I Want Romance For A Lifetime

                                                                            ARIANTHE

The diamond chandelier glittered mockingly above me as I stood frozen in the hallway outside the grand dining room, my heart hammering against my ribs. Tonight was no ordinary dinner, it was the first official meeting between our kingdoms in over fifty years. The Silvercliff Pack, the most powerful werewolf royal family in the northern territories, had finally agreed to peace talks.

And I, Princess Arianthe Moonvale, the shameful secret of the Moonvale royal family, was about to be paraded before them like damaged goods.

"There you are, little sister. Still hiding in corners, I see."

My eldest sister Isolde's voice sliced through my thoughts. I didn't need to turn around to know my other sisters were with her; they traveled in a pack, unlike me, the wolfless wonder.

"I'm not hiding," I said, smoothing down the silver silk of my gown. "I was just…"

"Just what? Practicing your excuses for when you embarrass us all tonight?" Isolde stepped closer, her perfect face twisted with contempt. She was resplendent in deep crimson, her silver-blonde hair, a Moonvale trademark, arranged in an elaborate updo that emphasized her regal bearing.

My sisters formed a half-circle around me, their identical silver-blonde hair and azure eyes a stark reminder of everything I both shared and lacked with them. I had the Moonvale beauty, some whispered I had more than my fair share, but none of the power.

"Maybe we should keep you hidden away," Cassandra, the second eldest, suggested with a cruel smile. "What use is a princess who can't even shift? A wolfless beauty is just a human with a title."

"Father insists all six daughters be present," I said quietly, fighting to keep my voice steady. Twenty-two years of their torment had taught me that showing weakness only encouraged them.

"Yes, all six disappointments," Isolde laughed, reaching out to touch my face. I flinched away instinctively. "Such a shame. All this beauty wasted on the broken one."

"Maybe we should fix that," whispered Elysia, the twin terror with Daphne. "Make the outside match the inside."

My breath caught as Elysia's claws extended. I backed against the wall, the cool marble pressing against my spine. This was nothing new, their threats, their taunts, but tonight something felt different. There was a dangerous edge to their cruelty.

"Perhaps a little scar?" Elysia suggested, her claw moving toward my cheek. "No one would notice your pretty face then."

Inside me, something stirred, a warmth I'd never felt before, like magma shifting deep beneath the earth. For a wild second, I thought it might be my wolf, finally waking after all these years of silence. But the sensation faded as quickly as it had come, leaving me defenseless as always.

"Stop."

The voice cut through the hallway like a blade of ice. Deep, commanding, with the unmistakable power of an Alpha heir. My sisters froze, their expressions shifting from cruelty to courtly charm with practiced ease as they turned toward the sound.

I remained pressed against the wall, eyes lowered, mortification burning through me. Someone had witnessed my humiliation, and not just anyone. I knew without looking that it was him.

"Prince Thorne," Isolde purred, dropping into a graceful curtsy. "We were just helping our sister prepare for dinner."

I forced myself to lift my gaze, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

Prince Thorne Silvercliff stood before us like something carved from midnight and steel. Tall and broad-shouldered, he filled the hallway with his presence, dark hair swept back from a face of severe beauty. But it was his eyes that captured me, silver like the moon itself, now narrowed with suspicion at my sisters.

"Is that what you call it?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft. "Strange. It looked like something else entirely."

He stepped forward, and my sisters instinctively moved back. The power radiating from him was palpable, Alpha power, the kind that even other royals responded to.

"Your Highness," I managed, attempting a curtsy despite my trembling legs. "Please forgive the... scene. My sisters meant no harm."

His silver gaze locked with mine, and something electric shot through my body. That strange internal warmth flared again, stronger this time, spreading from my core to my limbs in a rush that left me dizzy.

Mate.

The word whispered through my mind, so faint I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it. But the widening of Prince Thorne's eyes told me he'd felt something too.

"Princess Arianthe, I presume?" he said, his voice lower, rougher than before.

"Yes, Your Highness." How did he know which sister I was? The forgotten one, the afterthought.

He moved closer, and my sisters parted before him like water. When he stood before me, I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. This close, I could see flecks of darker gray in his silver eyes, like storm clouds gathering.

"I've been looking forward to meeting all the Moonvale princesses," he said, though his eyes never left mine. "Especially the one I've heard possesses beauty beyond compare."

A flush crept up my neck. Was he mocking me? Everyone knew beauty was worthless without power in our world.

"Your Highness is too kind," I murmured. "But I fear you've been misled. In our family, beauty is common as silver, and just as cold."

Something sparked in his eyes, appreciation for my words, perhaps? But before he could respond, the dinner gong sounded, its resonant tone echoing through the marble halls.

"May I escort you, Princess?" Prince Thorne extended his arm to me, not to Isolde or any of my other sisters who were actually worthy of his attention.

Behind him, I saw Isolde's face contort with fury before smoothing into a diplomatic mask. "Prince Thorne, surely you'd prefer…"

"I asked Princess Arianthe," he cut her off without even looking in her direction. His eyes remained fixed on mine, intense and questioning.

I hesitated, then placed my hand on his offered arm. The moment my fingers touched the fine fabric of his sleeve, that warmth inside me exploded into a furnace. My knees nearly buckled from the sensation, like recognition, like coming home after being lost for centuries.

As we walked toward the dining hall, leaving my stunned sisters behind, Prince Thorne leaned down slightly.

"They're wrong about you," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "There's nothing weak about surviving in a den of wolves when they think you have no teeth."

My breath caught. "You don't know me, Your Highness."

His lips curved into a smile that transformed his severe features into something devastatingly handsome. "Not yet, Princess. But I intend to."

The grand doors to the banquet hall swung open before us, revealing the glittering assembly of two royal courts. All eyes turned to us, Prince Thorne Silvercliff, the Alpha heir of the most powerful werewolf kingdom, and me, Princess Arianthe Moonvale, the wolfless disgrace, walking in together as if we belonged at each other's side.

And somewhere deep inside me, in the secret place where I'd long ago buried all hope, something wild and ancient stirred, stretched, and began to wake.