Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO: ROYAL DECLARATIONS

But it was too late for more questions as he swept into the Great Hall. All eyes turned to him, then to me as I followed. Everyone was already seated. Raised brows and narrowed glares from the werewolves showed their displeasure at waiting.

To hell with them.

My gaze found Silvion’s—the elven king. He stood on the minstrel balcony as yesterday—overseeing this summit like some ethereal guardian. His eyes narrowed fractionally, lips pursing at the corners, clearly displeased by our tardiness. A glance at the massive clock showed we were merely two minutes late. King Silvion cleared his throat as we took our seats, emphasising his irritation.

I glared openly up at him.

Pompous bastard.

“Careful, little brother,” came a soft snicker. “Wouldn’t want to see you turned into an ice sculpture.”

A sidelong glance revealed my brother, Prince Darius, watching me with a wicked grin. The bastard would probably enjoy seeing me clash with another royal just for entertainment. As the middle child, he’d perfected the art of causing chaos for amusement.

Everyone knew of the elf king’s mastery over ice magic. Many feared being transformed into frozen statues, suffering for centuries—unable to breathe yet kept alive, trapped in ice by his power. Whispers claimed it was torment beyond imagination. I found such fears oddly amusing, considering my command overshadow fire.

I scoffed under my breath. “Please. My shadow flames would melt him before he could lift a finger.”

Darius leaned closer, his warm breath tickling my ear, shoulder-length black hair brushing my shoulder. “Want to wager on that? Five hundred gold says you’ll be walking with icicles for ornaments within the hour.”

I flipped him off. A dark chuckle met my ears, cut short by a grunt. Princess Nyx must have elbowed him in the ribs again. I smirked. Our little sister always knew how to rein Darius in.

Movement caught my eye. I turned, and my blood began racing like wildfire. Seraphina Nightclaw entered the Great Hall. Murmurs rippled from the werewolves, but I paid them no mind. I couldn’t tear my gaze from the vision before me.

She moved with shoulders back, chin lifted with regal authority. Her lustrous auburn waves cascaded down her back like liquid copper silk. My hands ached to tangle in those silken strands. The soft silver gown hugged her waist before flaring over her hips, the bodice accentuating the tempting swell of her breasts beneath the elegant neckline.

Desire pooled molten in my core. I flexed my shadow claws—weapons of pure darkness—letting them prick my thighs to cool my building arousal. Now wasn’t the time to grow hard. Seraphina glided past the noble wolves and took her place behind her parents. Then I noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes, how her shoulders sagged once seated, as if exhaustion had drained her strength.

Concern flared in my chest. I nearly rose—ready to demand what was wrong—but stopped myself. A fae had no right to worry about his enemy’s wellbeing. I remained seated, rigid, biting my cheek until I tasted copper.

“Now that we’re all in attendance,” the elf King said, shooting a pointed look at Seraphina. She ducked her head in embarrassment, and my claws flexed with the urge to gut the bastard for making her uncomfortable. “Shall we begin?”

“I have an announcement,” King Malachar declared.

King Fenris of the werewolves scowled at my father. King Malachar met his piercing stare with cool composure. “I believe, King Fenris, you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Tension thickened to suffocating proportions between the kings. Their people exchanged dark glares, soft snarls, and bared fangs. After a pregnant pause, King Fenris said in a dangerous voice, “Get on with it.”

Growls of outrage peaked from the dark fae, but King Malachar ignored the cold command. He rose to his feet, commanding the room’s attention. All eyes riveted on the Shadow King. Then I saw his gaze flicker briefly to Seraphina Nightclaw. My veins filled with ice.

“For centuries,” King Malachar began, “our peoples have been at war, with no hope of peaceful relations.” His gaze swept over each werewolf across the Great Hall. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, nearly drowning out his words as cold realisation chilled me.

Shit, shit, shit!

“We had no reason to seek peace,” King Malachar continued, “until now.”

His earlier words echoed like a cursed prophecy in my mind.

You’ll discover it soon enough…

My mouth went dry as parchment.

Turning his gaze to Seraphina Nightclaw, King Malachar announced in a booming voice, “I hereby offer my son, Prince Lysander Malachar Shadowmere, to Seraphina Nightclaw, as her destined mate.”

The entire hall erupted into chaos. Voices howled in protest from the werewolves. Even the dark fae nobles snarled in outrage. Some werewolves shot from their seats with claws extended, while several Dark Fae rose with power crackling in their eyes.

King Silvion’s voice boomed over the mayhem. “Silence! Order in this Hall!”

I felt my body respond to the stifling dominance and bloodlust saturating the air, so thick I tasted its acrid bitterness. My gaze swung to Seraphina. Her face had gone pale, jaw slack as she stared at my father in shock. Her eyes were wide with terror—whether from the mating declaration or impending violence, I couldn’t tell. Then her gaze collided with mine and held. We stared at each other across the Great Hall, oblivious to everything else, as if we were the only souls existing in all the realm.

