Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
“Last chance,” he whispers.
The words curl against my throat like smoke, hot and heavy. His breath is whiskey–sharp, the heat of it sinking beneath my skin until it feels like a brand.
I swallow, hard. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. The room isn’t spinning anymore–it’s swaying, like the entire hall is breathing with us.
“I–uh…” My voice cracks, useless.
Another waiter slips between couples, a silver tray of tequila balanced like a lifeline. Alaric doesn’t look away from me when he snags a shot without asking. He presses the glass into my palm, his fingers closing over mine until I can feel every ridge of his calluses.
“Drink p>
It’s not a request.
With shaking hands, I take the shotglass and down it. The tequila burns down my throat, liquid fire. I barely catch my breath before he takes the empty glass from me and sets it on the passing tray. His other hand slides lower on my back, thumb teasing the seam of the dress.
This fucker.
The orchestra softens, as if it heard him, strings dipping into something slow and sinful. We move with it, a lazy sway that forces me closer until I’m breathing in cedar smoke and winter forest and something distinctly him.
He brings another shot to my lips. “Truth tastes better with a chaser,” he says.
“Pretty sure that’s not how truth works.” My words come out slurred, but the sarcasm lands.
His mouth tilts into the ghost of a grin. “It does with me p>
I roll my eyes. Or try to with how much the entire world is rolling in front of me. I suck in a breath and stare into those gorgeous red eyes. They really look like that of a monster. “Now answer my question.” He commands.
The tequila keeps me warm enough to forget sense. My tongue moves before my head can stop it. “You know…he was this stupid man once. Powerful as hell but absolutely annoying as shit p>
Alaric’s brows lift, eyes sharp despite the lazy sway of our bodies onto the now slow prom music. “Annoying p>
“He wouldn’t stop showing up at every party I hosted at my old pack” I huff a laugh. “Always asking me to dance. He knows exactly I could not say no. Not when everyone shook in fear when he walked in. He was-” | wave my free hand, nearly smacking his shoulder. Goddess, the tequila is doing its job. “-obnoxiously handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you want to punch something p>
He chuckles, low and rough. Geez, even he laughs handsomely. Stupid, gorgeous–looking asshole. “Sounds unbearable.” he mutters.
“Goddess, he was. Dark hair, eyes that looked like they’d strip you bare and set you on fire.” I meet his gaze as he feel the words catch between us. “He scared the living shit out of me… and-“I look away as I could feel the crimson tint rush up my face. “And?” he asks, continuing my sentence. I grin and turn to look at him. “I–I liked it.” I smile. Ugh, I can’t control what I’m saying anymore. What the hell is coming out of my mouth? The grin on his lips widens, “You liked it?” His hand slowly lowers down the curve of my waist and behind.” How naughty.” He murmurs and a chuckle spread down my face as I remember him, every bits of him, even in the last encounter we had back then.
When he told me he’d do anything to get me out.
I shake my head, dizzy as the grin fades. “I regret not choosing him.” My fingers find the warm column of his neck without permission, tracing the edge of his jaw. A lump forms in my throat as I remember how
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desperately he clinged on me even with the bars between us. “It would’ve saved me a lot of pain p>
His chest rumbles beneath my palm. “You are stalling far too long now,” He whispers into my ear. I can smell his desperation and hunger to know the truth. I can almost taste it.
“What’s his name?” The question is velvet–soft, dangerous.
My lips part. “His name is p>
“Listen well! All of you p>
A sudden roar from the crowd slices the moment in half. Gasps, cheers, the clatter of glasses.
Light floods the hall from the massive circular skylight overhead. The full moon hangs there, bright and cold, spilling silver across polished marble.
The old priestess steps into the center of the floor, her voice carrying over the sudden hush. “The ritual begins now. The King will now receive the blessing of the Goddess p>
The spell of however many shots I had breaks. Reality slams back, hard.
Shit.
I jerk away, almost stumbling as I pull my hand from his neck. My head bows automatically, instinct from years of protocol I swore I’d buried. “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” I mutter, words clipped and too fast. “I— overstepped p>
Alaric doesn’t move. His gaze pins me like a spear, unreadable and scorching. I still haven’t given him a name. His name.
The priestess continues, each syllable echoing off the vaulted ceiling. “Tonight, the moon chooses. From the crowd, the Goddess will shine upon the woman fated to share the King’s night and carry the blessing of our next heir p>
A ripple of murmurs rolls through the guests–curious, skeptical. Someone near the back scoffs, “Same old tradition. Nothing ever happens p>
I spin, catching three Omegas in black uniforms whispering behind a pillar. “Keep your mouths shut,” I snap, the authority in my voice startling even me. “Do your jobs or pay for it later p>
They blanch and scatter, trays clinking as they hurry back to their stations.
The moonlight pools across the marble, creeping toward the center where the priestess waits. My heart pounds in my ears.
I keep my eyes down, but I can feel him watching.
Alaric Hayes–Alpha King, the man who tormented me yet desired me so disgustingly–so powerfully, the man I just nearly confessed everything to–stands so close the heat of him ghosts across my bare shoulders.
And I know, without looking, that he isn’t finished.
The sound in the hall dies the second the first bell tolls. A hush ripples through the crowd of masked wolves, every pair of eyes swinging to the raised platform in the center of the cathedral–sized chamber.
