Chapter 3 - The Perfect Mask

“Can I ask my beautiful Luna for a dance?”

The voice startled me from my spiraling thoughts. I turned and found Aldric standing there, one brow arched in quiet amusement. His dark hair, always a little tousled like he’d just come from sparring, caught the golden light of the chandeliers. His smile wasn’t wide, but it was… kind.

So unlike Varrick’s.

I straightened my shoulders, hiding the crack that threatened to split me open. “Of course, Beta Aldric.”

The surrounding murmurs shifted as he offered his hand. A Luna dancing with a Beta - it wasn’t scandalous, but it wasn’t common either. It was a statement. Perhaps Aldric knew that. Perhaps I did too.

His palm was warm, his touch grounding. As he guided me onto the dance floor, I braced myself for the stiffness I’d felt dancing with my own mate. But instead, Aldric’s hold was firm without being constricting, steady without being cold. My body fell into rhythm almost naturally, my muscles remembering how it felt to be led, not shoved through motions like a marionette.

“You look tired,” he murmured, just enough for me to hear over the violins.

I forced a small laugh. “Lunas are never tired. We’re unbreakable.”

Aldric’s eyes, storm-grey, searched mine. For a moment, I thought he might say something reckless, something that would draw too much attention. But instead, he only smiled faintly. “Then you wear the mask well.”

I swallowed hard. Did he know? Or was I imagining suspicion in every shadow tonight?

The dance ended too soon. I let him bow, thanked him, and turned before the heat in my cheeks betrayed me.

The rest of the night blurred into obligation. I danced with elders, laughed politely at warriors’ drunken stories, offered advice on training schedules, patrol shortages, border agreements. My tongue moved by instinct, the way a bird sings at dawn - reflex, tradition. I hardly heard my own words.

What I noticed was his absence.

Every time my gaze swept the hall, I expected to find Varrick. But he wasn’t where a mate, an Alpha, should be. Not greeting the visiting beta, not commanding attention from his warriors, not keeping his Luna close.

Gone.

The thought itched like nettles beneath my skin.

When I finally stepped away, my throat aching for water - or maybe something stronger - I found myself at the refreshment table. A familiar scent struck me first. That perfume. Sweet. Sticky. Suffocating.

The omega.

She was standing behind the table now, refilling goblets with trembling hands. The pale hair was unmistakable. I approached, smiling as though I were not unraveling inside.

“Thank you,” I said when she offered me a drink. My voice came out too smooth, too calm, and the girl’s fingers jerked, sloshing wine over the rim.

Her cheeks burned red. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Are you well?” I asked softly, leaning closer.

Her throat bobbed. “Yes, Luna.”

But her voice cracked, and the goblet rattled against the tray like her hands couldn’t quite bear the weight.

Every instinct in me screamed. Something was wrong. Not wrong - guilty.

I nearly pressed her further when a new voice cut through.

“Luna Evelynn.”

I turned to see a Beta from a neighboring pack - Farren, I recalled - approaching with an easy smile. His presence broke the tension, but also scattered the questions I was about to demand.

“Beta Farren,” I greeted warmly.

He bowed his head. “It’s an honor to talk with you again. I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave us at the winter gathering. Our healers truly benefited.”

We exchanged polite words, his charm smooth as silk. And though I listened, though I nodded, part of me kept drifting back to the pale-haired omega. She slipped away the moment she thought I wasn’t looking.

Coward.

Or guilty.

The night wore on. Laughter rose higher, wine flowed freer, and couples spilled from the dance floor into corners and balconies. I played my role until the muscles in my face ached from holding my smile in place.

But all the while, I never saw Varrick again.

Not once.

Finally, when the candles burned low and guests began trickling toward the guest rooms, I let out a slow breath. Relief. Desperation. Maybe both.

I found one of the older servants near the edge of the hall, a woman who’d served this pack since long before I came here. Her face was lined with years, but her eyes were still sharp as a hawk’s. She approached quietly, bowing her head.

“Luna,” she said, her voice low, almost conspiratorial. “Shall I prepare your chamber?”

“Yes,” I answered automatically. My chamber. Our chamber. My heart clenched. “Has the Alpha retired already?”

Her mouth pressed thin, hesitation written in every line of her face. She glanced around before leaning closer.

“Perhaps…” she said slowly, “…it would be better if I prepared another room for you tonight.”

The air left my lungs in a rush. “Another room?”

She looked me in the eye then, and there was no malice in her gaze. Only pity. “Yes, my Luna. It might… spare you.”

The world tilted again, sharper this time. My fingers clenched so tight around my skirts I thought the seams might rip.

Spare me from what?

I didn’t need her to say it. I already knew.

I gave her a small, brittle smile. “No. I’ll retire to our chamber.”

Her lips pressed tighter, as if she wanted to protest, but years of obedience sealed her tongue. She bowed instead. “Yes, my Luna.”

My feet carried me through the corridors, though every step felt like walking into a storm. The lamps along the walls flickered, shadows stretching like reaching hands. My stomach knotted. My palms sweated against the silk of my gown.

I should turn back. I should... - No.

I was Luna. His mate. His wife. His equal. Whatever waited behind that door, it was mine to face.

I lifted my chin and mounted the stairs.