C2

STEVENS POV

"You messed up the second part of the Moonsong Ceremony," Magnus says, his big steps closing the distance between us like a wolf cornering his prey. "Your hand shook during the fifth melody."

My mouth opens to yell at him, but I shut it fast because he is totally right. He is always watching my fingers, always listening to my music, even when he looks completely bored sitting in the Moonsong Grand Hall.

"Fine," I mutter, looking down at my boots. "Next time I will be perfect. For you."

His sharp grey eyes lock onto mine. "Good boy."

The praise knocks the wind right out of me, making my heart go crazy fast. A huge wave of heat goes right through my stomach, making my knees feel totally like water. I do not know why I act like a silly, soft pup whenever the Crown Alpha Heir is near me. Other male wolves tell me I play great all the time, but I do not care about their words. Magnus never gives out compliments unless I really earn them, which makes his words feel huge.

"Tuesday," Magnus says, changing the subject so fast it makes my head spin. "We go to the Moonstone Relic House."

My eyebrows pull together. "The jewel place?"

He nods, pulling on his heavy sleeve, his big arm muscles moving under his dark suit. "You have no warrior trials or songs that day. I checked your schedule with the Moonsong Bard Guild."

Of course he did.

"Why are we going there?" I ask, though my heart already knows his strict ways. He always plans everything out, doing his duty for the pack alliance.

"For our sacred mate bond ceremony," Magnus says, shrugging his massive shoulders like it is nothing. "You need a royal collar or something for the pack feast. Something from me, not from the Nielsen Moonfang Pack."

Something that belongs just to me.

The words feel heavy, squeezing tight inside my chest.

"You already gave me everything," I whisper, shaking my head. "You paid for my years as a young wolf scholar, gave me my place in the guild, and put your elite pack guardians around me. You do not need to keep buying things."

"It is not about need," Magnus snaps, his voice getting deep. His eyes drop down to my lips and stay there, making my breath catch hard in my throat. "It is about what belongs to this future Alpha King."

A sudden spark runs up my spine, making me shake.

"You do not have to keep buying my loyalty," I say, my voice dropping lower.

"I am not buying you, Stevens," he says, his voice sounding like thick silk over sharp silver claws. "The Moon Goddess already gave you to me. There is nothing to buy."

My throat goes completely dry.

I press my hands hard against the cold table behind me so I do not do something crazy, like reaching out to touch his big chest or pulling his face down to mine.

I let out a shaky laugh. "I guess you are right. In a few months, the wedding happens and you take me off the stage to keep me in your den."

"You are quitting your music?" His eyebrow goes way up, looking totally shocked. "Why?"

"I want to stay inside the Silverclaw Royal Citadel after we marry."

His grey eyes get super small and sharp. "Did your father Tronte Nielsen tell you to do that?"

I shake my head fast. "No. I chose it."

His jaw punches out, his face getting very tight. "Why?"

Because I am tired of playing songs for thousands of strangers when the only wolf I want to look at me never even claps his hands. Because I want real love, not just loud crowds.

I give him a different answer so he does not see inside my heart. "Because traveling across the pack capitals is exhausting. My legs get tired, the spotlight is too hot, and I just want to play my violin when I want to. Not because I have to."

Something dark moves in his eyes. "So what will you do inside my pack house? Stare at the stone walls all day?"

"I will be your good little mate," I say, trying to tease him, but my voice shakes because I want him to yell at me and tell me I am bigger than that. "I will stay in the manor, look handsome for the pack, and run your alpha dominion affairs. You know."

He lets out a low growl, looking totally angry with my words. He remembers the bold eighteen-year-old boy who burst into his citadel at midnight demanding freedom. My father wanted this wedding to happen years ago, but Magnus let me delay it so I could finish my school and travel with the bards. My father finally said I must marry the Silverclaw heir at twenty-five or the pack treaty would break, so I said yes immediately to help Magnus.

Seeing his angry face makes my stomach drop. He looks completely disappointed in me.

I thought he would like me being obedient, because that is what my father and brothers always wanted from me. But Magnus just stares like I broke something valuable.

"Thanks to your resources, I got to taste freedom," I say, thinking of the gold saved in my own chest. "I have enough to live on my own if I ran to the Shadowfang Wilds. But I fulfilled my dream. I am ready for a family and passion now."

