#Chapter 3: Just One Drink

The day of the banquet was soon upon us.

I was assigned twice the workload since the palace was expected to be immaculate upon the King’s arrival. But with my escape attempt imminent, the extra rush of endless chores actually served as an outlet for my nerves.

Perhaps anticipating my anxiety, Derek had assured me that he would stay by my side and escort me across the empire’s border. That he would take me as far as the distant peaceful lands to the east– where witches dwelled.

If anywhere was safe from the Tyrant, it would be the witches domain. The Witches’ held a longseated grudge against the Lycans, having long ago been the very ones who rendered them Cursed wolves.

I smiled, briskly sweeping along the wide corridor. Witches, curses. Eastern land. Peace.

Odd of Derek to indulge in such romance. It was the stuff of pups’ tales.

I could still recall the stories, and the songs. I remembered how one song started low and then wound high….

“--hey. Hey! I’m speaking to you, werewolf bitch.”

It was the other omega sweeping nearby. In truth, I had forgotten she was there.

“Yes you, now shut up,” the omega snarled. “Your singing isn’t all that that pretty or special to be showing off.”

It had been a while since I was assigned work paired up with a Lycan. I had forgotten how insufferable they were.

Even ones who were of omega rank looked down on me for not being a Lycan.

“You really think you can draw the King’s attention like that?” she went on. “Piss off. Acting all uppity just because you were spared as a child after he mistook you for a mate.”

“I’m not here to impress anyone. Unlike you Lycans, I wish to the Moon I'd never set foot in this place,” I snapped.

It was a goddess damned epidemic the way all the female Lycans (and some male) had started shamelessly panting over the news of the King’s return.

One of the praises that were hailed about the Tyrant is that he was devastatingly handsome, heartwrenchingly gorgeous, sculpted with time and care by the Moon Goddess.

The last time I saw him in person, he had knelt down low and held my hand very briefly as he bid farewell in formality. “I will return to you.”

The little girl I had been in that moment could only compare him to a storybook prince. Ink-like hair falling forward– eyes black as obsidian, as if taken of the night sky itself– and skin sun-tinted and smooth.

But that memory stayed tucked away behind the cutting images of endless red, and stiff silhouettes of my pack laying still for good.

“You expect me to believe that? Like hell you’re not desperate after all these years,” the other omega sneered. “He won’t even know who you are– he never sent word for you or checked on you despite your supposed mate bond.”

“You think I want this bond?” I spat, scorn driving my words out. “The bond isn’t a blessing of the Moon Goddess, it’s a curse that’s brought me nothing but torment!”

The other omega gasped sharply, her face going pale and mouth going slack. I thought I'd startled her with my bold words, because no one in these halls dared speak of the King that way.. But I tracked her gaze and realized her wide eyes were staring at something behind me.

And there, stood the King's Beta Tyler.

“My Beta,” the other omega said quickly, bowing her head.

“Leave us,” Beta Tyler barely glanced at her. He was staring hard at me, eyebrows furrowed and jaw tight.

I had frozen on the spot since realizing too late he was there. The other omega shot me a smug look as she passed me, and then I was alone with him.

“My Beta,” I mumbled, waiting for the first blow to come.

I couldn’t help but flinch as his arm shifted, unhurried as the movement was. But instead of a strike landing on my face, Beta Tyler’s arm uncurled from an open finery chest.

There was a dress inside. It looked elegant, made of smooth fabric too expensive for me to name.

“The King requests a private audience with his mate after the banquet,” Beta Tyler said then, holding the chest toward me.

Taut with alarm, I took it as calmly as I could, trying to hear his words beyond the pounding of my pulse in my ears. “Of course. My Beta.”

He had made the chest look light, but I stumbled slightly as I took it into my arms. Beta Tyler kept his arms reached, as if prepared to help steady me. But I was pulling away, not meeting his eyes.

Beta Tyler lingered for a moment, and I stayed fully alert, still awaiting my punishment…. Then, he turned and walked away.

I watched him leave until he turned a corner far down the corridor. And only once he was out of sight, I turned the opposite way and moved quickly as I could manage to my sleep space in the omega dorms.

An audience? With his mate? No. No!

I was foolish in allowing myself to relax in the false security of his absence. The King had not forgotten about me after all.

Of course he remembered the daughter of traitors. Of course he remembered the prize he’d deposited here for storage, now ripened to fulfill mately duties and ready for him to do as he pleased with.

I gathered my things, a small pack I had prepared for tonight. I couldn’t possibly sit and wait, to be tracked all eve by the King and his men, and then collected as soon as the King saw time fit to retire. I needed to leave now.

The palace was already bustling, last minute preparations being rushed to completion.

Somehow I managed to find Derek in the midst of it all. He was giving orders to a group of stressed-looking iotas, who took note of his every instruction.

It was always striking to see Derek act in his Gamma status. One would never guess that he was largely ostracized like he always complained.

Even more striking was his attire– lavish fabric pressed and sharp, blacks on blacks with the matte shines blending sleek in the light. These were not travel clothes. But Derek had more eyes on him due to his rank, so it was important he played his role as long as we remained in this cursed place.

He looked Lycan, through and through– like this was exactly where he was supposed to be. I hesitated at the sight of Derek, also worried that being seen with him would only cause trouble. Just as I decided to move up my escape plan and go it alone, he spotted me. He came to me as soon as he was able to dismiss the iotas.

"What's wrong? You don't usually come around here for me."

Derek's familiar, soothing tone washed over me, melting away my sudden doubts. I laid out the entire story of Beta Tyler's visit. "I'm moving up the timeline. I have to run now." I said in a rush, only now realizing how breathless I was. “I can’t stay here, I can’t.”

Derek was ushering me down the hall, away from most of the noise of the celebratory preparations. Like always, he let me speak, eyes sharp as he took in my words.

“I hear you,” Derek finally said, sitting me down. He had brought me to a room, a resting place where guests were taken to wait sometimes. “Stay calm,” his voice steadying. “I’m still getting you out of here. But I’m in the middle of seeing to something urgent. Wait for me here.” He poured a mug of water and handed it to me. “Drink this. You need to stay hydrated to think straight.”

I accomplished what he said, the drinking part. Derek made sure I drank it all, tipping the mug further when I attempted to put it down half-empty.

Calming down was the next challenge. But Derek cupped my face in his hands.

“I promise I will take you away from all of this,” he said, voice low. “I'll protect you.”

I looked at his face, and it struck me hard that it was Derek talking. Not Gamma Derek. We had practically grown up together.

He would take me away, to the lands where witches dwelled, where the Tyrant King couldn’t hurt us.

Already, I felt myself relaxing. Actually, I felt rather drowsy. Like I could fall asleep….

When I woke up, I felt weak and ill. Seren was writhing within, as if struggling. But she felt oddly distant.

A flicker of unease stirred in me. How had I fallen asleep so abruptly? The blurry shape of Derek standing nearby was a small relief, but my vision remained too hazy to focus.

“Derek?” I called out. But then I felt there was a dull pain throbbing through my hands and up my arms.

I tried moving, only to realize my hands were restrained by handcuffs. Startled, I yanked at them. Metal clattered softly, singeing where it touched my flesh.

Not just metal, I realized with mounting panic. The cuffs were pure silver, the very metal that could kill a werewolf best.