Chapter 10: Whispers
The morning light spilled through tall windows, diffused by lace curtains embroidered with cresting wolves and delicate moons. The air in the dressing chamber buzzed with tension—quiet, taut like a thread about to snap. Tailors and seamstresses fluttered around Nyrielle like nervous birds, adjusting hems, smoothing silk, pinning fabric.
The dress was nearly complete.
It shimmered in shades of pale ivory with a faint iridescence that shifted like moonlight on water. The bodice, structured and elegant, was adorned with intricate silver embroidery that mimicked thorned vines wrapping around her waist and curling up to her collarbones. Tiny stones—clear as frost—were nestled in the threads like captured dew. A high neck added severity, offset by long, sheer sleeves that fell like mist to her wrists. The skirt flowed in cascading layers, the outermost sheer and trailing, edged with wolves howling into curling winds. It was the kind of gown that was made to be both armor and cage.
"Hold still, my lady," one of the seamstresses whispered, tucking a final stitch near her shoulder.
Nyrielle didn't respond. She simply watched her reflection.
She looked like a bride.
But she felt like a blade being polished for display.
From the open windows came the sound of laughter—deep, rolling, unabashedly free. She turned her head slightly. Down in the training fields below, wolves ran. Some were in human form, sparring bare-chested in the dirt, muscles slick with sweat and pride. Others darted through the trees in wolf form, lean bodies streaking between trunks, jaws open with playful growls. There was a wildness to it all, something raw and unshackled.
Something she had never known.
A quiet ache settled in her chest. It wasn't envy. Not exactly. It was... a distant longing. Like something she might have wanted once, before the world taught her to shrink.
"Must be strange," one of the younger tailors murmured, unaware she was still being overheard. "A wolfless bride in the heart of the packs. What does she even bring to the bond?"
A soft scoff followed. "Not even a spark of aura. And yet here she is—dressed like the queen of the pack."
"They say the Alpha chose her for politics. Something about keeping Kael on a leash."
Nyrielle didn't flinch. She had heard worse, and from nobler mouths.
"Poor Kael," the first one added, voice full of faux pity. "Imagine being bound to something so... empty."
The other chuckled darkly. "He'll break her before the moon's turn. Or worse—ignore her entirely."
A sharp flick of fabric silenced them—an older seamstress swatted the back of one's hand, eyes darting toward Nyrielle.
But it was too late.
The silence that followed was thicker than the veil trailing down her back.
Nyrielle turned her head slightly, just enough for them to see her eyes in the mirror.
Steel. Like ice. Perfectly still.
The tailors quickly bowed their heads and busied their hands.
She said nothing. She was used to whispers.
Renna burst in moments later, breathless and full of motion, carrying a box of ribboned shoes and hairpins that sparkled like stars. "Sorry I'm late! Half the western wolves are tearing up the fields like it's a mating run. Took me forever to get past them."
Nyrielle arched a brow. "Did you enjoy the view?"
Renna grinned unapologetically, her eyes dancing. "Well, one of them shifted mid-fight and I think I saw the moon rise twice. I regret nothing."
"Did they hurt you?" she asked softly.
Nyrielle shook her head, though her face remained turned to the window, watching the wind play with the edge of the courtyard trees.
Renna stepped behind her, careful hands adjusting the shoulder of the gown. "Little wolves, all bark and no bite. They think cruelty makes them clever."
"They're not wrong, though," Nyrielle said after a moment, her voice almost a whisper. "This dress... the wedding... it's all for show. No one wants me there. Not even him."
Renna stilled, then touched her hair, smoothing it back gently like she had when Nyrielle was a child. "That's not true."
That earned a faint laugh, one Nyrielle hadn't expected. Renna's presence was a balm, light and grounding.
"You're going to look divine," Renna said, stepping behind her to adjust the sheer veil that had been pinned to her braid. "Honestly, if Kael doesn't drop dead on sight, then he's as cold as everyone says."
Nyrielle looked down at her hands, curled lightly in her lap. Pale. Steady. "They say Kael is ruthless. That he hasn't smiled in years."
"They say a lot of things," Renna said gently. "And some of them are true. But I know this — he takes care of his own. And starting tomorrow, that includes you."
Nyrielle didn't reply. She kept her eyes on the window.
There was a pause, filled with the sound of the wolves outside, and then Nyrielle broke it with a hesitant tone.
"Eryx... he said I could take you with me."
Renna's hands stilled on the trunk. Her eyes widened slightly before a cautious warmth entered them.
"Truly?" she breathed, voice soft as silk unraveling. "He gave his word?"
Nyrielle nodded. "He did."
Renna's lips trembled just slightly—whether from relief or the sudden flood of emotion, Nyrielle couldn't tell. She quickly masked it with a teasing smirk. "Well then, I suppose I'll have to learn to curtsey to the moon prince."
Nyrielle laughed—really laughed this time, a short breath of real amusement.
"You're impossible," she said.
Renna shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe I'll find my mate there."
Nyrielle raised a brow. "And you say that like it's a bad thing."
Renna wrinkled her nose. "Being tied to one person for the rest of eternity? I'm not sure I'm built for that. The Moon Goddess would probably agree."
Nyrielle leaned against the window frame and studied her friend. "You're the strangest she-wolf I know. Every girl I've met dreams of their fated mate—of the bond, the fire, the magic... and you're just over here shrugging like it's a burden."
Renna smirked again but her tone softened. "Dreams are easy, Nyri. Real love… real bonds... they're messy. Hard. They hurt sometimes. But I'll still go with you. I'll see it all for myself."
Nyrielle turned away from the window and reached over, brushing a loose strand of hair from Renna's face. "Thank you. For everything. If you weren't here... I don't know how I would have managed any of this."
Renna didn't pull away. She simply covered Nyrielle's hand with hers. "You'll never have to find out. I'll be right there beside you."
The flickering candlelight made their shadows dance along the walls—two girls on the brink of something vast and unknown, holding onto the last embers of something innocent and familiar.
After a beat, Renna clapped her hands gently. "Alright, off with you. You've got a wedding to dread tomorrow. Best to get some sleep before the Queen Consort drags you out of bed with all her blasted etiquette scrolls."
Nyrielle rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."
Renna offered her a lopsided smile. "Everything's packed. Your silks, your brushes, that ridiculous book of Kael's customs your mother left for you. I even added extra moon balm in case your skin acts up from the travel. You'll shine, Nyri. You always do."
Nyrielle exhaled quietly and gave a nod. "Goodnight, Renna."
"Goodnight, my lady," Renna replied, her voice light and teasing again. "May the Moon smile on your chaos tomorrow."
As Nyrielle slipped out of the room, her fingers grazing the cool stone of the corridor, she let herself hope—for just a moment—that maybe all of this, this tangled path of duty and sacrifice, might still carry her somewhere worth calling home.