AYLA
The maids moved quickly around Ayla, attending to her every need. She sat still, overwhelmed by how different everything felt. The clothes she had worn before were nothing compared to what now draped over her body. Rich fabrics, delicate embroidery, and glittering jewels, it was all too much. Too unfamiliar.
For the first time in years, both her sisters stood in her room. Not to speak to her, of course. They didn’t even look at her. Instead, they were busy picking through the many dresses scattered across the bed, inspecting them as though they were the ones chosen to be Queen.
“Tighten her waist properly. She must look appealing to the King. And make sure her lips smell like roses,” Mrs. Jones instructed the maids, her tone sharp with authority.
The room buzzed with activity until a burst of cruel laughter broke the air.
“The King is blind. He can’t even smell anything,” Selene mocked, loud enough for everyone to hear. “As far as I know, our little sister is already a widow before the wedding even begins. Stop giving her false hope.”
Ayla’s heart clenched. She blinked fast, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall. The maids had worked so hard. She wouldn’t ruin it with her sadness.
“If the King weren’t sick, do you really think our little sister would get this chance?” Maggie added bitterly. “The King belongs to the rich and powerful. Not someone like her.”
Before Ayla could reply, Mrs. Jones’s voice rang out, sharp and final. “My ladies, you will leave this room at once. I will not allow you to speak to the future Queen of this kingdom in such a way.”
Ayla stood slowly, lifting her chin. Her voice was calm but cold. “They’re just jealous,” she said, meeting her sisters’ eyes.
Selene turned to glare at her, but Ayla didn’t flinch. There was nothing they could do to her now. The truth had already shifted in her favor.
“Everything you said,” Ayla continued, “was meant for yourselves. Have you forgotten? The King’s men came here looking for a bride, but not for me. They wanted one of you. You gave up the offer. And now you mock me, out of envy?”
The room fell silent.
Red-faced and furious, Selene and Maggie stormed out, slamming the door behind them.
Ayla stood still for a moment, her fists clenched at her sides. Her heart thudded in her chest, the sting of Selene’s words still fresh.
Mrs. Jones stepped closer and took her hand gently. “My Queen-to-be, you look perfect. Come, see for yourself.”
She led Ayla to the tall mirror standing near the window.
Ayla gasped.
She barely recognized herself.
The gown was breathtaking, hugging her waist tightly and lifting her chest in a way that made her look older, more regal. Her hair was styled flawlessly, her skin glowing like the morning sun. Her lips were soft and full, painted in a delicate shade of rose.
But inside, the sadness lingered.
Maggie’s words echoed in her mind, if the King hadn’t been sick, this would never have happened. This wasn’t a love story. It was a bargain. A duty.
Ayla looked at her reflection one last time before closing her eyes.
May the goddess help me.
Outside her father’s modest castle, a royal procession waited. The guards stood tall in shining uniforms, and the carriages glimmered beneath the sunlight. Horses stomped restlessly, their saddles adorned with gold and silver thread.
A thick cream-colored cloak was wrapped around Ayla’s shoulders, covering the deep green of her dress and shielding her from the cold wind.
Her father stood by the entrance, his face still and unreadable. Selene and Maggie stood on either side of him, watching in silence.
One of the guards opened the cart door.
Ayla took a deep breath and turned to look at her home one final time. Every corner of it held memories. Every stone felt familiar. How she would miss it.
Her father gave a small nod.
It was time.
She stepped into the carriage, and the door closed behind her.
It should have felt like the beginning of something beautiful.
Instead, it felt like the end of something dear.
We will be fine, Maya whispered in her mind.
Ayla could feel her wolf’s gentle comfort, wrapping around her heart like a blanket.
The trumpet sounded.
Her father climbed into his own carriage, followed by others. The procession began to move.
Ayla peeked through the small window, catching one last glimpse of her sisters. Their expressions were unreadable. Did they regret how they treated her? Or were they just angry that she had become more important than them?
A tear threatened to fall. She blinked it away.
Suddenly, a voice cried out from the distance.
Suddenly, she remembered the dream she had. Her heart began to beat rapidly. Fear engulfed her.
Was the dream had anything to do with her marriage? It better not be. That dream was terrifying. No man should have something as big as that.
But then, why was she always having the same dream of that faceless man?.
The question hung in the air as she relaxed more into her seat.
The village slowly disappeared behind them, replaced by the dense, quiet forest. Ayla had never left her pack’s land before. Her hands trembled in her lap, and her heart beat quickly with worry.
What will the Alpha King look like?
Will he like me? Will I like him?
So many questions. And no answers.
“You will know soon,” Maya whispered.
Ayla exhaled.
She had been so focused on her own fear, she had forgotten, he was not just her mate. He was also Maya’s.
The journey continued through winding paths, past mountains and rivers, until finally, the trees parted.
Ayla leaned forward.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The palace stood tall and proud, glowing beneath the afternoon sun. The Dominion Lunaris Palace.
It was nothing like she had imagined.
Towering spires rose toward the sky, topped in gold that sparkled like fire. The road was lined with tall trees whose branches formed a green archway overhead. Thousands of flowers bloomed on either side, their fragrance filling the air like a promise.
At the gates, a large stone sign welcomed her:
Welcome to the Dominion Lunaris Palace.
We’re here, Maya whispered.
And just like that, Ayla's new life had begun.
