece of bread. She barely tasted it. Every nerve felt raw, tuned to one presence at the far end of the hall.
Alpha Damien.
He stood near the dais, one hand resting on the back of the high table where the elders sat. His storm-gray eyes swept the room with measured detachment, as though weighing every soul in it. He looked untouchable, removed from the chaos of laughter and chatter around him.
But Selene could feel him. The bond thrummed between them like a live wire under her skin, tugging her gaze no matter how she tried to resist.
Her wolf was relentless.
Mate, Lyra whispered again, sharper this time. Why do you pretend not to see it?
Selene gritted her teeth, pressing her palms flat to her thighs beneath the table. She couldn't let anyone notice. Not here, not in front of the entire pack. The moment stretched too fragile, too dangerous.
"Sel?" Mira's voice jolted her. "You've barely said a word. You're pale as milk."
"I'm fine," Selene murmured, forcing a smile.
Mira narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. But before she could press, another voice intruded.
"Well, look who's playing at being shy."
Selene stiffened. Across the table, Lilith leaned forward, her lips curling. The lantern light gleamed in her golden hair, her gown a deeper crimson than wine, cut lower than modest. Her little court of she-wolves leaned in, hungry for the show.
"Tell me, Selene," Lilith purred loudly enough for nearby tables to hear, "did you borrow that dress from a servant? Or did the Goddess forget to bless you with taste as well as charm?"
Snickers rippled.
Heat rose in Selene's cheeks, shame and anger colliding in her chest. She opened her mouth, but Mira shot to her feet before she could.
"At least Selene doesn't need to flash half the hall to get attention," Mira snapped, her voice carrying clear.
A ripple of laughter spread, this time at Lilith's expense. Her green eyes narrowed to slits, venom flashing there. But before she could lash back, the noise of the hall dimmed.
Because Alpha Damien was moving.
The crowd seemed to part unconsciously, voices dropping as he stepped away from the dais and into the press of bodies. His gaze swept the hall once, sharp and unyielding. Then it locked on Selene.
Her breath caught.
The bond surged, snapping taut inside her chest like a cord pulled to breaking. Her wolf pushed hard against her control, claws scraping the edges of her mind.
Go to him. He is ours.
Selene's heart thundered. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, trapped between instinct and terror.
The entire hall seemed to shift with his steps, silence chasing him like a shadow. Lilith faltered mid-smirk, her face blanching as Damien's gaze slid past her as though she were nothing.
He was coming straight toward Selene.
Mira's hand found hers beneath the table, squeezing tight, eyes wide with questions Selene couldn't answer.
Every eye in the hall was turning now. Whispers rose, hushed but sharp.
Selene swallowed hard, pulse hammering. She could feel it—the weight of fate bearing down, the Moon Goddess herself watching from above.
Damien stopped before their table.
For a long moment, he said nothing. His eyes—cold, gray, unreadable—locked with hers. The tether of the bond burned between them, undeniable.
Selene's lips parted, her chest rising as if she could drink him in, as if her entire life had been built for this single instant.
Her wolf howled inside her, triumphant. Mate.
The hall held its breath.
And then Damien's mouth curved—into the faintest shadow of something. Not a smile. Not warmth. Something harder.
He opened his mouth to speak.