"So your whole music career was just for a tiny taste of being free?" he asks, his voice cutting like a tooth.

I force a laugh, wiping my hands on my trousers. "You are just mad because the Silverclaw Royal Pack put so much gold into my songs and now I am throwing it away."

"No," Magnus says very softly, but the quiet sound makes my skin goosebump. "The treasury already made a profit on your tours."

"That is great then," I say, tossing my head back. "I can retire without being sad."

He does not say another word. He just takes a big step back, breathes out a hard huff, and runs his fingers through his thick brown hair before turning his back to me.

I stand there feeling completely cold, wishing he would grab my waist, kiss me hard, and tell me he wants me. But he never does. He saves me from my family, builds my life up, and then leaves me completely starving for him.

"Tuesday. Moonstone Relic House. Ten in the morning. My elite pack guardians will bring the chariot to the Moonfang Manor. Do not be late," Magnus says, looking over his big shoulder before walking straight out.

I look at the empty doorway, my heart hitting my ribs, knowing I do not understand this wolf at all.

MAGNUS POV

HE DOES NOT understand anything.

I walk out into the dark hallway, my hands squeezing into tight fists while my claws try to poke through my skin. My whole body feels like a bowstring pulled too tight, my chest aching from holding my wolf back.

Stevens has absolutely no idea what he does to my senses.

The smell of his skin and his sweet wood-smoke scent is stuck all over my clothes. I can still hear his soft voice shaking in my ears, making my inner wolf want to howl. Those big eyes looking up at me like I am going to break him, or like he wants me to mark him right there on the floor.

I want to do it.

But I cannot.

I slam the heavy door of the pack chariot shut and throw my head back against the leather seat, letting out a wild breath to clear my nose of him. The royal pack driver says something to me, but I do not hear a single word. My brain is completely full of Stevens standing in that small room, his face red from playing his music, his chest huffing up and down like he just ran through the Whispering Moon Forest.

I told my wolf this was just a political alliance between the Andersen and Nielsen packs.

So why did I have to fight my own body to keep from throwing him over my shoulder and dragging him straight to my alpha den?

I grit my teeth, shifting against the seat because my trousers feel way too tight. He was teasing me, talking about being a good little mate and staying locked inside the pack house.

But the teasing did not make me mad—it was the look in his eyes. He looked like he was begging me to see him, begging for something my dark wolf does not know how to give.

I smash my fist hard into the side of the door, my jaw locking.

My brother Ulrich told me before: You do not take a rare bird just to clip his wings and put him in a stone cage.

No. I am marrying him because I promised my pack I would keep our ancient moon bloodline safe, secure our borders, and grow the Silverclaw Kingdom. This is about pack strategy.

But every single time he takes the stage at the Moonsong Arena, something burns hot under my ribs. It is a dangerous feeling, something I buried deep in the dirt after the rogue wolves killed Helge Andersen, showing me what happens when an Alpha cares too much.

Caring gets people killed.

Feelings make a leader stupid.

And I am already acting totally stupid when it comes to Stevens.

My hand goes into my pocket, my thumb rubbing the rough edge of an old silver token from Helge. He died because I was not fast enough. I push that dark memory back down into the black hole in my mind where it belongs.

I saved Stevens five years ago because he came to my citadel with big, scared eyes, crying because his father wanted to lock him up and force him to breed heirs for the pack. I gave him the guild because his talent deserved to fly away from that old bastard Tronte's fist. I gave him everything so he would never end up broken like the other young wolves in the pack territories.

But he is not supposed to hunt my thoughts like this.

He is not supposed to make my mouth water every time his lips open or his hips move or he looks at me like he wants me to touch him.

I rub my face and look up at the dark roof of the chariot.

I will buy him every single diamond and sapphire in the Moonstone Relic House on Tuesday. I will cover his throat in shining stones so no other wolf ever dares to look at his neck. I will put heavy jewels on his wrists so nobody thinks they can touch his skin. I will lock him under my name, under my protection, under my absolute control.

Because Stevens Nielsen belongs to the Silverclaw Throne. =

And when the moon rises on our wedding day, he will finally see what happens when an Alpha claims his mate.

Even if I have to burn for him in complete silence.

Even if I can never tell him how much his blood calls to mine.