The ballroom went silent, as if every breath had been sucked out of the room at once.
Talon Draven stood before me—tall, composed, radiating the kind of authority that parted crowds without a word. His long black hair, threaded with that striking silver-blonde streak, shifted as he bowed slightly. The gesture was polite, refined… yet there was something else beneath it. Something that felt like a pull.
"My lady," he said, voice low and steady, "may I have this dance?"
The man whose hands had been on my waist a moment ago jerked back so quickly he nearly tripped. He muttered something about needing a drink and vanished into the crowd, leaving me alone beneath the glow of violet chandeliers.
I swallowed, every instinct screaming for me to be invisible—an omega had no business in the orbit of an Alpha Twin. But the hush in the room only deepened, and Talon was still standing there, hand extended, patient and unwavering.
My mother nudged me hard enough to nearly topple me. "Aureia," she hissed, "take his hand."
I did.
The moment our palms touched, something brushed against my senses—a cool ripple, like dipping my fingers into a tranquil lake. Talon's gaze flickered briefly, as if he'd felt it too.
He guided me gently toward the center of the floor. The crowd parted, bowing their heads with the rigid reverence commanded by wolves of his rank. I kept my eyes trained forward, resisting the urge to shrink, to apologize for existing.
When Talon placed his hand at my waist, heat bloomed beneath his touch—not scorching, but soothing. Calming. Like cold water finding boiling stone.
"Relax," he murmured as the music swelled around us. "You're safe with me."
Safe? In the arms of an Alpha? Under the eyes of an entire pack? I wasn't sure safety existed for me anymore. Still, I followed his lead, letting his movements guide mine. He was fluid—effortless, controlled—his steps a silent choreography that made my own feel weightless.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked softly as we spun beneath a cascade of shimmering crystal light.
"Yes," I breathed. "You're Talon Draven."
"And you are?" His lips tilted in the smallest suggestion of amusement. He knew my name—he had to—but he seemed to enjoy hearing me speak it.
"Aureia Vale."
His gaze softened. "A fitting name."
Heat rushed to my cheeks, mortifying in its intensity. I had no idea what to do with praise from someone like him. Men like Talon were carved for power and war, not for speaking gently to unknown omegas.
He leaned closer—not enough to be improper, but enough that his breath brushed the shell of my ear. "Do you know the man you danced with before?"
"No, Alpha."
"Talon," he corrected quietly. "My rank is irrelevant on the dance floor."
"But you're—" I hesitated, searching for the right word. "You're important."
A faint smile curved his lips. "So are you."
My heart stuttered.
We circled the floor in easy, mesmerizing turns. The murmurs around us grew louder, curiosity swelling until it felt like tangible pressure. Omegas were servants, laborers; they were not meant to be in an Alpha's arms—let alone one of the Draven heirs.
When the song faded, Talon slowly released me but did not step back. His gaze swept over my hair, my dress, the rose-glow of my embarrassment. For a second his eyes sharpened, narrowing as if he sensed something unseen.
"Aureia," he said softly, "you're not what they think you are."
The air thickened.
"What do you mean?" I whispered.
But before he could answer, another presence approached—a heat that felt like fire licking at my skin. Raffyn Draven, the twin forged from flame and fury, strode toward us with a predator's precision. His scar caught the chandelier light, gleaming like a warning.
"Talon," Raffyn said, voice taut, "Father is asking for us."
Talon's jaw twitched imperceptibly. "I'll be there."
But Raffyn's golden eyes were no longer on his brother. They were on me.
Studying. Assessing. Burning.
I held my breath under the weight of his scrutiny. His presence was different from Talon's—sharper, heavier, edged with heat that made the air shimmer faintly.
"You," he said, tilting his head. "Omega girl. Name?"
"Aureia," Talon answered smoothly, stepping slightly in front of me.
Raffyn's brow rose. "You know her."
"She's remarkable," Talon said simply.
My breath hitched. My heart forgot its rhythm altogether.
"Talon," Raffyn murmured, a warning wrapped inside the word.
The tension crackled like lightning between them, but Talon didn't move. His stance was protective—subtle, but unmistakable.
Before either twin could say more, the crowd parted again. The Alpha of the Hunted Mellow Pack approached with his daughter—an elegant blonde woman in shimmering blue. Beside them, advisers and dignitaries waited with composed anticipation.
The Draven twins straightened as one, slipping back into the regal masks required of them.
"Good evening," Raffyn said, bowing to their guests. "We are honored by your presence."
I lowered my eyes respectfully and began to step back into the crowd, but Talon's hand brushed my wrist—a gentle touch, fleeting but deliberate. A quiet plea:
Stay.
My pulse leapt.
The Hunted Mellow heiress offered a polite smile, but it lacked warmth. Her eyes evaluated each twin, then skimmed over me as if I were lint on silk.
Raffyn spoke first. "We'd like to discuss a proposal."
"A mating contract," Talon clarified. "A union to strengthen our packs."
My stomach dropped.
A contract. A Luna Queen. A title.
Something my mother would have fainted over.
The heiress's lips parted, perhaps delighted, perhaps calculating. "I would consider it."
"Take your time," Talon said graciously.
But Raffyn's attention drifted—to me.
His golden eyes followed as I tried once more to slip away. When I reached the edge of the ballroom and stepped into a quieter hallway, I finally exhaled.
The lavender gown brushed my ankles as I walked deeper into the shadowed corridor, out of sight, out of breath, out of my depth.
I pressed a hand to my chest.
None of this made sense.
The dance.
The attention.
The whisper in Talon's voice.
The fire in Raffyn's stare.
The way the air changed around the twins as if they had recognized something in me I didn't understand.
The mansion seemed to hum with magic. I needed space. Air. Silence.
But as I moved deeper into the hall, footsteps followed.
Not heavy.
Not hurried.
But purposeful.
I turned—and saw Raffyn Draven stepping into the corridor, shutting the world out behind him.
His eyes locked onto
mine.
In the dim light, they glowed like embers.
"Aureia Vale," he said, voice low, dangerous, unmistakably sure.
"We need to talk."