2. The Betrothal Gala

Cora’s POV

I had spent nearly an hour on my hair, coaxing the stubborn, mousy waves into something resembling a polished updo. I leaned into the mirror, carefully applying a layer of rose-tinted gloss. I didn’t need the shimmering, pheromone-laced cosmetics the Pureblood females used to attract a mate; I already had the only heart that mattered.

I smoothed the skirt of my cream silk dress. It was an elegant piece, lacking the protective runes or heavy silver embroidery of pack formal wear, but it made me feel… seen. It clung to the new, subtle curve of my waist, and for the first time, I didn’t want to hide.

“You look like a lamb going to slaughter,” Magda muttered as I passed her in the servant’s corridor. She didn’t stop to look at me, but her words felt like a cold draft.

I ignored her. She didn’t know. Nobody knew.

I stepped onto the balcony overlooking the Great Hall, and the sheer scale of the Gala took my breath away. Thousands of candles were perched on invisible ledges—a clever architectural trick that made them appear to float in the air, casting a golden glow over the sea of warriors and their mates. The scent was overwhelming—expensive champagne, exotic flowers, and the underlying, electric hum of a pack at the height of its power.

As I descended the stairs, I felt the weight of a thousand eyes.

I didn’t have the supernatural hearing they possessed—I couldn’t hear the sharp, predatory whispers that followed me—but I didn’t need to. I could see it in the way the high-ranking she-wolves leaned into each other, their eyes darting from my human dress to my face, their lips curling in synchronized disdain. I could guess the words: *Why is the ward here? Does she really think she belongs on a night like this?*

I kept my chin up, my gaze fixed on the dais.

I found my spot near the front, tucked just behind a marble pillar where I could see Silas. He was already there, flanked by the Council of Elders. He looked terrifyingly beautiful in his ceremonial furs, his Alpha mark glowing a faint, restless silver.

Then, his eyes found mine. For a split second, the noise of the crowd seemed to dim. He didn’t smile, but the intensity of his gaze made my heart soar. *This is it,* I thought, my hand instinctively fluttering toward my stomach to offer a silent reassurance to the life inside. *He’s going to tell them.*

The drums stopped. The silence that followed was so absolute it felt heavy, a vacuum that sucked the oxygen from the room.

The High Elder, a man whose face was a map of ancient scars, stepped forward and raised a silver-tipped staff. “The moon is full, and the blood is strong. Behold Silas Vane, son of the Storm, Alpha of the Silver Moon!”

A roar went up—a sound so visceral and primal it vibrated in my teeth. Silas stepped to the edge of the dais. He looked every bit the King I knew he could be.

“Members of the Silver Moon,” Silas began, his voice amplified by the natural acoustics of the stone hall. “Tonight, I take my place as your Alpha. But a King cannot lead a pack into the future alone. To ensure our strength, to solidify our borders, and to honor the traditions of those who came before us…”

He paused, and for a heartbeat, he looked directly at the pillar where I stood. My breath caught in my throat. I braced myself, a smile already beginning to form.

“I am proud to announce my union with a female of equal strength and lineage. Tonight, I claim Lady Elara of the Blood-Claw Pack as my future Luna.”

The hall erupted In cheers.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. It felt like my blood had turned to liquid nitrogen, freezing me from the inside out. I watched as a woman stepped out from the shadows behind him—a vision in midnight blue silk, her eyes glowing with a triumphant, predatory gold.

Silas didn’t look at me again. He reached out, took Elara’s hand, and raised it high.

The noise of the celebration followed me like a pack of hunting dogs as I fled. I didn’t stop running until the air grew cold and the damp, mossy breath of the woods replaced the scent of the Gala’s lilies.

I collapsed onto the stone bench beneath our willow tree, my lungs burning. This was our place. This was where he had whispered that I was his “moon and stars.” I gripped the cream silk of my dress, my fingers digging into the fabric until I heard a faint pop of a seam.

*It’s a strategy,* I told myself, my breath coming in ragged hitches. *He’s the Alpha now. He has to play their games. He’ll come here and tell me that Elara is just a figurehead.*

A twig snapped. The air shifted, that familiar static charge of his presence prickling my skin. I stood up, wiping the tears from my cheeks, a desperate, pathetic hope rising in my chest.

“Silas,” I breathed, turning toward the shadow leaning against the tree.

He didn’t move toward me. He stayed in the darkness, the moonlight catching only the sharp, cold line of his jaw. “I told you to stay in your room, Cora. You’re making a scene by being out here.”

“A scene?” I stepped forward, my voice trembling. “Silas, you just announced your betrothal to another woman. You promised me—under this very tree—that you would never let them pull us apart.”

Silas stepped into the light, and my heart sank. There was no warmth in his silver eyes, only a flickering, bored annoyance. “I said a lot of things when I was an Alpha Prince, Cora. I was young, and you were… a pleasant distraction from my responsibilities. But the moon has risen. I am the Alpha King now. I don’t have time for nursery rhymes.”

“A distraction?” The word felt like a physical blow to the stomach. “Five years, Silas. We spent five years together. I was the one who stayed up with you when your father died. I was the one who—”

“You were the one who knew your place,” he snapped, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl that made the leaves above us shiver. “You are a human ward. A guest in my house. Don’t mistake my past indulgence for a future commitment. Lady Elara is a Pureblood; she brings an army and a legacy. You bring… what? A pretty face and a few human tears?”

I reached out, my fingers grazing the expensive wool of his jacket. “Silas, please. Look at me. It’s me. It’s Cora. We love each other.”

He looked down at my hand as if it were a stray hair on his sleeve, then flicked it away with a sharp, repulsed motion. “Love is for people who don’t have a kingdom to run. You’ve had your fun, little bird. Now, grow up. You will stay in the servant’s wing, you will perform your duties, and you will never—never—mention our ‘history’ to my Luna.”

He didn’t wait for me to agree. He didn’t even look for a confirmation. He simply adjusted his cuffs and turned his back on me, his cape swirling behind him as he began to walk away. He was so certain of my obedience, so sure that I would simply fade into the background and act as if those five years had never happened.

I stood there, my hand frozen over the pregnancy test in my pocket. My heart didn’t just break; it felt like it was being systematically dismantled, piece by piece. He hadn’t just rejected me; he had erased me.

In the distance, I heard the crunch of gravel and the high, melodic laughter of Pureblood females heading toward the clearing.

Panic surged through me. My first instinct—the one drilled into me by years of being “the ward”—was to hide. I couldn’t let them see me like this. I couldn’t let them see the human girl crying over a King. I hated myself for it, but I obeyed his order to disappear.

I bolted. I scrambled through the thick undergrowth of the forest, the thorns of the blackberry bushes catching on my cream dress, tearing the silk I had cherished only an hour ago. I ran until the lights of the citadel were nothing but a hateful glow against the clouds, my lungs burning with the effort of not screaming.

I stopped at the edge of the manicured lawn, the white stone of the Medical Wing looming ahead of me like a tombstone in the moonlight. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the test. Two pink lines.

He didn’t want a legacy with me. He wanted me to stay in my place, to be a silent ghost in his house while he built a life with someone else. He had threatened to hurt me if I ever caused a scene, if I ever dared to hurt his precious reputation.

I looked at the cold, silent building of the clinic. My hand reached out, my fingers trembling as they touched the door handle. I wasn’t going to go back to my room. I wasn’t going to be his secret anymore.