1. The Envoy

A month ago, Eryndra had fled from her mate.

Not because she feared him or didn't want him, but because of the crushing duty resting on her shoulders.

After her older sister, Ishara, was found dead beyond the border, Eryndra had been chosen to take her place as the Lycan Crown Prince's bride. A compromise bride, or no bride at all would bring ruin upon the Silverion Pack.

She was the only one who could save it.

Her mind drifted back to that night in the cave. The stranger with silver-gray eyes and a scent so dangerously intoxicating it had stolen every rational thought she possessed. The one who had claimed her as his mate.

When Luna Maren discovered what had happened, she cast the Veil Spell, concealing their bond so that if fate ever brought them together again, he would never recognize her.

But Luna Maren had warned her that if they ever crossed paths again, she had to stay away or Veil Spell would not hold forever.

Still, what were the chances?

A male with a scent as faint as his had no place in the Citadel. Unless he was a servant, their paths were unlikely to ever cross again.

The spell tightened around her chest like invisible chains.

She'd spent many nights thinking about him wondering if he'd searched for her, if he'd been hurt by her disappearance.

The guilt never truly left.

Eryndra stood stiff as a board while the maids fussed around her, pulling and tightening the dress until she was certain her ribs would crack before she even reached the Citadel.

It was Ishara's dress.

Beautiful. Elegant. Ivory.

The embroidery rested low against her neck, the corseted waist stole her breath, and the bodice pushed up her breasts, exposing the line of her cleavage.

She met her own reflection.

Staring back at her was a female she hardly recognized. Light makeup, slightly blushed cheeks, thicker eyeliner, jewelry, and other adornments made her feel like goods being wrapped for delivery.

Finally, the last strap was tied.

Eryndra sat and let the maid pin her auburn hair up, styling it with rhinestones, and as they worked, her mother's stern advice lingered in her mind.

'Be kind and presentable to the prince.'

'Do not question him and do whatever he says no matter the circumstances.'

'You will be the future queen. Make a difference.'

It wasn't just Eryndra whose thoughts were in turmoil that morning.

The entire pack was restless. Servants and guards bustled through the packhouse, while whispers echoed from every corner.

"Is there a reason the pack is so chaotic, Mother?" Eryndra asked as soon as her mother stepped in.

Luna Maren paused at the sight of her dressed, a quiet admiration flashing in her eyes, though it didn't quite cover the hint of nervousness beneath it.

She dismissed the maids with a wave of her hand and approached.

"The Crown Prince sent the Grand Marshal to escort you."

Eryndra's heart skipped. "The Grand Marshal?! Why would the Crown Prince send a rank like him as an envoy?"

"Because, dear, the road is dangerous. Many packs fought for this position. There are surely envious eyes swimming in the realm, but do not worry, I've heard the Grand Marshal is a great protector. He and the Crown Prince are as tight as a drum. Leave a good impression with him, but be extra careful." Maren's voice dropped discreetly. "He is well known as the Dark Knight. Many have died by his blade."

A shiver ran up Eryndra's spine, and for a moment she considered stopping this. It was too overwhelming. But it was too late now.

A knock echoed through the chamber.

Eryndra stiffened as the guard called for her.

"Mother. Do you think they'll find out?" She shivered. "I hold too many secrets. What if they find out what I am?"

Maren's voice was sharp and firm. "Remember what I taught you. Remember who you are, Eryndra Tarianne. May the moon above guide you."

Eryndra could feel the heavy weight on her mother's shoulders. It's never an easy thing to lose one daughter a month ago and send the other into royal hands.

As they reached the hall that led to the Alpha's chamber, Eryndra paused in her tracks at the unbelievable sight of maids gawking at the door.

They scrambled off when they met Maren's glare, some suddenly interested in cleaning the walls while others left immediately.

Palms sweaty, Eryndra drew in one last breath, and with her head held high, she entered her father's chamber.

Her gaze caught her father first.

Alpha Reavion appeared visibly stiff, a smile so awkwardly wide on his face, practically doing a terrible job of trying to impress the male before him.

This male.

Now she knew the reason the pack was all in a frenzy, especially the females.

Eryndra had heard talk of Grand Lord Theron Ashrendel. He was known by many names.

A paragon of Dionysus. Godslayer's Shadow. The Moon Reaver. The Dark Lord. The highest of the military ranks, his loyalty to the crown knew no bounds.

His aura was undeniably overwhelming and regal, as though he commanded the room without even trying.

If he drew this much attention, she wondered how much more the Crown Prince would have drawn had he come here himself.

Her view of him was obstructed by another male who seemed to have come with him. A sorcerer with white hair. He spotted her first, then shifted aside, giving her a clearer view of the Grand Lord, who suddenly stopped tapping his finger the moment he seemed to sense her presence too.

Wait.

Eryndra's brows creased.

Why does he look so familiar?

"There she is!" Alpha Reavion announced. "Come here, Eryndra. Lord Theron has been waiting."

Ever so slowly, Lord Theron turned his head.

First his jaw. Then the line of his nose. Then--

Grey-silver eyes.

Eryndra's stomach dropped. The room suddenly turned too hot.

By the full moon. Please. No.

Those eyes. Those sharp features and soft lips—all that had claimed her that night was unmistakably him.

Grand Lord Theron Ashrendel...

Was stranger who claimed her in that cave...

The Crown Prince's best friend.

Her mate.