Chapter 027

The moment the doors opened, the atmosphere shifted.

A ripple went through the hall soft gasps, murmurs, a quiet current of excitement that ran through every woman present. The scent of pine, musk, and smoke drifted in first, carried on the cool night air, followed by the unmistakable power of male wolves returning from the hunt.

My heart stuttered.

The Lycan brothers were the first to enter, each one distinct yet bound by that same commanding presence that made the air around them hum. Draven led the way, tall and unyielding, his dark shirt rolled at the sleeves, his expression calm but sharp enough to silence the noise around him. Daemon followed, his hair tousled, his mouth curved in a familiar, sinful smirk that made my pulse jump. Darius came last, composed as ever, his eyes scanning the hall until goddess help me! they found mine.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t blink. Just looked.

The room seemed to bend around that single moment, sound dulling in my ears.

Then Luna Amelia’s voice carried through the hall, smooth and commanding, shattering the quiet spell.

“Welcome back, my lords,” she said, stepping forward. Her silver gown caught the candlelight, gleaming like frost. “The hunt was successful, I presume?”

Draven inclined his head, his lips twitching faintly. “As always.”

“Then tonight,” Amelia continued, her smile gracious and knowing, “we celebrate not only victory but balance. The goddess’s dance has begun, and now her sons return to honor her feast. Please, everyone, eat, drink, and enjoy before the night’s next ritual begins.”

A wave of relief rippled through the crowd. Servants appeared, filling goblets with red wine and honey mead, refilling plates with roasted meat and bread. Conversation began again, louder this time, the tension slowly dissolving into laughter and the clinking of glasses.

I reached for a cup from a passing tray, mostly to keep my hands busy. My pulse hadn’t yet calmed.

Maris nudged my shoulder gently, eyes bright. “See? Nothing to be afraid of. They’re just men, dangerous, gorgeous men who could probably rip us in half, but still men.”

I huffed a small laugh despite myself. “You’re not helping.”

She grinned, sipping her wine. “Didn’t think I was.”

From across the hall, I could feel their eyes again like heat pressing into my skin. Daemon’s gaze was the most blatant, sliding over me without apology, while Darius remained still, half-hidden in shadow beside Draven. He didn’t look away, though. None of them did.

Selene had reappeared somewhere near the front, laughing too brightly, her hand brushing Daemon’s arm as though staking her claim for everyone to see. My stomach twisted.

“Do they always stare like that?” I murmured.

Maris followed my gaze, then chuckled softly. “Only when something, or someone interesting catches their attention.”

I turned my head sharply, giving her a look, but she only raised her glass with a playful wink.

Across the room, Luna Amelia lifted her cup as well, her sharp eyes sweeping over the gathering like a queen surveying her court. “To unity,” she said, voice carrying easily above the chatter. “And to the bonds that hold our kind together strong, unbroken, and eternal.”

The crowd echoed her toast.

But as I drank, the wine tasting darker than before, a strange unease settled deep in my chest.

Because in that moment surrounded by wolves, witches, and Lycans, nothing felt eternal. Not bonds, not vows, not even safety.

Especially not safety.

And when Draven’s voice cut through the noise, deep and deliberate, announcing the next dance, my fingers tightened around my cup.

The second half of the night was beginning.

“Mate to mate, friend to mate, and let the unmated wait until choosen.” Draven annouces beginning the second half of the night.

Immediately, Selene sneaks her hands around Daemon smirking at me. Something that was almost similar to jealousy and anger tour deep inside me.

I turned my face away from where Daemon had causally held her in the waist without sparing me a glance.

I watched as people got paired up for the second time this evening, standing on the side.

I felt an eyes burning into the back of my head, silently willing me to turn. Finally I gave in a met the burning gaze of Darius as he crossed the hall to me.

I had actually expected Draven, with him I know what to expect but with Darius it was a mix of everything.

But I couldn’t deny how my body betrayed me each time they were near and being in the same space as them was making all the more worse.

He stopped in front of me, silent for a heartbeat that felt far too long. The music had slowed again, the rhythm pulsing like a heartbeat through the hall. Every pair had already moved to the center floor, bodies close, voices low. The candlelight flickered across Darius’s face, catching the faint shimmer of sweat along his jaw and the sharp gleam in his eyes, eyes that didn’t waver from mine once.

“Dance with me,” he said, not asked.

My breath hitched. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The words came rough, quiet, but they cut through the noise as if the hall had gone silent just for them.

He extended his hand, palm open, waiting. I hesitated, pulse stuttering painfully, then placed my fingers in his. His skin was warm too warm and the moment he closed his hand around mine, a shiver ran straight up my spine.

