Lilienne
After my last unpleasant encounter with Kaelen, I didn't see him again until it was time to welcome the guests arriving at the palace for the Lunaris celebration.
Tradition dictates that the kingdom's monarchs greet foreign delegations together—the only exception being when one of them is dead. And that, I suppose, is the sole reason I'm now standing at the grand entrance of the guest palace, a carefully crafted smile fixed on my lips while Kaelen stands beside me, his posture stiff and his own smile even more forced than mine.
At least he had the good sense not to bring his mistress here today, I think with a quiet sigh of relief.
"The place looks nice," Kaelen says suddenly, stepping a little closer. "You did a good job preparing it for our guests."
He's trying to sound sincere, but it grates on me. I didn't just prepare this palace for our visitors—I orchestrated the entire Lunaris celebration nearly single-handedly. All he did was sign off on a few funding approvals.
But of course, Kaelen doesn't see that. He never truly saw anything.
I say nothing in response, and a tense silence falls between us again. He clears his throat awkwardly, swallowing his own irritation. "Are you excited?" he tries again. "The Dark Moon delegation is arriving. I heard they only accepted the invitation because it was written by you."
What?
I finally turn to face him, surprise flashing across my features. My eyes widen. I did receive a formal acceptance from Dark Moon a few days ago, but no one told me the reason behind their sudden change of heart.
Because of me?
"How do you know that?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Kaelen smirks, and it's the kind of arrogant smirk that makes my palms itch to slap it right off his face. "They sent their future Alpha."
Future Alpha?
The words echo in my mind, but before I can speak them aloud, the grand doors of the guest palace swing open, letting in a gust of crisp morning air. The temperature drops ever so slightly, brushing against my skin like a warning—and then I see him.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Powerful.
He strides into the hall like he owns it, every step deliberate and weighty against the polished marble floor. There's a commanding presence about him, as if he's here to take control rather than merely attend a celebration.
Magnus North.
The future Alpha of the Dark Moon Pack.
"The royal family is pleased to welcome you to our kingdom, Alpha North," Kaelen says, his voice slicing through my stunned silence. I blink, embarrassed at how long I've been staring, momentarily enchanted by the sheer force of Magnus's presence.
"Yes," I finally manage, my voice barely above a whisper as my gaze lingers on the large hand that clasps Kaelen's in a firm handshake. "Welcome."
Ridiculous. That's what I feel. Flustered, breathless, confused. My heart races for no logical reason, my cheeks feel too warm, and a strange tension coils low in my stomach.
I don't think I've ever reacted to anyone like this before.
And it terrifies me.
Why is this man affecting me so deeply?
Magnus's deep gray eyes finally settle on me, and I feel as though I'm falling.
They aren't dark like my husband's, but there's something else within them—something quieter, more haunting. They remind me of a storm-churned sky, heavy with unshed rain. And somehow, my heart opens to the storm, welcoming it like a long-lost friend.
"It's nice to meet you, My Queen," Magnus says, his voice as deep and resonant as his gaze. He looks down at me, his features sharp yet arrestingly composed. But it's his touch that sends a cascade of electric pulses racing beneath my skin.
He takes my hand—not with a politician's practiced firmness, but with a strange, careful grace. His long fingers slide across my palm, deliberate and warm, and before I can even process what's happening, he lifts my hand to his lips.
And kisses it.
Softly. Slowly.
I don't know what's stirring inside me, but whatever it is, it's fierce and urgent, bubbling up from somewhere I thought I'd long buried. My chest tightens, breath catching. Why am I so shaken by a simple kiss on the hand?
It's not uncommon, after all. Outdated, perhaps, but still a recognized gesture of respect toward a Royal Luna. So why does this kiss feel like more? Why does it feel like a secret whispered into my skin—something intimate, something forbidden?
I wish my wolf were here. Maybe she could tell me what this is—this wild, unnameable thing cracking open inside me.
"Lily," my husband's voice cuts through the haze, sharp and grounding.
I blink, once, twice, trying to shake off the spell.
And that's when it hits me.
My hand is still in Magnus's.
Worse, it's still pressed against his lips.
"I'm sorry," I murmur, my voice soft and apologetic as I gently pull my hand from the man's grasp. Magnus grins down at me, the corners of his storm-gray eyes narrowing just slightly before he leans back and offers Kaelen a respectful nod.
"Thank you for the warm welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, my men and I would like to rest. It's been a long journey."
"Of course," Kaelen replies, stretching another fake smile across his face. But I can see the tightness in his jaw, the tension brewing beneath his composed mask. "The maids will escort you to your quarters."
Magnus throws me one last look—calm, unreadable—and strides away with the same commanding presence he arrived with. Yet, even after he's gone, something of him lingers in the air, clinging to me like an invisible veil I can't quite shake off.
"Arrogant jerk," Kaelen snaps under his breath, his brows drawn so tightly together they nearly touch. He storms off a moment later, irritation crackling in his wake.
But I barely register his words.
My thoughts are elsewhere—adrift, entangled in the storm I saw swirling in Magnus's eyes.
Without realizing it, I raise the hand he kissed closer to my face, still warm from his touch. I expect to feel that same rush of emotion again.
But instead, my eyes fly wide open, stunned.
As if some long-buried truth has suddenly surfaced.
As if a life-changing revelation has just made itself known to me.
Pine trees?