THE PRESENTATION.
Vivienne's POV
I stirred slowly, drifting between foggy thoughts and the unfamiliar scent of jasmine and myrrh. Softness cradled me—pillows, maybe or a bed. Nothing like the cold stone and filth I'd grown used to.
For one blissful second, I thought I was home.
That somehow, I had escaped then I opened my eyes.
Golden candlelight flickered from a chandelier, marble columns and silk-covered walls. The room looked like it belonged to royalty—opulent, warm, and too quiet.
I sat up sharply. The heavy sheets pooled around my waist, and pain jolted through my muscles but not as much as I expected. I looked down.
My bruises were gone.
The wounds I'd carried from the pit, the chains, the fights… vanished. My skin was smooth and unmarked except for the runes.
As usual, they glowed softly, pulsing faintly on my hands and legs in the candlelight like they were breathing, like they were alive.
A sharp inhale snapped my attention to the door.
I turned to find a group of women standing near the chamber's entrance. They were dressed in dull colored robes, their eyes were wide, fixed on me with awe and apprehension.
"She's awake," one of them whispered.
Another took a step forward. "The markings… I've never seen anything like them."
My stomach twisted. I had spent years hiding those runes, keeping them buried beneath sleeves and fear. Now I was a spectacle.
I clenched the sheets tighter around me, forcing my voice steady. "Where am I?"
They exchanged glances. Then the tallest woman stepped forward. Her face was lined with age and caution, her voice calm.
"You're in Lord Balthazar's estate."
The name made my chest tighten. I'd never heard it before, but dread bloomed instinctively.
"Why am I here?" My voice sharpened.
The older woman hesitated. "You were delivered… by Lord Vance."
A colder kind of fear slid down my spine.
Vance. The one who shot me with Moonsbane. The one who laughed while I collapsed.
"I don't belong here," I said. "And I don't belong to anyone."
A younger girl, maybe my age, stepped forward. "You're safe," she said softly. "Lord Balthazar—"
"Who is Lord Balthazar?" I cut in.
Silence.
"He is the one who will decide your future," the older woman finally said.
"So, I'm a prisoner," I replied coldly.
"No," she said quickly. "You are… a guest. A special one."
I nearly laughed. "Special" had never meant anything good in my life.
Another servant stepped forward. "Please. We've been instructed to prepare you to meet him."
Every instinct told me to run, to fight but there was nowhere to run—not yet.
So I nodded. "Fine."
They led me into an adjoining room. A golden bathtub steamed in the center, the water scented heavily with oil and flowers I didn't recognize. My skin prickled. Every part of me was alert.
As they reached to undress me, I froze. "I can do it myself."
The older woman spoke gently. "It's tradition. Honored guests are bathed and dressed before seeing the lord."
Honored guests?
I bit down on my retort and let them continue.
They lowered me into the warm water, their hands surprisingly gentle. The bath soothed my muscles, but my mind remained razor-sharp.
"She's beautiful," one whispered behind me.
"Her eyes… they're like stars."
"I've never seen a woman with silver hair."
I didn't respond. It was easier to pretend not to hear.
After the bath, they dried me carefully, brushing my hair and tracing the runes with curious fingers.
"They glow…" one breathed.
They dressed me in a simple black velvet gown. Elegant. Modest. A single silver cuff clicked around my wrist.
A suppressant and a claim.
I hated it.
When they were finished, the older woman stepped back, nodding once.
"You're ready."
I didn't feel ready but I followed them anyway.
The corridor was long and cold, despite its gold-draped walls. My bare feet padded softly over polished marble. Incense lingered in the air—sweet and cloying.
We stopped at a set of tall double doors, flanked by guards in matching armor. They didn't meet my eyes.
The doors creaked open.
Candlelight bathed the chamber beyond. Rich velvet curtains, obsidian floors, gold in every direction and at the center—stood a man.
Balthazar.
He was not what I expected.
Middle-aged, hair slicked back, shiny with oil. Skin pale and tight, stretched too thin over sharp bones and deep creases framed his mouth and eyes—like they'd settled into frowns long ago.
He wore a long purple robe embroidered in gold with rings on every finger. A red gem hung at his throat, pulsing faintly with each breath but what unsettled me most was the way he moved.
Jittery. Twitching. He mumbled under his breath, lips moving constantly as if in conversation with someone only he could hear.
Then suddenly, he spread his arms and let out a high, shrill laugh.
"Oh yes! This is the one!" he sang. "A silver wolf! Rune-marked and perfect! Mine!"
I stepped back.
He approached—robes rustling, his perfume choking the air. Musky and sweaty. His head cocked sharply to one side. His neck cracked.
He stopped inches away.
"So rare," he murmured, eyes scanning me greedily. "So powerful. I heard what you did. You fought and killed."
Then his hand shot out, grabbing my chin.
I flinched, fury flashing through me.
"Show me," he whispered, fingers like iron. "What you are."
I yanked my face free. "Don't touch me."
For a second, he was still.
Then he burst into laughter again. Loud and strange. He clutched his belly like I'd told the world's funniest joke.
Then—silence.
He straightened slowly, smoothing his robe. His face slackened, eyes dark.
"Turn," he said.
I didn't move.
"Turn," he repeated, sharper.
Still.
His face twitched. Fingers curled into fists.
Then he spun and slammed a goblet off a nearby table. Wine spilled across the floor like blood.
"She's pretending!" he shouted. "She's not what she says she is! She lies!"
He turned to the guards. His eyes gleamed with twisted glee.
"Take her to the dungeons."
"No—!"
Two guards grabbed me. I struggled, kicked, but they held fast.
"Oh yes," Balthazar chuckled. "We'll break you down, My little wolf. Break you into something useful."
His laughter echoed down the hallway as they dragged me away.
The silk and gold faded behind me and the nightmare truly began.