The crowd around us melted away. The music swelled, a slow, haunting melody meant for pairs who already knew the rhythm of each other’s hearts. Darius pulled me gently but firmly into the circle, one arm sliding around my waist, drawing me close.

I shouldn’t have let him.

I should’ve stepped back, said no, remembered every reason why being near any of the brothers was dangerous. But the second I met his eyes again, my resolve trembled and cracked.

He moved like someone who didn’t need to think about it, smooth, deliberate, his body leading mine without effort. My palms pressed lightly against his chest, and I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath the fabric of his shirt.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, voice low enough for only me to hear.

“Like what?” I whispered, barely able to breathe.

“Like you’re afraid of me but don’t want to be.”

I stiffened, but he only drew me closer, until my forehead brushed his chin.

Ohh goddess help me his NECK!

It was just there staring at me, the veins, I wanted to trace them with my tongue.

He swallowed as if hearing my thoughts, ours eyes met, both in a silent plea for something more than this.

Around us, laughter and whispers faded into a soft blur. Every inhale brought the scent of smoke, pine, and very masculine something uniquely his.

“I’m not afraid,” I managed, though it came out weaker than I meant.

He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Then why is your heart racing?”

I bit down hard on the inside of my lip. “You’re imagining things.”

He pulled back just enough for our eyes to meet, his expression unreadable. “Maybe.” A pause. Then, quieter, “Or maybe not.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. The music slowed even further, the lights dimming as if the moon itself leaned closer to watch. For a fleeting second, it felt like we were the only two in the hall like the world had stopped breathing just to see what would happen next.

And somewhere across the floor, I could feel Draven’s gaze cold, heavy, possessive watching us both.

The hall seemed to fall away as Darius’s hand still rested against my waist, guiding me through the rhythm of the slow, haunting melody. My heart was pounding so loudly I barely heard the laughter and chatter around us.

Then the air changed.

It grew heavy—thicker somehow.

And before I could turn, before I could even name the sensation crawling down my spine, I felt another presence join us.

Draven.

He moved like liquid shadow, slipping between us with such effortless authority that even Darius stilled. The other dancers began to slow, attention shifting subtly toward the center of the room toward us.

“Don’t stop,” Draven murmured, his voice smooth and deep as he reached for my other hand. “Keep dancing, little wolf.”

I didn’t know if he was talking to me or commanding me, but when his fingers brushed mine, my body obeyed before my mind could protest.

Darius’s hand tightened at my waist, refusing to let go, while Draven drew closer from behind, his chest nearly touching my back. The three of us moved together—an impossible, dangerous rhythm that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow did.

The crowd watched in silence as the two brothers moved in perfect, predatory sync, Draven leading, Darius holding, both eyes fixed entirely on me.

“You look exquisite tonight,” Draven murmured near my ear, his breath tracing the line of my neck. “Like the moon dressed herself in silk just to compete.”

The words melted into me like honey and fire.

“Beautiful,” Darius added, his tone lower, rougher. “Even the goddess herself would be jealous of you.” His gaze roamed over my face, my lips, my throat, lingering long enough to make my knees weak.

Draven’s hand slid down my arm, fingers grazing the curve of my hip, while Darius’s palm splayed against my back, steadying me as they turned me between them—one heartbeat, two bodies, one impossible dance.

The music swelled.

So did the heat. I couldn’t breath, it was all too much.

How much I wanted both of them.

Like air and water.

Every brush of Draven’s hand was deliberate, a test of control, while Darius’s touch was possessive—like he wanted to claim me there, in front of everyone, and dared anyone to stop him. My pulse stuttered with every step, every twirl, every shift of their bodies against mine.

The world blurred.

It was only them.

Only the brothers.

And me caught between their dark, consuming gravity.

Draven’s voice came again, low enough that only I could hear.

“Do you feel it, Rain? How the room stops breathing when you move?”

I swallowed, unable to answer.

Darius leaned closer, his lips brushing the edge of my ear. “They all see you now. They all know who you belong to.”

His words sent a tremor down my spine, and Draven smiled behind me, the faintest, dangerous curve of satisfaction on his lips.

We moved as one, three shadows beneath the chandeliers, the scent of wine, perfumes and the intoxicating scents of my mates!.

My heart hammered as if it wanted to break free of my chest.

By the time the music slowed into its final haunting note, I was shaking. Not from fear. Not entirely.

But from the weight of their eyes. Their touch.

Their unspoken claim.

And across the room, Daemon stood at the edge of the crowd, his fists clenched, his stare burning through the flickering candlelight—wild, jealous, and barely restrained.