CHAPTER TEN: A Taste of Fire, A Glimpse of Fate

Zara had never worn anything so dangerously magical.

The crimson gown shimmered like liquid moonlight, hugging her curves with supernatural precision. The neckline dipped just enough to scandalize, and the slit running up her thigh promised a war. Every inch of it pulsed with enchantment—Maxim's sigil was woven into the lining. A mark of protection. A claim.

She hadn’t agreed to the Council’s gala. Not really. But somehow, here she was—painted, perfumed, and paraded toward a ballroom filled with monsters in silk suits.

Maxim’s hand curled around her lower back as they descended the obsidian stairs of the Wolf Court, his touch possessive and grounding. Whispers swirled like smoke around them. Every eye turned. Power bowed. Envy burned.

The ballroom smelled of old blood and older secrets.

Zara swallowed hard, her heel clicking against marble. “You didn’t tell me it’d be… this.”

He didn’t need to ask what this meant. The chandeliers were carved from dragon bone. The floor pulsed with runes. Vampires mingled with witches, and the wolf clans stood in tense territorial arcs—Northfang, Ashspire, Bloodveil, Nightborne, and of course, Silverfang. Maxim’s clan. His legacy.

“You would’ve refused,” Maxim said, voice low against her ear.

“I still might.”

A hint of fang flashed as he smirked. “Too late. They’ve scented you.”

She didn’t need the reminder. The moment they crossed the threshold, she felt it—dozens of alphas and councilors turning toward her, trying to decipher what she was. She wasn’t just Maxim’s arm candy tonight.

She was his challenge.

And his proof.

The gala served one purpose: for heirs to present their mates, claim strength through unity, and declare their intentions before the next blood moon. If a bond failed scrutiny, it weakened their bid. If it passed… it sealed fates.

Maxim didn’t just bring her here to dazzle.

He brought her to declare war.

“Drink this,” he murmured, offering a silver flute filled with amber liquid.

Zara sniffed it. “This smells like power and bad decisions.”

“It’s laced with wolfsbane and truthroot,” he said. “Just a drop. It’ll hide your human scent.”

She hesitated, then downed it in one burning gulp. Her throat flared with heat, her bones ached for a heartbeat—and then everything sharpened. She could hear heartbeats from across the room. She could taste the tension in the air.

“Holy hell,” she muttered, gripping his arm. “What is this?”

Maxim leaned close. “Welcome to our world.”

They stepped further into the circle of predators.

From across the ballroom, a woman in silver approached—eyes sharp, movements feline. “Prince Vale. You didn’t RSVP.”

Maxim barely inclined his head. “Lady Selene. I figured I’d make a more memorable entrance.”

Her gaze flicked to Zara. “And who is this? Not another socialite trying to tame the beast?”

Zara opened her mouth, but Maxim beat her to it.

“This is Zara Cole,” he said, loud enough for others to hear. “Marked by my fang. Bound by moonlight. My intended, and soon, my mate.”

Silence rippled through the room. Then murmurs. Zara felt heat crawl up her neck. Some looked intrigued. Others, furious.

Selene raised a brow. “A human?”

Zara straightened. “A law intern.”

That earned a few amused chuckles, but the steel in her voice drew respect. Selene studied her again, then smiled faintly.

“Bold. I like her. She won’t survive the next moon, but I like her.”

She drifted away like smoke, and Zara exhaled slowly. “She just threatened me, didn’t she?”

“Consider it a compliment,” Maxim said. “In here, threats are affection.”

“And what’s murder?”

“Foreplay.”

Zara laughed, but the edge of fear still clung to her ribs. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t a wolf. She wasn’t anything but a girl with good grades, a sharp tongue, and a mark on her neck that glowed faintly under the ballroom lights.

Then she felt it—like lightning across her spine.

A presence.

A power.

She turned—and locked eyes with Victor Vale.

He stood across the room, dressed in black like a mourning star, his gaze drilling into her like a promise. She’d seen his portrait in Maxim’s office once. The disinherited brother. The snake behind the throne.

Victor smiled. Lifted a glass. And mouthed, tick tock.

Zara’s pulse spiked. “He’s here.”

Maxim didn’t look. “I know.”

“He’s planning something.”

“He always is.”

She gripped his arm harder. “Then why am I here? Why parade me in front of him like—”

“Because he needs to see that I’ve already won.”

His voice was soft, but iron-coated.

Just then, a chime rang out. The Council’s Master of Ceremony—an ancient warlock with glowing runes across his face—called for silence.

“It is time for the presentation of bonds.”

Maxim didn’t wait. He took Zara’s hand and led her to the center.

The room grew colder. Hungrier.

One by one, heirs stepped forward with their mates. Vows were made. Magic was tested. A few pairs flinched when the binding runes flared. One couple was disqualified when the mate’s blood turned black. Lies.

Then it was their turn.

Maxim’s voice rang out: “I am Maxim Vale of Silverfang. My claim is true. My bond, unbroken.”

Zara swallowed and stepped beside him. The Councilor raised a glowing crystal. “Speak your vow, mortal girl.”

Zara’s knees wobbled. Her throat went dry. But Maxim didn’t blink. His hand found hers.

She took a breath.

“I am Zara Cole,” she said. “Of no bloodline. Of no title. But I stand beside him by choice, not coercion. And I choose him still.”

The crystal flared gold. The crowd gasped.

The Master of Ceremony narrowed his eyes. “And do you accept the bond of fang and flame?”

Zara looked at Maxim.

His eyes glowed like twin moons. Not pleading. Not commanding.

Just… waiting.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Magic exploded between them. Heat surged. The mark on her neck blazed like wildfire. The ballroom trembled.

They were no longer just a pair.

They were a storm.

Victor watched from the shadows, glass untouched.

Maxim turned toward him, and for the briefest moment, their eyes locked.

The beast prince bared his fangs.

Let the game begin.