POV Kali
The royal palace was huge. The ceilings were so high I had to crane my neck back to see them, painted with stars and moons. Crystal chandeliers hung everywhere, throwing sparkles of light across shiny marble floors. Everything looked expensive and made our pack house seem small.
I felt out of place in my fancy dress and my mother's old jewelry. My smile felt fake. The ballroom was packed with hundreds of dressed-up werewolves, all here hoping to catch the King's attention.
"Impressive," Kastian murmured beside me, but his attention was already drifting toward a cluster of powerful Alphas near the wine tables.
"Yes," I agreed softly, though the overwhelming grandeur made me feel even smaller than usual.
Within minutes, Kastian abandoned me with casual indifference. "Business never rests," he said without looking at me, already moving toward those Alpha discussions. "Entertain yourself."
I watched him go, noting how easily he integrated with the other men, how his laugh rang out genuine and warm. The sight shouldn't have stung after everything, but it did.
Seeking refuge, I moved toward quieter corners where groups of women whispered behind jeweled fans. As I passed a cluster of young ladies near the refreshment tables, hushed voices caught my attention.
"—three of them now, all dead," one voice said with morbid fascination.
I slowed, pretending to examine the elaborate flower arrangements while straining to hear.
"The same mysterious illness each time," another added. "They say it starts slowly - weakness, then wasting away. By the end, their skin turns gray as ash."
My heart stopped. "Excuse me," I said, approaching the group. "I couldn't help overhearing. You're speaking of the Lycan King's... companions?"
The women turned, and I recognized Lady Aria of the Bloodmoon Pack. Her red hair caught the candlelight as she smiled with cruel delight.
"Oh yes, Luna Kali. Such tragic stories. Lady Layla was seven months along when the illness took her. And Lady Sissy before her - the healers were completely baffled."
"What kind of illness?" I pressed, ignoring the way they exchanged meaningful glances.
"No one knows," Serena continued with obvious relish. "It only affects women carrying the King's child. They waste away from the inside, like something is consuming their life force."
My blood ran cold. The symptoms she described - weakness, wasting away - I'd felt them myself over the past months. The constant fatigue I'd blamed on stress, the way clothes hung looser on my frame...
"Has anyone consulted the royal healer?" I asked desperately. "They say she's the most powerful in the kingdom."
"Healer Morwyn tried everything," another woman chimed in. "Herbs, potions, even ancient magic. Nothing worked."
The conversation continued around me, but I barely heard it. Could I be suffering from the same condition? Was that why I couldn't conceive - because my body was already fighting some unknown illness?
I excused myself and retreated toward a moonlit balcony, desperate for air that didn't taste like my own rising panic. The marble balustrade was cold against my gloved hands as I gripped it, trying to steady myself.
The full moon hung heavy above the palace gardens, and I found myself staring up at it with bitter irony. "Moon Goddess," I whispered, "if you're listening, please. I need to understand what's wrong with me. I need to find this healer."
The sound of footsteps made me tense, expecting another courtier with false sympathy. Instead, I heard someone moving quietly in the shadows behind me, seeking the same solitude I craved.
I turned just as the figure stepped closer, and we collided in the darkness. Strong hands caught my arms, steadying me before I could fall.
"I'm so sorry," I gasped, looking up but seeing only shadows in the dim moonlight.
"Kastian?" I whispered hopefully. Had my husband finally come looking for me?
But the moment our skin touched, something extraordinary happened. Fire raced up my arms from where his hands held me, spreading through my entire body like liquid lightning.
My wolf stirred for the first time in months, lifting her head with sudden alertness. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever experienced - not the gentle warmth I'd once felt with Kastian, but something wild and consuming that made my breath catch in my throat.
This wasn't my husband's touch. This was something else entirely.
"No," a deep voice said softly, rough with some unnamed emotion. "Not Kastian. Mate"
I tried to see his face, but he wore a dark cloak with the hood pulled up. All I could make out were his eyes - silver like moonlight on water, watching me with an intensity that made my heart race.
"Who—" I began, but footsteps thundered across the balcony.
"Kali!" Kastian's voice cut through the night air like a whip. "What the hell are you doing out here while I'm inside trying to secure trade agreements with the Lycan King? Are you seriously flirting with some stranger when our pack's future depends on tonight?"
He stormed onto the balcony, his face dark with fury and embarrassment. "I apologize for my wife's inappropriate behavior," he said to the cloaked figure. "She clearly doesn't understand the importance of—"
The stranger's hands were still on my arms, that electric sensation still coursing through me, when he slowly reached up with one hand and pushed back his hood.
The moonlight revealed features that made my breath stop entirely. He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen - tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair that looked almost black in the moonlight. His face was perfectly carved, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. His skin was tan like he spent time outdoors, and his lips were full and perfectly shaped.
But it was his eyes that held me - silver like moonlight on water, watching me with an intensity that made my heart race. Everything about him screamed power and royalty, from the way he held himself to the expensive clothes beneath his cloak.
Both Kastian and I gasped.
"Your Majesty," Kastian stammered, dropping into a hasty bow, his face going pale with terror.
I stared up at the Lycan King Zion himself, his hands still holding me steady, that impossible connection still singing between us.
In his silver eyes, I saw something I'd almost forgotten existed - genuine desire, protection, and the promise of being truly wanted.
"Mate," he breathed, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of destiny itself.