Chapter one

ZEVA.

"The Lycans would be here soon, Alpha. Any orders?" The scout's voice, tight with a barely suppressed unease sliced through the silence of the royal office.

"No, you may leave." Dren instructed, flicking his wrist with a dismissive wave that spoke volumes of his arrogance. Even confided to his ridiculously ornate wheelchair, he exuded an aura of power, a dark intoxicating feeling that had me drawn to him years ago despite knowing better.

"Yes sire." The scout bowed and turned to leave. As soon as he left, I stepped closer to Dren.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, moving closer, my boots silent on the polished obsidian floor. The air in the room, usually heavy with the scent of Dren's expensive musky cologne and the faint metallic tung of his power, felt charged with an unknown dread.

Dren's perfectly sculpted eyebrows, dark and sharp against his pale skin drew together in a mask of pure disgust. He didn't look at me directly, his gaze was fixed on some invisible point behind the tapestries depicting our pack's glorious history. "You mean?"

"The Lycans can't be trusted," I pressed on, ignoring the prickle of his displeasure. "To just simply entertain them just because they are asking for trade and peace which is sudden and how they agreed to your terms-"

"Are you saying my judgement is wrong?" He cuts in, the words were low, dangerously smooth but the tremor of anger beneath them was unmistakable.

"No," I said firmly, my own wolf, Lira, stirring restlessly within me, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "I'm just saying that you may be too foward." I wasn't about to sugarcoat my words. He liked it that way. He needed my strength, my grounding influence even if he'd never admit it. Just like I needed his formidable, albeit tainted power. It was what bound our marriage, not love, but a contract forged in necessity. He was a chronic cheater,discreetly of course. But I always knew, I always caught him and sadly it was just another layer of the complex, often suffocating bond we shared.

"Too foward?" He asked.

"Yes."

His beta, Elara, who stood some distance away snickered under breath. I could feel her mocking gaze on me. My spine straightened, and I turned to face the woman, making her lower her gaze.

That's right- just because you're sleeping with my husband doesn't mean you have the right to stare at me in the eyes, bastard.

"Do I need to remind you of your position in this palace, Zeva?" Dren asked, his voice now laced with a chilling, controlled fury. The disgust was gone, now replaced by an icy command that threatened to shatter the air between us.

"No, Dren. I'm well aware," I said, my gaze locking with his. "I'm the mother of this land, and your wife... I just have a bad feeling about this."

"In that case," he wheeled his wheelchair foward. "You may stay indoors in your chambers while we celebrate and discuss further. Either way, I was going to come to your chambers tonight. It wouldn't be wrong if you spent the whole day preparing."

The implication was clear, a crude reminder of the only thing he truly valued in our arrangement. Sex.

I said nothing and just stared down at him, my lips pressed in a tight line. The unspoken agreement hung heavy between us: I provided strength, protection, legitimacy and he, in turn, offered greater power and access. It was a pragmatic, brutal sort of partnership. Letting out a deep sigh, I nodded. "Alright. I'll prepare for you Tonight. But I'll also attend the feast. It's my right."

"You may do as you please."

I turned to leave, the moment I stepped out of the office, my maids fell into steps behind me. Upon reaching my chambers, I dismissed them all. I slumped onto my bed, the silk sheets cool against my skin and sighed hard.

'I hope he falls off that wheelchair and dies one day.' Lira's voice, rough and tempestuous echoed in my mind.

"Oh Lira, if he dies right now, it would be horrible for us," I said, the words a weary groan as I lay down, staring at the ornate carvings on the ceiling. "Both Kingdoms will go to war and once again we will be separated which would be terrible,"

'Then what do we do? Tolerate more of his insolence?'

"We do what we do best. Protect him at all cost. For some reasons. I don't have a good feeling about this new Lycan King."

'Neither of the Lycan Kings has never been to any good.'

"In that case, we better prepare for the worst."

-

The arrival of the Lycan King, a hulking brute named Kaelen, was announced with a fanfare that felt ostentatious, even for our pack. He was all sharp angles and predatory grace, his eyes were a set of intelligent amber.

