CHAPTER 4

ELARA

Another night, another banquet.

If I had a coin for every time someone shoved me into a gown and told me to “smile like the Moon Goddess herself,” I could probably buy the whole damn packhouse and retire.

“Hold still,” one of the maids said, stabbing another pin into my hair.

“I am holding still,” I muttered. “I’m practically a corpse. Just prettier.”

She didn’t laugh. They rarely did. Cyril had them trained to treat me like fine glass, beautiful, expensive, and not to be questioned.

He appeared in the mirror behind me, already dressed in his perfect black suit with a fur coat lining on the top, every button glinting like he’d polished them himself. “You look divine,” he said.

“Divine looks a lot like terrified,” I answered.

He smiled like that was cute instead of honest. “It’s just a banquet, my love. You’ll charm them. He paused, looking at my bulge.

“Both of you will.”

I wanted to say I’d rather fight a bear, but I just nodded and let him loop my arm through his. The hall outside glittered with gold light and perfume so thick I could taste it. Music swelled throughout the hall; harps, drums, and the subtle hum of power and politics.

Every table was loaded with food, not that I minded. Wolves in silk and fur coats moved through the crowd, all teeth and laughter. I hated these things. Too many eyes. Too many people pretending to adore each other while measuring throats for the next bite. It's crazy how much pretense people can possess.

Cyril guided me like I was a display piece. “Smile my love,” he whispered through his teeth. “They’re watching.”

Of course they were. Everyone always was.

We reached the main hall just as the herald announced another arrival, but no name carried, only a sudden hush. Conversations cut like someone had snapped a thread.

The doors swung open.

And there he was.

Tall. Dark. The kind of presence that made the air feel heavier. His eyes, storm gray, and sharp enough to slice through bone. His eyes found mine and held it.

My stomach twisted. For a second, I forgot where I was. The music faded into the background, colors dimmed, and all I could hear was my pulse hammering.

“Breathe,” Cyril murmured at my side. His hand pressed low against my back, firm and claiming.

The stranger’s gaze dropped to that touch. I didn’t imagine the flash of something dangerous in his eyes.

“Alpha Orion,” Cyril greeted smoothly, and suddenly the name echoed in my head like it had been waiting there for years. Orion. It sounded familiar and odd at the same time.

The Alpha didn’t answer right away. His attention was still on me. It felt like standing under lightning. My skin prickled; my body didn’t know whether to run or bow.

Cyril’s grip tightened. “My Luna,” he said to the crowd, loud enough for half the hall to hear. “Returned to me at last.”

A polite laugh rippled through the guests. I wanted the floor to swallow me.

I forced a smile and did what I always did…pretend. “Alpha Orion,” I said, dipping my head. “An honor.”

His expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind his eyes, pain? anger? I couldn’t tell.

Cyril thanked him for attending, his tone was covered in smug charm. They spoke, words buzzing like flies around me, but I caught none of them. All I felt was that strange, hot pulse under my skin.

And my baby moved. Kicking me like I did something offensive.

I pressed a hand to my belly. The motion must have drawn Orion’s attention because his gaze followed, softening for half a breath before he looked away.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Cyril leaned closer, whispering, “You’re trembling my love. Keep it together.”

“Maybe it’s all the staring,” I hissed back. He was becoming more annoying than ever tonight.

He laughed for show, kissed my temple for the audience, totally ignoring my annoyance and turned us toward another cluster of guests. But underneath all I could still feel Orion’s gaze on me like a weight.

People talked. Toasts were made. Someone told me I was glowing. Someone else asked if I missed the southern gardens. I smiled through it all, nodding in the right places, saying nothing that mattered. Inside, my mind was unraveling.

That name…Orion…kept circling. Like I’d heard it before in a dream. Like it belonged to a life I couldn’t remember.

I caught another glimpse of him across the room. He was talking to a council elder, but his focus stayed fixed on me. The air between us stretched tight.

Cyril noticed. “Ignore him,” he said quietly. “Northern Alphas think staring is a form of diplomacy.”

“Seems effective,” I said. “I’m almost convinced.”

He didn’t appreciate that. His jaw ticked. “Smile.”

I did…just not at him.

The rest of the night felt like walking through smoke. The lights blurred, my head swam, and my heartbeat wouldn’t settle. Every time I blinked, I saw that man’s face again.

Then the room tilted.

The goblet slipped from my hand and hit the floor. The crash rang out like thunder. Conversations stopped.

“Elara?” Cyril’s voice sharpened.

I tried to answer, but my throat wouldn’t work. The scent of pine and rain filled my head, heavy and clean. My knees buckled.

And then, clear as day, someone spoke inside my mind.

‘Found you’.

I jerked, staring wildly around. No one was near enough to whisper.

The words came again, softer, and closer.

‘You know me’.

My pulse screamed in my ears. The baby moved again, frantic now, and heat rushed through my chest like fire under my skin.

Cyril caught me as the world faded to a blur of color and noise. “Elara!” he shouted, but his voice was far away.

The last thing I saw was a flash of those storm-gray eyes across the hall; fierce and somewhat desperate, before everything went dark.