Chapter 2 : His Mate

The celebration was still going when I realized Luca was missing.

I'd seen him only a few minutes ago. Now he was nowhere. I scanned the great hall again and came up empty.

"Have you seen Luca?" I asked Aria.

She shook her head. "Not since the announcement."

That didn't sit right with me. Luca loved parties. He loved food, music, embarrassing me in front of important people. He wouldn't just vanish. "I'll find him."

I slipped away from the crowd. The balcony was empty. So was the training corridor. I finally headed for the gardens, and the second I stepped through the doors, I heard voices.

I slowed down. Angelina. And Luca.

I was about to call out when his voice stopped me cold.

"I thought I was going to be King."

Something in the way he said it made me freeze where I stood. I moved closer instead of calling out.

They were standing beneath the old oak tree. Angelina had her arms wrapped around him, his face pressed into her shoulder, his shoulders shaking. He was crying. My chest tightened at the sight of it — I had never once seen my brother cry. Not when he broke his arm at twelve. Not when Father caught him sneaking into the royal stables. Not even when he failed his first combat trial. Never.

Angelina ran her fingers through his hair. "You don't have to hold it in with me."

"I know." His voice cracked. "I just—" He swallowed hard. "I spent my whole life believing it would be mine."

She didn't interrupt him.

"The throne," he whispered. "I trained for it before I even understood what it meant." His hand curled into the back of her dress. "Father taught me politics. The council taught me diplomacy. I trained with every commander in this kingdom." A shaky laugh broke out of him. "I knew every rule. Every tradition. Every expectation."

Angelina held him tighter.

"And I thought one day—" He stopped. His voice broke clean in half. "One day I'd stand beside Evelyn and rule with her."

My eyes burned. I stayed where I was.

Luca pulled back just far enough to wipe his face. "I don't blame her."

Angelina looked up at him. "She didn't ask for this."

"I know."

"She didn't steal anything from you."

"I know." His eyes filled again. "But I'm jealous of her. I hate that about myself."

"You don't have to."

"I do." He glanced toward the palace, his voice dropping even lower. "Everyone in there is celebrating her. And I'm standing out here wondering why it wasn't me."

Angelina stepped in closer. "Luca."

"I love her."

"I know."

"She has no idea how much."

"I know that too."

He let out a broken sort of laugh. "Then why do I feel like this?"

"Because you're hurt."

"I shouldn't be. She's happy."

Angelina reached up and touched his cheek. "And you're allowed to be sad while she's happy. You don't have to choose between loving your sister and grieving what you lost."

He looked at her for a long moment, then dropped his forehead against hers. "I don't deserve you."

"You say that every time you get emotional."

A small laugh slipped out of him. "Because it's true."

"No." She kissed his forehead. "Because you're dramatic."

That actually got a smile out of him, and she pulled him back into her arms.

That was when I stepped forward. "Luca."

They both froze. He pulled away from her fast. "Evelyn—"

I walked toward him. His eyes were red, and I made a point of not staring at them. I looked at Angelina instead. "Thank you."

She nodded once.

Then I turned back to my brother. "You should have told me."

"I didn't want to ruin your night."

"You didn't." I paused. "I heard everything."

His shoulders dropped. "Evelyn—"

I reached for his hand. "Look at me." He did. I swallowed the lump sitting in my throat. "I promise you — I'll give you the throne."

His eyes went wide. "No."

"Yes."

"Evelyn, don't—"

"I never wanted it in the first place."

"You don't mean that."

"I do." I squeezed his hand. "You've spent your whole life preparing for this. You deserve it."

"So do you."

"No." I shook my head. "I don't. You're my brother. You were born for this."

His eyes filled again. "I'll talk to Father," I said. "I'll talk to the council too. I'll convince everyone."

"You can't just—"

"I will."

He looked over at Angelina, and she gave him a small, steady smile before turning to me. "Don't make a promise you can't keep."

I met her eyes. "I'll keep it." Then I looked back at Luca. "You're going to be King."

He couldn't get any words out. I pulled him into a hug instead, and he held on tight. For one moment, we were just brother and sister again, nothing else.

Then I stepped back. "I need to find Father."

"Evelyn." His voice was quiet now. "Thank you."

"Always." I left them there under the tree, with no idea yet that this promise would become one of the most important moments of our lives.

---

The great hall was even louder by the time I got back. I searched for my father near the council — not there. Beside my mother — not there either. I pushed through another cluster of nobles. "Where is he?"

I turned toward the far side of the room, and then it hit me.

One breath was all it took. A deep, musky scent cut straight through the perfume and wine filling the hall — warm, earthy, clean, with something wild underneath it that didn't belong to the flowers decorating the room or the hundreds of people around me.

My Lycan stirred, hard. My breath caught in my chest, and my heart started pounding. I didn't know what I was looking for. I only knew I had to find it.

I took a step. The scent got stronger. I took another, and my skin prickled — something inside me pulling, not gently, like an invisible thread had hooked under my ribs and was dragging me through the crowd. My Lycan pushed forward, straining toward it.

"What is happening?" I barely heard my own voice. People moved past me on every side, but I couldn't focus on any of them. All I could smell was him.

I followed the scent past the musicians, past the warriors, past a knot of laughing nobles. Then I saw him.

He stood near the far end of the hall — tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair a little messy, like he'd spent more time training than worrying about how he looked. He wore a plain black military uniform, none of the extra decoration most nobles liked to wear. Simple. Sharp. His hands hung at his sides, his expression calm.

Until he looked at me.

The second our eyes met, everything changed. His nostrils flared. His whole body went rigid. My Lycan slammed against my chest so hard it nearly knocked the breath out of me, and for one moment the world just disappeared — no music, no voices, no celebration. Only him.

His scent filled my lungs. My pulse thundered in my ears. Heat rushed through me all at once.

Then my Lycan said one word inside my head.

*Mate.*

My breath stopped completely. Across the crowded hall, his eyes went wide. He knew it too.

Neither of us moved. Neither of us looked away. For the first time in my life, I understood what it meant for instinct to recognize someone before your heart even caught up.

He was my mate.

And I didn't even know his name.