We all sat in the huge Hall, the long polished table gleaming under the flickering torchlights. I sat opposite Kaelen, my gaze fixed on my food while Dren occupied the head of the table, a king in his own right despite his limitations. Dren and Kaelen were deep in conversation, their voices a low rumble of politics and trade, Lira shifted in me when Kaelen's gaze suddenly landed on me.

"Luna Queen Zeva," Kaelen said, his voice a low resonant baritone that vibrated in the cavernous space, making me look up.

"Yes?" I replied. I quickly glanced over at Dren who was meticulously fixated on is food, his jaw clenched.

"May I ask if you're alright?"

"Yes, I am. Is there a problem?"

"No," He shook his head. "It's just that you have been oddly quiet," his amber eyes held a flicker of something I couldn't quite place.

"I don't have much to offer in the conversation," I admitted. "You both seem to be doing just fine,"

He chuckled, a surprisingly warm sound that seemed out of place in the tense atmosphere. "Oh please, Luna. It's your Kingdom and realm as well. Do feel free to share your opinions."

I glanced over at Dren, who was now staring at me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. His eyes, usually so commanding, held a subtle, almost imperceptible glint of something that might have been suspicion.

'If we were to hear out our own opinion. Both men will end up in a blood bath,' Lira said, making me bite my lower lip to prevent myself from giggling. 'However,' she continued. 'Kaelen doesn't seem so bad, so let's just drop it.'

Lira was right. Kaelen doesn't seem so bad, it's best not to air out my suspicion and wait.

"Thank you Alpha Kaelen. But no," I wiped my mouth with a napkin and stood up. "I'll be leaving. Do have a pleasant stay."

With a slight bow of his head, he replied. "Of course Luna. Thank you."

I smiled then turned to Dren. "I'll be waiting for you."

I heard Kaelen snicker as I turned away, my maids trailing behind me. As we passed the hallway, I noticed a silhouette moving down the adjacent corridor. I paused, my eyes darting all over.

"Luna?" One of my maids voiced out. "Is something wrong?"

"No," I said as I didn't see anything. "I'm alright. Let's go." Though, despite the fact I could be mistaken by what I saw, the unease I felt earlier today had just ratcheted up to a whole new level.

When we got to my chambers, the weight of unease still pressed down heavily on me. My maids wasted no time in preparing, they drew a bath, while some cleaned the room. I sank into the comfort of the bath, trying to wash away the lingering tension, but my mind refused to settle despite the warm bath.

An hour later, a heavy knocked followed by a sharp voice of a guard. "Luna Zeva, Alpha Dren is here."

"Come in."

The door was opened and Dren was wheeled inside, his usually sharp features softened by alcohol, making his eyes cloudy. Two bulky guards carefully lifted him from his chair, placing him on the center of my bed. With practiced efficiency, they extinguished most of the candles, leaving only a few strategically placed to cast long, dancing shadows, then exited, the heavy doors thudding shut behind them.

"You're drunk," I said flatly.

He hissed. "Don't lecture me, Zeva. Are we doing this or not?"

"It's funny how you act as if you're in charge yet I do all the work," a dry chuckle escaped me.

He chuckled back and held my hand, yanking me foward. I landed on top of him, straddling his waist, the scent of expensive wine enveloping me. He grinned as I leaned foward. "Mocking me?"

I shook my head, biting down a laughter that threatened to bubble up. "No, not really."

He suddenly frowned, his eyes usually so cold, now held a strange unreadable depth. He slowly pushed himself up, leaning against the pillows, his gaze fixed on me.

"What is it?" I asked, a silver of unease rising.

"I'm sorry, Zeva."

"Hm? What for?"

His apology was so rare it felt alien. He reached out, his hand gently raking through my hair, a gesture of almost tenderness I hadn't felt from him in years ever since the lost of our cub. I leaned in, making the gesture easier.

"I've never been a good husband," he says, his voice cracking a little. "Neither was I there for you when our son died."

I smiled and shook my head, trying to hold the tears back. "You're super drunk."

"I am," his eyes then darkened. "Zeva... Could you ever forgive me?"

Before I could speak, his other hand shot out and stroke the side of my neck. My world titled, a dizzying spiral into darkness. A gasp was ripped from my lungs as I dropped heavily onto his body, weak and emotionless. As my eyes dimmed, fading into oblivion. I heard his last words, distorted.

"I hope one day you can forgive me for this bargain."​