CHAPTER 10

Elara’s Pov

The walk to the gardens felt like stepping into a dream I hadn't yet earned.

As Varick led me through the corridors of the Citadel, I couldn't stop my head from turning. 

My eyes stayed wide, drinking in the majesty of the building. 

Unlike the cold, sterile marble of Silver Ridge, this place was crafted from dark stone, warm timber, and ancient soul. 

Towering arches reached toward the sky, and every flickering torch seemed to whisper stories of old heroes.

"It’s... beautiful," I breathed, my voice echoing faintly against the stone.

Varick looked down at me, a flicker of pride in his icy gaze. 

"My mother cultivated these gardens herself," he said, his voice softening. "It is considered one of the finest in the North."

As we stepped through the heavy doors, the scent hit me first: a dizzying, wonderful perfume of night-blooming jasmine, pine, and wild berries. 

It was so fresh, so alive. 

I had never smelled anything so clean.

"It’s perfect," I whispered, a flutter of genuine joy stirring in my chest.

Nestled in the center of a massive arrangement of heart-shaped flowers sat a low table. 

It rested directly on the manicured grass, surrounded by plush furs and silken cushions. My breath hitched at the spread. 

It was overflowing with luxury: platters of glazed roasted meats, vibrant mountains of seasoned vegetables, and golden loaves of bread still warm from the oven.

But it was the far side of the table that made my heart race: biscuits dusted with sugar, delicate cream cakes, tarts filled with dark fruits, and a steaming porcelain pot of aromatic tea.

I saw Sora immediately, her familiar face a comfort in the overwhelming beauty. 

Beside her stood a younger woman with hair braided in silver ribbons.

"Elara!" Sora called out, her face lighting up. 

She rose and waved me over with a welcoming skip in her stride. She took my hands in hers, her touch grounding. 

"Look at you! You’re looking so much better, dear."

Varick’s staff had brought me clothes earlier, a gown of soft, midnight-blue wool lined with silk.

It was the most luxurious thing I had ever touched. 

I remembered staring at the fabric for ten minutes, terrified to put it on, convinced it was a costume for some cruel joke.

"You look so pretty, Elara," Sora said, her eyes shining. "The blue brings out the light in your eyes."

I looked down at the grass, my face heating. 

Pretty?

The word felt wrong. I was the girl with the scarred back and hollow cheeks; I was the one meant for the shadows.

‘Why is she saying that?’ My old insecurities clawed at my throat. ‘She’s just saying it because the Alpha is standing there. She can’t mean it.’

I risked a glance at Varick. He wasn't looking at the food or the garden. 

He was looking at me, his expression unreadable, but his gaze so intense it felt like he was memorizing my features.

"I... I don't think..." I started, my voice failing.

"Sora doesn't lie," Varick rumbled, stepping up behind me. 

His presence was a shield against the breeze. "And neither do I. You look exactly as a Luna of the Vanguard should."

I bit my lip, my heart thudding. I didn't believe them, not yet, but for the first time, looking at the flowers and the feast, I didn't want to run back to the cellar.

I sank onto the thick, plush furs, the fabric so soft I felt like I was floating. I waited for Varick to sit beside me, but he retreated a few paces. 

He stood in the shadows of a towering cedar, arms crossed over his massive chest. He wasn't leaving; he was guarding. 

He watched us with those piercing blue eyes, ensuring the world stayed quiet for me.

"This is my assistant, Miri," Sora said, gesturing to the young woman.

Miri beamed, her face dimpling with a sweetness that felt entirely genuine. 

"It is such an honor to finally meet you, Miss Elara," she said, her voice like a tinkling bell. "Welcome to the gardens. We’ve been so excited for you to join us."

Miss.

The title hit me harder than a physical blow. No one had ever called me "Miss." I was always Omega, Glitch, or Hey, you.

To be addressed with respect by a stranger made my throat tighten.

"Thank you, Miri," I managed to whisper, my fingers tracing the edge of a silver tea tray.

"Now, Miss Elara," Miri continued, pouring a cup of fragrant tea and sliding it toward me. 

"Since you’ll be staying with us, we must know your heart’s desires. What do you like? Do you prefer sweet tarts or savory meats? Mountain lilies or night-roses? Tell us everything!"

I stared at the honey cakes and the roasted venison, a wave of confusion washing over me.

"I... I don't know," I admitted, my voice trembling. "I’ve never been asked what I like before. I usually just... ate whatever was left."

A flash of pained sympathy crossed Miri’s face, but she quickly masked it with an encouraging grin. 

"Well, then! Tonight is for discovery. We shall try a bit of everything until we find what makes you smile."

Sora patted my hand. "Take your time, dear. There’s no rush in the North. Here, try a honey biscuit. They’re my favorite."

I picked up the golden biscuit, my hand shaking. I took a tiny bite. 

The sweetness of the honey exploded on my tongue, followed by the rich weight of butter. 

It was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted.

I looked over at Varick. He was still in the corner, his gaze fixed on me. 

When he saw me take that first bite, the corner of his mouth quivered just a fraction.

He looked satisfied, as if seeing me eat a simple biscuit was a victory.