Chapter 5 The Banquet of Fates
The letter’s words still echoed in Aria’s mind as she stared at the sealed goblet before her mirror.
“The King arrives tonight. Don’t drink the wine.”
She had burned the note hours ago, but the warning refused to die. It threaded through her thoughts like smoke, curling around every breath she took.
The King.
The wine.
Fate.
It felt like everything she had survived, every whisper, every poison, every wound, had been leading to this night. The moment the story she thought she knew would finally shift its course.
And she was done being the doomed daughter in someone else’s tale.
Tonight, she would write her own chapter, even if it burned her alive.
---
Aria stood in front of her mirror, while her maids worked on her silks and jewelry. This time, she allowed them. Her dress was a deep shade of midnight blue, threaded with silver embroidery that sparkled in the light as she moved. It hugged her frail frame yet made her look almost ethereal.
“Perfect,” whispered one maid.
Aria stared at her reflection. For years, she stayed in the dark and quiet. But tonight… Tonight she would enter into the light. Not fully, not yet. Just enough to remind herself that she was alive.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked down into the glow of the banquet hall.
---
People cheered in the main hall. Long tables were filled with roasted meats, fruits that sparkled like gems, and goblets of excellent wine. Warriors bragged about the people they had killed, aristocrats muttered plans under jeweled fans, and music thrummed from stringed instruments in the corner.
For a fleeting moment, Aria felt her lips curve into a genuine smile.
“Princess Aria,” a voice greeted. She turned to find Beta Aldric, her father’s second-in-command, bowing nicely. His grey eyes softened with respect. “It’s nice to see you here.”
“It’s good to be here,” she replied, surprising even herself with the warmth in her tone.
He led her toward the tables, where other noble daughters eyed her curiously. Some with pity, others with quiet envy. But Aria didn’t pay attention to them. Tonight, she allowed herself to taste honeyed wine, to laugh quietly at Aldric’s dry jokes, and to listen to tales of rogue battles.
She finally felt like she belonged after a long time.
Still, the warning clawed at the edge of her thoughts.
Don’t drink the wine.
Her fingers lingered on the goblet. The honeyed liquid shimmered, sweet and harmless in the light, just like death had once been.
She set it down untouched.
---
The music changed. A vibrant song started playing, and couples rushed onto the dance floor to dance. Aria hesitated at the edge, fingers tightening around her goblet.
“Princess?” Aldric asked, offering a hand.
She shook her head. “Not tonight. I’d rather see.”
But when the dancers twirled and laughed, she felt a stab of desire in her chest. She had always had always wanted to dance freely, without being sick or being looked at with pity.
Her eyes lifted toward the balcony. And that was when everything stopped.
---
A presence.
It rolled into the hall like thunder muffled beneath silk. Every instinct in Aria’s body went rigid, her breath catching in her throat. Her gaze was pulled upward, unwilling, desperate to the man who had just entered.
Tall, broad-shouldered, draped in black formal wear that shimmered faintly in the light. His eyes, piercing gold, sharp as molten fire, scanned the hall with the cool detachment of a predator. His aura crackled, filling the room with a weight so heavy the music itself seemed to falter.
The Lycan King.
Kael.
---
Aria’s heart slammed against her ribs. She shouldn’t recognize him. She had never seen him in this world. But her soul knew. Every part of her body screamed his name.
And then it hit.
The pull.
It was raw, savage, and undeniable. Her throat tightened, her palms went clammy. She could feel his scent even from across the hall, a wild storm laced with cedar and smoke. It wrapped around her, suffocating and intoxicating all at once.
Kael’s head turned.
His golden eyes locked with hers.
The bond flared like lightning.
Aria gasped softly, her fingers tightening around her goblet until it nearly cracked. Her chest felt hot and her veins felt like they were on fire. She could feel him, every heartbeat, every ounce of power, as if it thrummed beneath her own skin.
Kael’s expression shifted for the first time. Shock. Recognition. And then hunger, barely leashed, dangerous, primal.
The hall melted away. There was only him. Only her.
---
Kael descended the stairs slowly, each step deliberate, as though he was fighting an invisible force dragging him toward her. Nobles parted instinctively, bowing, murmuring his title, yet his gaze never wavered.
Aria’s breath hitched. Her legs screamed to run, her soul screamed to stay.
When he finally stopped before her, the air crackled so thickly that even the oblivious could feel it.
“Your Highness,” Aldric said stiffly, bowing low. “It is an honor...”
Kael ignored him completely. His eyes burned into Aria’s, searching, questioning, demanding.
“You,” he said, his voice low, resonant, carrying like thunder across stone.
The world froze.
Aria swallowed, forcing composure onto her trembling lips. “Me?” she whispered, feigning ignorance even as her soul screamed mate.
Kael’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as though restraining himself. “Yes. You.”
The bond tugged harder, nearly unbearable now. Aria’s knees threatened to buckle, but she forced herself to stand tall, to meet his stare.
Not yet. She couldn’t yield yet.
But when his hand brushed hers, barely, just a fleeting graze as though the universe itself had orchestrated it, her breath shattered. Sparks shot through her veins, wild and all consuming.
For the first time ever, Aria felt like she was alive.
---
As a servant walked between them with a tray of wine-filled goblets, laughing echoed through the hall again. One of them shone a little too darkly in the torchlight.
Kael’s hand lifted toward it.
Aria blinked, and the warning in her mind blazed like fire.
Don’t drink the wine.
Her vision swam. The scent, that same sweet, poisonous floral, brushed against her senses. Her pulse spiked.
As Kael’s fingers closed around the stem, Aria’s balance wavered.
It was only a stumble, a delicate misstep of a frail, sickly girl, but it was enough.
Her shoulder brushed his arm, the goblet slipping from his grasp, spinning through the air in a burst of scarlet liquid before it shattered on the marble floor.
Gasps filled the hall. The music faltered.
Kael caught her instinctively, one strong hand around her waist to steady her. Their faces were inches apart, close enough for her to feel his breath.
“I…” she whispered faintly, eyes wide, pretending to be dazed. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty… I… lost my footing.”
He stared at her for a long, unreadable moment, his hand still on her waist, his gaze flicking to the spilled wine staining the floor like blood.
Then, finally, he released her, his expression unreadable.
“No harm done,” he said softly. But his voice carried a weight that made the room hold its breath.
---
And though no one noticed it, a single droplet of that fallen wine hissed faintly where it met the torch’s flame, curling into a wisp of violet smoke before vanishing.
Aria steadied herself, her heart pounding as the King turned away.
She’d saved his life without anyone realizing it.
And the story had shifted again, this time, in silence.
