Moonblood

One: The Banquet And The Bond

EIRA

“Eira, Will and Quentin,” Macy barks. “The king’s banquet needs more hands. Now.”

My heart lurches. Not because I fear the work, but because not just any Omega was summoned to the palace.

“W-what? Me?” I whisper.

“Did I stutter, Eira? Get up and get moving!” She scolds, slamming the door shut on her way out.

I flinch and scramble to my feet. Quentin shoots me a wide-eyed look. I shrug.

This is the first time we would serve at a banquet or even step into the palace. I'm not sure what is so special about this banquet, but some part of me is nervous.

Will steps out first, then Quentin and I follow. My heart is in my throat as we cross the courtyard.

The night is illuminated by the lights that come from the palace and the pack house.

“Why do you think she asked for us?” I whisper to three of them. My thumbs twiddle nervously.

Will scoffs. “You heard Macy, they need more hands.”

“Right,” I mumble. Quentin shakes his head at me.

My teeth chew on my lip as we reach the palace. Macy stands at the back with her hands on her hip.

“How long does it take you three to move from there to here?” She hisses and flings clothes on us. “Put this on, wash your hands and get in there.”

I look around for a place to change when Macy shoves me into a corner. “Get in there, Eira! Stop looking so lost!”

With shaky hands, I change into the royal maid uniform—a blue, and red attire. Omegas are the servants of the pack. We serve, clean and cook for the pack.

I tie my curly white hair into a bun and make my way into the kitchen. Some familiar faces nod at me as they move around, and I can hear the party happening a few doors down.

“Take this to the king’s table.” Macy pushes a tray of glasses containing wine into my hands.

“The king’s table, Eira,” she reminds. “Mistakes won't be tolerated.”

Macy is a Beta, and her job is to head the Omegas. She rules over us with an iron fist and a sharp tongue. She doesn’t work with us, she only directs us.

Laughter, music and conversations meet my ears as I step into the ballroom that has turned into a banquet hall.

Then I smell it. Sharp pine, lavender, and frost. The scent wraps around me like a second skin. My heart thuds painfully against my ribs.

Mate.

My wolf stirs, clawing toward the surface. Every cell in my body recognizes him.

Heart pounding, I search for the source as I  approach the king’s table.

The scent is stronger now. My body heats up, pulse thumping frantically. And then our eyes lock. My bright blue orbs and his piercing golden eyes.

Our Alpha, King Cassian.

He is beautiful. Amber-colored eyes, a thick head of black hair… and a body corded with muscles.

His eyes flash and my heart drops to my stomach. He doesn’t come after me, he doesn’t reach for me.

I place the tray beside him, and he growls. The sound sends a thump in my pulse.  It picks up frantically, and I bare my neck in submission.

“Your Majesty.” I bow.

He jerks to his feet. I flinch.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” He grips my hand and marches down from the Alpha chambers. Heat flames across my skin from the contact.

A loud hush falls, and eyes follow us. Macy pokes her head through, and frowns when she sees me.

She probably thinks I messed up, but it’s far from that.

“Please,” Cassian calls. His voice booms across the room. “Excuse me. I’ll be back shortly.”

And just like that, the music picks back up and so do the chatters.

Excitement causes my toes to curl. It is surreal. My mate is not just an Alpha, but a King. Our King.

If I could kiss the moon goddess, I would. This is the best day of my life.

***

Cassian leads me to his room. The door clicks shut, and that’s all he needed.

“Mate!” He growls. I whimper for him, and his nostrils flare. His eyes flash between two shades of golden.

Then… he pounces on me. Our lips meet in a frenzy. The kiss is punishing. Bruising. Hungry. A moan works out of my throat and his groan is my response.

His hands are rough on my skin. They skim my arms, my breasts. When he reaches my bum, he gives a firm squeeze, and my toes curl in my boots.

“Goddess, you feel so good.” He rasps, voice thick. He pulls my hair out of my bun and tugs. My neck strains in response.

His tongue licks along the column of my neck. And all of a sudden, a loud rip sounds in the room. My clothes pool at my feet and I step out of my shoes.

“I’m sorry, but I need you,” he says.

“You have me, my king.”

I can’t recognize my voice. It’s breathy, and drips with desire. Lust. Longing.

Strong arms pick me up. The roughness of his clothes chaff at my bare skin, but I don’t mind. Not at that moment.

We cross the room in one step, and he places me on the bed. Cassian crawls up my body and settles between my thighs.

I help take off his clothes, and soon enough, we’re skin to skin. Sharing one breath.

I am one of the lucky few that has found my mate early. And what a blessing it is.

Cassian. Alpha king Cassian Vael is my mate. I’m yet to wrap my head around it.

“What’s your name?” Cassian asks. I brush a hand through his thick black hair. Right now in this room, we’re equals.

Then, I smile. “Eira. Eira Quinn.”

“Eira.” He tests the name on his tongue. My name has never sounded better.

 “My mate,” he declares.

With that he pushes into me. A soft cry leaves my lips as he breaches my barrier. Tears spring to my eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he groans, pausing his movements. “Goddess, you’re a virgin.”

I sniffle. “It’s alright. You can move.”

He does. Cassian’s hips snap slowly against mine. We move together, in sync. Eyes locked on each other as the world around us fades.

I love him. But I don’t  know him yet. And that is the beauty of the mate bond.

As we hover over the edge of our climax, our moans and groans grow louder. Something inside me coils tight, and Cassian’s thrusts become jerky.

Higher and higher we climb. And just as we reach the peak, I bare my neck, waiting for the mark that doesn’t come.

Cassian’s grip tightens on me, his fangs brush my neck but doesn’t pierce. Just like that, we tip over the edge.

He rolls over, catching his breath while I pull the sheets over my body.

The silence that follows is deafening. Thick.

My throat tightens.

“You didn’t mark me.” My voice trembles.

He doesn’t meet my eyes. Just stares at the ceiling like the weight of what he did—or hasn’t done—is too heavy to carry.

“No,” Cassian replies, voice flat. “I didn’t.”

And suddenly, the warmth of our bond feels like a lie I had told myself.