Chapter 5

"They're challenging," she admitted, turning back to Nickolas. "The way they absorb light rather than reflect it, except for those deep red undertones that only appear in certain moonlight."

"You speak of them like old friends," Nickolas observed, his voice lowering so only she could hear. "Most see only their beauty, but you see their nature."

Something in his tone made her look up, meeting his gaze directly. For a moment, the busy dining hall seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in a pocket of quiet understanding.

"My grandmother taught me to look beyond the surface," she said softly. "Beauty without substance is just decoration."

Nickolas's eyes held hers, something appreciative and assessing in their depths. "A wise woman, your grandmother."

"The wisest," Ioannis agreed, surprised by how easy it felt to speak with him, despite the weight of expectations surrounding them. "She was our pack's historian before she passed. Said the past holds keys to our future, if we know how to read the signs."

"And do you? Know how to read the signs?" His question carried layers of meaning.

Before she could answer, her father rose at the head of the table, commanding the room's attention with his mere presence. The traditional welcome toast was about to begin.

"Friends, family, honoured guests," Alpha Holland's voice carried effortlessly through the hall. "Tonight we welcome the Storm Striders to our territory, not merely as allies, but as potential kin."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the gathered pack members. Ioannis felt heat rise to her cheeks as many eyes turned toward her and Nickolas.

"For generations, our packs have shared borders but maintained distance. Tonight marks the beginning of a new chapter." Her father raised his goblet. "To strength through unity, and wisdom in alliance."

"Strength through unity," the assembly echoed, raising their glasses.

As Ioannis sipped her wine, she caught Violeta watching her from several seats away, her calculating gaze fixed on the two of them.

“So how long will you be staying with us, Alpha?” Ioannis said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"Three weeks," Nickolas replied, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "Until the waxing moon before your Coming of Age ceremony."

Ioannis nodded, acutely aware of the significance of that timeframe. Three weeks to determine if a political alliance could become something more. Three weeks before her life might change forever.

"And your father?" she asked, genuinely curious about the current Alpha of the Storm Striders.

A shadow passed over Nickolas's features. "Still recovering. The attack from Forest Mountain did more damage than we initially believed." He paused, studying her reaction. "You haven't asked why I agreed to this arrangement."

"I assumed duty," Ioannis replied honestly. "The same reason I'm sitting here now."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that transformed his serious expression. "Partially correct. But many potential alliances would benefit the Storm Striders."

"Yet you're here," she observed.

"I am." His gaze was direct, unapologetic. "Federico spoke of you often during his time with us. I found myself... curious."

Heat bloomed across her cheeks. Before she could respond, servers appeared with dessert, delicate pastries filled with sweet mountain berries and drizzled with honey.

"Your brother mentioned you have a fondness for these," Nickolas said, watching as her eyes lit up at the sight of her favourite treat.

"Federico seems to have told you quite a lot," she noted, taking a small bite of the pastry.

"Is that a problem?"

Ioannis considered the question. "I suppose it depends on what exactly he shared."

"Nothing that would embarrass you," Nickolas assured her, though amusement danced in his eyes. "Though he did mention an incident involving a frog and Elder Marlow's ceremonial robes."

Ioannis nearly choked on her dessert. "I was eight!" she protested, then caught herself as she realised he was teasing her. "Very funny, Heir Harvey."

"Nickolas," he corrected gently. "If we're to spend the next three weeks evaluating a potential lifetime together, perhaps formality can be set aside... when appropriate."

The directness of his statement caught her off guard. Most political matches were discussed in euphemisms and diplomatic language, dancing around the central purpose. His straightforward approach was refreshing, if somewhat disconcerting.

"Nickolas," she repeated, testing the name without its title. "Then you must call me Ioannis."

"Ioannis," he said, her name sounding different in his deep voice. "I look forward to knowing the woman behind the title, the one who sees beyond beauty to find substance."

After dinner concluded, the gathering moved to the great hall where musicians played traditional pack melodies. Violeta wasted no time in approaching Nickolas, her emerald gown catching the light as she moved.

"Would you honour me with a dance, Nickolas?" Violeta asked, her voice honeyed with practised charm. "I'd love to hear more about the Storm Striders' customs."

Nickolas inclined his head politely. "Of course, Lady Violeta. Though I should warn you, I'm better suited to mountain paths than dance floors."

As they moved toward the centre of the hall, Ioannis felt an unexpected pang of something uncomfortably close to jealousy. She watched Violeta's graceful movements, the way she tilted her head to catch Nickolas's words, the subtle placement of her hand on his shoulder.

"Brooding already?" Federico appeared at her elbow, following her gaze. "The evening has barely begun."

"I'm not brooding," Ioannis replied, though her tone suggested otherwise. "I'm observing."

"Mm-hmm." Federico signalled a passing server for wine. "And what exactly are you observing?"

"That Violeta moves like she was born to dance with Alpha heirs."

"Perhaps. But notice how Nickolas keeps glancing in your direction?" Federico pointed out. "He's being polite, nothing more."

Indeed, as if summoned by Federico's words, Nickolas's gaze found hers across the dance floor. Even while maintaining a conversation with Violeta, his attention seemed divided. When the song ended, he escorted Violeta back to the edge of the floor with perfect courtesy, but his steps carried him directly toward Ioannis.

"Your turn," he said simply, extending his hand. "Unless you prefer to observe from the sidelines?"