Then the temperature plummeted to near-freezing. The shrieks of anger faded as heads whipped about seeking the source. I blinked at the thin sheet of ice filming the walls—icicles hanging from chandeliers like crystalline daggers.

My head turned left. The frigid glare from the elf king promised death.

One by one, everyone noticed the elf king’s lethal stare and ceased their protests. The howls and snarls died under the icy weight of his gaze.

“Hear me,” King Malachar spoke when silence fell. He faced the elf king, and shock claimed me as I watched his eyes widen imploringly toward King Silvion. The elf king gave a slow nod.

“We are all listening,” King Silvion murmured. He fastened a narrow glance at King Fenris. “Aren’t we, King Fenris?”

The werewolf king’s features were mottled red, neck tendons standing in stark relief. His chest heaved with restrained fury. Claws sliced in and out as if wishing to sink into my father’s throat. Queen Celeste appeared equally enraged, upper lip peeled back to bare wicked fangs at the shadow king. Only Seraphina seemed calmer, though I suspected it was primarily shock.

I wasn’t much better. Rage blazed in my chest like an inferno.

Why did Father announce this publicly? Is he trying to start a damned war?

“King Fenris,” my father addressed his fellow monarch, chest heaving with a bracing breath. “I ask that you let me explain.”

Shock coloured the werewolf king’s face. He blinked owlishly. Queen Celeste looked at her husband.

“My King,” she hissed, “you cannot possibly consider entertaining him.”

King Fenris dropped his gaze to the floor. Queen Celeste spoke again, more urgently, when her husband raised a hand for silence. She closed her mouth with an audible snap. The silence was deafening as we awaited his decision. After an eternity, he slowly lifted his head.

“I’m willing to listen, but—” he jabbed a finger at the shadow king, “that doesn’t mean I’ll agree to anything.”

King Malachar nodded. “Duly noted.”

Addressing not only the king but all werewolves present, my father declared, “I have learned my son found his life mate in Princess Seraphina.” He spread his arms wide. “What better solution for peace than an alliance? An alliance between our children who are already fated mates.”

“You have no right to stand there spouting such madness,” Queen Celeste snarled, a low growl rumbling from her throat. Her eyes flashed amber. “How dare you claim my daughter is mated to your son!”

“Tell her,” King Malachar said to King Fenris. “You know the truth as well as I.”

Queen Celeste stilled. She slowly turned to her husband, who refused to meet her questioning gaze. “What is he speaking of?”

King Fenris swallowed hard. My eyes narrowed.

He knows… my father sensed the bond. Can the werewolf king see the thread of fate as well?

King Fenris turned to his daughter seated behind her parents. She flinched under his stare. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, mouth opening as if to speak, but no sound emerged.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the king asked, his voice a low rasp that echoed throughout the Great Hall.

Seraphina’s face grew even paler, the light dusting of freckles across her nose more pronounced. “I… I…” her voice trailed away as she slammed her eyes shut. A shudder wracked her body.

A sharp pain pierced my heart for her. Being a spectacle for all these people… the temptation to leap up, gather her in my arms, and flee was overwhelming.

King Fenris sighed heavily. Shaking his head slowly, he faced the shadow king. “I can see it.”

King Malachar gave a curt nod. Keeping his gaze on King Fenris, he said, “Won’t you tell your mate?”

The werewolf king flinched as if struck. Queen Celeste’s gaze darted between the kings.

“My King,” she said to her husband, “what is he talking about?” Panic crept over her features. “Tell me.”

Whispers began rising from both sides as shadow fae and werewolves murmured among themselves. Queen Celeste whirled on her daughter when the king remained silent. “Seraphina, what is your father not telling me?” Seraphina bowed her head. The Queen hissed, “Have you mated that fae?”

She spat fae like a curse, but I focused on the black despair shadowing Seraphina’s gaze under her mother’s heated glare.

Enough.

I rose and addressed the Queen. “She has not been touched.”

Queen Celeste spun, drilling me with her gaze, but before she could retort, I continued, “I discovered we are fated mates yesterday when the summit began.” I pinned both werewolf royals with my dark stare. “Seraphina did nothing wrong. I pursued her. I spoke to her. She told me we cannot be mates.”

Let me take the blame. Keep your filthy accusations off Seraphina.

Gasps of shock and outrage rang from my people. Beside me, my siblings stiffened. I could handle taking heat for wanting our enemy, but I’d be damned if I let Seraphina fall with me. She didn’t deserve that.

“What say you, King Fenris?” the elf king asked. All eyes turned to him.

He stared at my father with disgust and despair. Heaving a sigh, he turned to the elf king. “I request time to consider this recent… revelation.”

King Silvion looked to my father. “Do you agree?”

King Malachar nodded. “Yes. I understand.”

The elf king nodded. His voice echoed across the Great Hall as he announced, “This meeting is adjourned. We reconvene in two hours. Dismissed.”