Chapter 6

Darian's POV.

As soon as David leaves the bath, Darian decides he is ready to leave. He wraps a towel around himself, dries off, then heads down the huge hallway, sliding in the opposite direction from where Belle had gone down, revealing an even more beautiful part of the stunning palace.

These parts have more expensive artifacts lining the walls, swords from old kings, beautiful golden embroidery that show off the wealth of Moonveil.

And of course, several guards.

Their necks are stiff as always, spine straight, never daring to look the Prince or any of the other royals in his eye.

The only person who dares looks into his eyes without fear is that maid, he notes to himself.

He turns down the left wing, walking stealthily until he reaches the oak doors that guard his chamber.

The guards there bow low, then pull his door open, closing it behind him with a soft thud.

His eyes run over the dark space like it's the first time; his walls made of dark stones, the long grey curtains, the black sheets, and even the black rug on his floor.

His mother, the current queen of Moonveil has complained several times about the dark colours, often instructing the servants to add some colourful decorations which he absolutely loathes and removes before the end of the day.

He likes the space dark...it makes his wolf calm.

He sighs tiredly, running a hand through his hair, before he sinks into the softness of his sheets.

The mate finding ceremony....a mandatory tradition, something he finds unnecessary and draining. If he wanted a mate, he could just pick one without the drama, asides the fact he doesn't want to be used as a pawn of alliance.

And who even made that stupid rule? That Prince's weren't allowed to be crowned without a mate?

What could a mate possible offer that he couldn't do all by himself?

He groans again, just as he hears a gently knock on his door.

"My lord, I'm here to help you get ready.." a maiden's voice calls outside,

"Come in." He commands, sitting up.

He's clad in only a short and small, thin garment now. And the maiden's ears visibly turns pink as she starts to unbutton his designated robe with trembling hands looking away from his broad, hard chest.

Darian smirks.

It takes a few minutes, but finally he is being dressed in his official attire as crowned Prince; deep red, heavy tunic that has gold embroidery scattered all over the front.

After which a dark cloak is placed over him next, held in place by a golden clasp that held the moonveil's royal crest.

Jewelry next... Rings lining each finger, chains on his neck, until he looks imposing and rich.

Moonveil was no ordinary kingdom; it dominated more than half of the werewolf trade routes, and it's influence stretched across werewolves territories. It was also known to command one of the biggest armies in the east, and their warriors were highly feared.

They were wealthy beyond measure, and other warewolve clans sought their alliances. This was also why so many families and clans brought their beautiful omega or human daughters

So yes, he had to look the part as Prince, already seemingly used to heavy jewelry and clothes like these.

After about half an hour, the maiden finishes and bows, leaving right as David walks in, equally dressed elegantly.

"Mother is upset." David says, referring to Darian's mother, "She's been waiting for you."

"Then she should wait." Darian rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to ruffle his hair. and David just laughs, adjusting his own tunic, before leading the way for Darian to follow.

They reach the grand already pre-decorated hall in a few minutes, and the huge twin oak doors open at ,as the chamberlain announces his arrival.

"The Alpha, the Prince Darian of Moonveil has arrived!"

He schools his expression, and walks in with a seductive smirk on his beautiful face, one he uses when he needs to charm people, chin high, shoulders squared.

And as the Alpha Prince stepped fully into the hall, the shift is immediate. The noise stops, laughter dying down in an instant, the room holding it's breath.

They didn't need to see him, to feel it.

His Alpha pheromones. Manly and warm, but strong. Lingering through the hall, grasping everybody's attention, swallowing the scent of everything else.

He lets his gaze drift over the room, the excessive decorations. His heightened sense of smells catching the lingering scent of oil candles, and the pheromones of the Omegas.

Truth be told, his mother had taken her time to carefully picked beautiful women for him, but they smelt fruity, too sweet, and Darian suspects they were specifically instructed to release their pheromones around him, giving the Omegas an advantage over the human alliances.

But things like these don't work on him.

They never did.

He's always preferred a sharper scent, one that could match his fire, something that could intrigue him.

Like, HER smell.

He likes her smell.

The new maid.

But despite his thoughts, he takes his time, planting soft kisses on each of their hands, giving them all equal attention, not too much, not too little.

Some of the Omegas giggle loudly, some look away, others turn pink. The Alpha prince is an attractive man after all, with beautiful bright brown hair, and green eyes that could pierce through your soul.

One Omega girl nearly falters from his scent, her breath hitching, fingers squeezing the hem around her dress.

Another human girl with beautiful pale skin and silky long black hair, pressed her thighs together unconsciously, stuttering when Darian asked for her name.

Omegas and humans were all affected by him. And they all craved a chance to charm the powerful prince.

Then his eyes shifts to her. His mother, Queen Skyler, a beautiful, equally imposing alpha with darker green eyes and black hair.

Their eyes meet.

To everyone else, it looked like a sweet moment between son and mother, but only Darian and Skyler could really tell what went on beneath the mask.

Skyler could see straight through her son's act with the Omegas, and Darian in turn could see the tightness of the smile plastered on her face.

He has to fight the urge to scoff.

"Mother." He bows sarcastically when he reaches her.

"Darian." She repeats with a nod, shooting him a look as he takes his seat on the throne. In Moonveil, the Prince supersedes all political and social matters, even if the coronation has not begun yet.

But Darian has barely settled in when there's a sound of clatter just outside the hall. They hear the chamberlain scold a maid, loud enough that it catches the attention of the Queen..

She stands, eyes sharp, trying to check what the commotion is about, but Darian stops her.

Because he knows what's going on, he can smell it.

That same intoxicating smell..

It was her.

Isabella.