Banquet of Masks

Anya's POV

The warmth of Azkarion’s chest against my back was the only thing reminding me that I was still alive. His hand continued to press firmly over my mouth, preventing me from letting out even the slightest gasp of terror. My human eyes tried to pierce the thick gloom of the suite, fixed on the heavy velvet curtains that led to the balcony.

Through the fabric, a dark, elongated silhouette was outlined against the glass. The lock gave a subtle, almost imperceptible creak. Whoever was outside knew exactly how to bypass the physical security of the mansion.

Azkarion tilted his head a fraction, brushing my ear with his lips while slowly releasing my mouth.

“Stay in bed. Do not breathe heavily,” he hissed, a whisper so low that I doubted even the guards in the hallway could hear it. “If anyone enters, your only job is to make sure they do not smell your fear.”

Before I could nod, he slid out from under the silk sheets with the fluidity of a shadow. He made no sound. Not a creak of wood, not a rustle of carpet. He positioned himself beside the window, blending into the darkness of the corner, his muscles tense and ready to pounce.

The balcony glass finally gave way with a sharp crack. One of the panes opened, letting in a gust of cold wind that made the dying flames of the fireplace dance. A hooded figure, dressed in black and emitting a sharp, wild scent that my blocker barely allowed me to distinguish, slipped into the room. He held a pure silver dagger in his right hand.

The intruder had not taken two steps before hell broke loose.

Azkarion lunged at him with the ferocity of a starving wolf. He did not transform, but the strength of his human body was enough to slam the attacker against the stone floor. The sound of the impact was dry and brutal. The silver dagger flew away, clattering against the metal fittings of the fireplace.

The intruder let out a strangled growl, trying to drive his claws into Azkarion’s bare torso, but the Alpha was relentless. He snapped the attacker’s wrist with a quick, sharp movement, then pressed his knee against the man’s throat, suffocating any attempt to escape.

“Who sent you?” Azkarion demanded, his voice dropping to a register so deep and vibrating that it made the windowpanes rattle. His gray eyes glowed with liquid, lethal gold in the shadows.

The attacker spat blood, his pupils dilated with fear, but refused to speak.

The double doors of the suite swung open with a crash. Gideon entered at lightning speed, his yellow eyes blazing and his claws fully extended, followed by three pack guards. Upon seeing the scene, the Beta stopped short, sniffing the air roughly before fixing his gaze on the dying intruder, then on me, still hidden under the sheets.

“An infiltrator in the east wing!” Gideon growled, stepping forward. “How in the world did he bypass the perimeter? Turn on the lights, now.”

One of the guards pressed the switch. The blinding light of the crystal chandelier flooded the room, revealing the carnage on the floor. The intruder was a young wolf, a rebellious omega from the southern factions.

“Take him to the basement cells,” Azkarion ordered, standing up slowly, showing not the slightest trace of agitation, even though the attacker’s blood stained his abdomen. “Gideon, I want a full report on the security breach before dawn. Someone from inside opened that balcony door.”

Gideon clenched his jaw, exchanging a look heavy with unspoken meaning with Azkarion.

“It will be done immediately, Alpha,” the Beta replied, dragging out his words. “But the Ancestral Council is already on its way. The welcome banquet begins in a few hours. Are you going to present yourself to the elders with your territory compromised… and with a Luna who seems to be trembling under the covers?”

I sat up in bed, pulling back the sheets with calculated slowness. I let my hair fall over my shoulders and looked at Gideon with a coldness that hid the absolute terror consuming me inside. The smell of fresh blood in the room was altering my senses, but Azkarion’s lesson was still engraved in my mind: wolves bite, they do not hide.

“I am not trembling out of fear, Beta Gideon,” I interrupted, raising my voice with sharp arrogance. “I am trembling with rage. It is unacceptable that the security of the second-in-command is so deficient that it allows a parasite to interrupt his Alpha’s rest. If I were you, I would worry more about fixing your incompetence than about the state of my sheets.”

The guards in the hallway stifled an exclamation. Speaking to the Beta like that was a death sentence for anyone else, but as the supposed chosen Luna, I had the status to trample his pride.

Gideon fixed me with a murderous gaze, his claws twitching with the desire to tear at my throat, but Azkarion’s imposing figure stepped between him and me, emitting a wave of alpha pressure that forced everyone present to lower their heads.

“Get out of my sight. Now,” the Alpha decreed.

Gideon gave a tense bow and left the room with the guards, dragging the wounded intruder behind him.

When the door closed, I let myself fall back, rubbing my temples. The chemical blocker was still working, but cold sweat was threatening to dilute it.

“You were almost killed,” I said to Azkarion, my voice a little more broken than I had intended.

“He was almost killed the moment he stepped onto my territory,” Azkarion replied, walking toward the bathroom to wipe away the blood. “Get dressed. The green dress is on the chair. Masks are no longer just for the club, Anya. The Matriarchs’ banquet starts in two hours, and after this, they will sniff every inch of your skin looking for a weakness.”

Two hours later, I stood in front of the dressing table mirror, wearing a magnificent dark green silk gown that clung to my body like a second skin, leaving my shoulders and neck exposed. It was the color of the Hunters. I applied a triple dose of the chemical blocker to my pulse points, making sure the artificial scent of an omega wolf was thick and dominant.

Azkarion entered the dressing room, looking impeccable in a tailored black designer suit, the perfect image of a high-society CEO, yet with that look of an ancient predator still intact. He approached me from behind and placed a heavy emerald necklace around my neck. His cold fingers brushed my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Remember the rules,” he whispered in my ear, looking at our reflection. “Do not lower your gaze to anyone. If they offer you meat, eat it. If they challenge you, answer. And above all…”

Martha, the housekeeper, knocked urgently on the dressing room door. Her face was pale.

“Alpha… I am sorry, but there is a problem in the great hall. The Council Matriarchs have brought an ancient silver chalice. They demand that the future Luna pass the blood attunement test before she takes her seat at the table. If she does not, they will declare the engagement an insult to the lineage.”

I looked at Azkarion through the mirror. The blood attunement test involved drinking from the sacred chalice mixed with the Alpha’s pure essence. If even a single drop of that supernatural blood entered my human body, my system would reject it violently, causing convulsions or instant death in front of the entire Council.

Azkarion held my gaze in the reflection, his eyes turning completely golden.

“The game has become more complicated, little liar,” he murmured. “Are you going to back down, or are you going to enter the banquet and drink from my cup?”