2. The Envoy

A month had passed.

A month since Eryndra had fled from her mate. Now, it was time to marry that Lycan beast.

As her tired gaze met the mirror, her chest tightened.

Staring back at her was a female she hardly recognized. Clad in accessories that made her feel like goods being wrapped for delivery.

This wasn't her fate, but she had to bear it.

She had to bear this awful responsibility that made her heart ache beyond measure.

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.'

Last month, her mother had cast the Veil Spell.

After that, Eryndra had spent many nights recalling her mate.

She imagined the disappointment on his face after seeing her gone. Imagined him searching restlessly for her.

The guilt ate her up, and she wished she hadn't left him the way she did.

Maren had warned her that if fate ever brought their paths together again, she had to stay away, or the Veil Spell wouldn't hold for long.

Then again, what were the chances of that?

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

That thought gave her a little comfort.

Eryndra's mind wasn't the only thing in turmoil that morning. The entire pack was as well. 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 someone of such rank as an envoy?"

"Because, dear, the road is dangerous. Many packs fought for this position. There are envious eyes swimming in the realm, but do not worry. I 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?"

A shadow crossed Maren's face knowing what she meant, but it quickly disappeared.

"No one will," her voice was sharp and firm. "As long as you remember who you are, you will be safe. May the moon above guide you."

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

A knock sounded again.

“They're waiting,” the guard called from outside.

Maren gave her one last look before leading her into the hallway.

Eryndra followed, her palms damp as they approached the Alpha's chamber.

Several maids stood outside, openly gawking at the door.

They scrambled away the moment Maren's glare landed on them, some suddenly becoming interested in cleaning the walls while others hurried off.

Eryndra drew in one last breath.

Then, with her head held high, she entered her father's chamber.

Her gaze immediately caught on her father.

Alpha Reavion appeared visibly stiff, a smile so awkwardly wide on his face that he was 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. 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 the stranger who claimed her in that cave...

The Crown Prince's best friend.

Her mate.