Alaric steps forward alone.
The carved stone stage rises higher than a man’s shoulders, its sides etched with centuries of battles and coronations, wolves locked in immortal fights, the grooves blackened with age. A single circular window–cut into the vaulted ceiling with almost mathematical precision–waits above him.
The moon slips out from behind a bank of clouds.
Silver light spears through the glass and lands on him. Only him.
It spills over his shoulders and down the lines of his black ceremonial coat, turning the silver embroidery into molten metal. The crown on his head glints like it’s alive. For a heartbeat, he’s nothing but sharp edges and glow, and everyone in the room inhales at once.
My throat dries.
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Gods, he looks like he was born for this. And maybe he was.
I force myself to step back, fading into the sea of bodies. Masks of bone and velvet shift as people crane their necks to see better. The scent of old incense and candle smoke mixes with the musk of fur and sweat. Someone brushes my arm. I move to apologize-
A sharp grunt stops me.
I turn and meet a pair of icy blue eyes.
Camila.
Her mask is a delicate silver lace, but her glare is all steel. “Careful,” she says, voice soft enough that only I can hear. “You’re in my spot p>
“Didn’t see your name on it,” I answer, equally low. My pulse kicks, but I keep my tone flat.
She steps closer until our shoulders almost touch. “Whatever fantasy you’ve built in your head about the King…” Her mouth tilts in a cruel smile. “Tonight the Goddess will remind you where he belongs p>
“Is that so?” I shift just enough to face her. “And how exactly is the Goddess planning to do that p>
Camila’s smile widens. “Watch and learn, little Omega p>
I don’t feel so good about that smile.
The priestess climbs the platform stairs, robes whispering across the stone. Her voice cuts through the hall- ancient words, all rolling vowels and sharp edges. Latin, old as the packs themselves. The sound vibrates in my bones, a hum that makes the hair on my arms rise.
I glance sideways at Camila. “How’s the Goddess going to show everyone Alaric’sj-” I catch myself. “The King‘ s face p>
Her laugh is a soft, nasty thing. “Just because you danced with him once, you think you can be casual with his name? Bold p>
“Answer the question p>
“You’ll see.” She leans in until her breath skims my ear. “And when you do, you’ll watch your life bleed into my
hands p>
My jaw tightens. There’s something in her voice–certainty. Like she knows a secret I don’t.
A new vibration rolls through the floor, low and relentless, like the heartbeat of the earth. The priestess’s chant builds. Her words sharpen, the rhythm fast and fevered.
Alaric kneels.
Head bowed, crown gleaming, body angled directly toward us. Moonlight spills down his back, silvering the black of his hair.
The priestess throws her arms wide with latin murmurs.
And I just perhaps saw the best thing I have ever seen in my life. The power of the Goddess
Holy shit.
Gasps break from the crowd.
Her eyes are white. Not pale–white. Blank.
Whispers race through the hall. “It’s never happened-” “The Goddess-” “Impossible p>
The priestess turns, those colorless eyes sweeping the assembly. People shrink back, masks tilting in fear. Her hand lifts, trembling but sure, and begins to point.
Every breath in the room stops. She’s choosing who the King is spending the night with.
The finger swings toward our section.
I feel Camila straighten beside me, a quiet victorious sigh slipping past her lips. Of course everyone expects it -perfect Luna Camila, groomed for this moment.
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The hand keeps moving.
And stops. No fucking… way.
It’s not on her.
But on me.
The air leaves my lungs in a single violent rush.
The crowd erupts–startled cries, frantic murmurs, chairs scraping stone. Someone hisses, “Who is she?” Another voice, “That’s not possible p>
Across the chamber, Beta Cole’s eyes find mine. Wide. Unmistakable recognition.
Then the moon shifts.
A second shaft of silver light breaks through the clouds and lands on me.
It’s blinding–hot and cold at once, soaking into my skin until I feel it in my bones. My breath stutters. The noise of the crowd blurs to a dull roar.
Alaric lifts his head.
Amber–gold eyes, glowing like molten metal, lock on mine. The red is looking like lava underneath the gorgeous light.
The world stops.
Every sound drops away.
The priestess speaks, her voice a rasp and a command all at once. “The Goddess has chosen p>
My heart slams against my ribs. “What the hell…” The words barely leave my mouth.
Camila stiffens beside me, nails biting into my arm before she yanks her hand back like I burned her. “N–no… this can’t be. ” She murmurs looking once more at the moonlight onto me like a spotlight.
Alaric rises slowly, the light following him as if it answers to him alone.
His gaze doesn’t waver.
Not from me.
The priestess’s voice booms through the chamber, echoing off the stone. “Behold, the women the Goddess chose for the Lycan King p>
A single sharp inhale. Mine.
The crowd explodes. ‘She will prove herself worthy and bear an heir, and if she doesn’t, there is only one answer. She is not Hls Majesty’s mate p>
I can’t move. Can’t breathe. The moonlight burns against my skin like a brand. Bear what? Bear whose heir? When did I agree to that?
Alaric takes one step forward. Then another as he mouths. “I’ll finally know who you are p>
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He’s heading straight toward me.
Is he really gonna finally see me?
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