Chapter 10: Royal Nightmare

DEVA LOREN/ LANA ALVAREZ.

The banquet for the celebration was not as huge as the one the Luna would have, but it was a large feast featuring the best musicians in town, the top nobles, people from Scarletmoon pack, amazing cuisines, and gossip from people who looked at me curiously from a distance, examining me as though I was a newly discovered rare species. They watched me all evening. All of them. Like I was something they were waiting to see crack. The rest came to congratulate me, and so did the witch Aaron married.

"Congratulations, Deva. I feel blessed to have you here with me. I hope we get along well enough for our children to be the best of friends."

I glanced at Aaron, realizing I hadn't thought about having his children a lot. What if I do? Give birth to a man who does not love me. An uncanny feeling pricked up my spine. I wasn't sure I still believed in true love after what I had been through, but I do not believe in having to raise my children alone or my children being taken from me when I gave birth to them. It is unnecessary and strange. It made me shiver; it was cold, and I was unhappy.

Aaron's sharp blue eyes met mine before they were averted again.

"You do not wish to respond?" Sophie resummoned my attention.

She always wants to make me look like I hate her, I do, yet...

"Pardon me, Sophie. Yes, I do hope our children become the best of friends." I pray yours are nothing like you.

The feast stretched into the night, thick with roasted spice and the scent of spilled wine. The walls echoed with laughter I didn’t trust and toasts I didn’t believe. I sat beside him, dressed in silk and pearls, but I might as well have been draped in silence.

Then the music changed.

The room quieted, hushed like a held breath. A string quartet began, slow and deliberate, a deep cello drawing the first note like a blade from its sheath. Violins followed, high and eerie, almost mournful, or maybe it was how I felt deep down. Beneath it all, a single drumbeat pulsed low, steady, and slow. It was a song for a ceremony, not joy. Beauty with weight behind it.

And the host announced our dance.

He stood.

No words. No glance. Just the expectation that I would follow, and I did. He turned back and stretched his hand, a move I didn't expect.

"Do you not want to take my hand?" He queried me. Of course, I didn't want his hand. To hell with his hand. But I took it. I was here to seduce him, make him fall for me, make him love me, and I was already doing a terrible job. My only option was to try to gain his friendship. I took his hand gently. Our fingers grazed through the thin material of my gloves.

He led me to the center of the marble floor, cleared now of dancers, guests, and warmth. His hand found my waist like he was claiming something. His other hand took mine, and though his grip was controlled and steady, one would think he desired me, but oh, it was far from that. I placed my free hand on his shoulder, silent, wearing my responsibilities like another layer of silk.

We began to move.

The rhythm was slow, almost dreamlike. Each time I relived my dreams about Aaron as a child, I felt like there was a blade piercing through my heart with no hesitation. He stepped forward, and I stepped back. We turned, rotated, and spun in elegant circles that felt more like a chess game than a dance. My gown fanned out around me, pale fabric flowing like mist behind me, and his cloak followed him like a second shadow. The dance was elegant at its best.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. We held each other's gazes like we were communicating; his eyes were silent, devoid of a message. Mine were aching; I tried to mask it. I did my best to be immune to him, to all he made me feel, but I was failing. How do I look at the man who ruined my life differently?

The violins climbed higher. My hands trembled like a breath held too long, while the cello hummed beneath the sound of the violins in blissful rhythms, heavy and constant. It sounded like something dying beautifully. I was dying.

They watched us—nobles, betas, courtiers. Some curious. Some jealous, mostly Sophie. She could not stand to see us together. I wanted to taunt her, let her know that I could take everything she has. I leaned into Aaron, pressing my body against him.

My hands were around his neck, digging into his hair. He sucked in some hair, and his nostrils gently flared, his eyes looked at me differently. Did he like it? Or was he controlling himself from trying to embarrass me in front of a good number of people?

Whatever it was, he stayed still, holding me closer to him.

To everyone watching, it'd look as though I had captured him in a fervent enamor of desire for me, but I came to the conclusion that he danced with me to save my dignity.

We broke apart slowly, and the crowd clapped in appreciation. Most faked it, and many pretended to like it. One, however, could not hide her rage from me, and that was Sophie.

The ceremony ended late into the night with my mother seeing me off to my chambers.

"I selected the perfect dress for you," she told me. "You must wear it. The moment he sees you in it, I know he will cave and touch you. After all, you took after my endowed body."

"Yes, mother." The words sounded heavy at the tip of my tongue as I spoke. She was not a mother; she was a deceiving planner.

It was daunting for me, honestly.

"Remember, the first-night ritual is everything. Even though your innocence has been soiled by that man." My fists clenched as she mentioned Liam. He wasn't mine; he was Deva's, yet I could only imagine her having to go through all this for a family that hated her and belittled her always. "You must make things better by pretending he pleasures you greatly; that is the boost of a man's ego. If it'll help you can imagine the face of the man you love."

I gasped. "You are insane if you think I am going to disrespect my memories with him with that."

She grabbed my shoulders, pressing into them. "How do you think I have survived living with your father all these years?"

I widened my eyes in disgust, yet pity for her. But also at the realization that she had Deva for Alpha Cain while she was in love with someone else.

This wasn't a royal family. It was a royal nightmare.