18: Set up

Natasha’s POV

Everything looked perfect on the outside. The lights. The glitter. The clinking of wine glasses. The soft music from the corner of the hall floated lazily around the chandeliers. Every flower was placed exactly where it should be. Every ribbon matched. Every smile was wide enough to pass.

But something felt wrong.

I stood in the middle of it all, dressed in silk I couldn’t afford in my past life, hair pinned like a crown I hadn’t earned, face painted to look like I belonged. And yet… I didn’t.

People walked past me, murmuring their greetings. Their bows were shallow. Their eyes were quick to turn away. Their lips didn’t quite match the shape of their words. Even the compliments felt too polished, like glass held too tightly in the hand, waiting to cut.

I smiled too. Because what else could I do?

I kept turning my head, hoping to find Lucien’s eyes in the crowd, but he wasn’t there. Not anymore. I saw him when the party first started. He stood by the stairway, tall and quiet beside Elder Damar. I caught his gaze once and something moved between us, but then he was gone. Someone whispered something to him and he nodded and walked out through the west exit, leaving me in a room full of people who’d rather see me stumble.

And that’s when it started.

A shift.

A strange pull in my ears.

It was low at first, like wind between stone walls. But it wasn’t wind. It was words. Voices. Murmurs.

“She doesn’t even know how to sit properly.”

“What do you expect? She was raised among filth.”

“I don’t know what the King is thinking.”

“It’s disgraceful.”

I turned sharply, scanning the faces around me. But no one was looking directly at me. They smiled and nodded and drank their wine. Yet the words kept coming. Not loud. Not from mouths I could point to. But I heard them. Clear. Sharp. As if someone had leaned in and whispered straight into my ears.

“Do you think he actually wants her?”

“Of course not. He’s just using her.”

“She won’t last the year.”

I pressed my palm against the wall behind me, steadying myself. The voices weren’t in my head. They weren’t imagined. I heard them.

My wolf did.

It had been quiet for so long. Since I came here, she barely stirred. No words. No presence. I thought she was just tired. Or scared. Or angry. But now she was awake. And listening. And the more I stood there, the clearer the whispers became.

I scanned the crowd again, slower this time. There were too many eyes. Too many smiles that didn’t hold any warmth. Too many greetings that came with a warning stitched into the corners.

Lucien wasn’t in the hall.

Only his Beta stood by the doors now, engaged in conversation with someone I didn’t recognise. He wasn’t watching me. He wasn’t alert. He probably didn’t even know where Lucien had gone.

Or maybe he did.

My chest tightened.

I moved away from the centre, step by step, careful not to draw too much attention. I stopped by a table, pretended to adjust a napkin, and smiled at a passing couple. My ears were still ringing.

“I heard Elder Hadrek isn’t pleased.”

“He’s furious.”

“He wanted someone else for the King. Someone noble.”

“He’s not the only one.”

I didn’t know who exactly was Elder Hadrek but I soon caught a pair of eyes with fire in them. The owner was sitting at the long high table on the left side of the hall. His expression was calm, too calm. But his eyes…

His eyes burned.

He was staring straight at me. And when our eyes locked, something passed between us that made my stomach twist. There was no smile on his face. No flicker of tolerance. Just fire and thick hatred. The kind that simmered under a calm face, waiting for the perfect moment to spill.

I looked away, but it was too late.

He had seen the fear in my face.

And he smiled.

Not a wide smile. Not even a full one. Just a small twitch of his lips, like he already knew how the rest of this night would end.

I stepped back again. My hand gripped the edge of the tablecloth, my breath shaky. My wolf was pacing now, whispering warnings I didn’t know how to answer.

“This could be a set-up, we need to leave—“