The heavy oak doors to Thornak's office swung open without a knock. Only one person usually entered that way.
"Thornak," came the clipped, familiar voice of Queen Maravelle.
Thornak didn't look up. He was leaned over a large map on the table, brow furrowed, fingers tracing a border near the southern forest line. "If this is about the horseback riding, I've already...."
"It's about the Moonbinding Ceremony," she cut in smoothly.
He stilled. Slowly, his gaze lifted to hers.
"What ceremony?"
"You forgot?"
Thornak straightened, clearly unbothered. "It must've slipped my mind."
The queen stared at him as if he'd sprouted fur and howled at the moon right there.
"It's in two nights," she said. "The highest-ranking Alphas and Lunas from five major Lycan bloodlines will be in attendance. Half the nobility is already arriving. The ancestral flame will be lit. Oaths will be sworn..."
Thornak rubbed the back of his neck. "Right. That."
Maravelle narrowed her eyes. "You cannot 'right, that' a sacred rite, Thornak. The Moonbinding honors the divine pact between the Lycans and the Moon Goddess. And this year, you're expected to stand beside a potential mate. Your people will watch."
He sighed. "And let me guess that's why you invited Lady Selene."
"She is the appropriate choice," Maravelle said coldly. "Her parents will be here, expecting to see their daughter treated with the dignity her bloodline demands."
Thornak returned to the map. "They can see her standing in the crowd. That should suffice."
"Do not insult them or me with such carelessness. You will be expected to walk with Selene, Thornak. Not… not bring a local to the sacred circle. The Moonbinding is not merely tradition, it's power. And the court is watching."
His eyes snapped to hers, ice in their depths. "Lara will be there. You forget she is my mate. Where I go, she goes."
Maravelle's jaw tightened, but she didn't argue further. Not aloud.
Instead, she turned on her heel, her parting words clipped as the door opened again. "Try not to forget the kingdom next time."
The doors slammed shut behind her.
Thornak muttered under his breath and went back to his map, but his thoughts had shifted entirely.
....
Lara sat quietly in one of the palace's sun-dappled garden alcoves, her fingers trailing along the edges of a weathered book Jasmine had given her. The quiet was comforting, especially now that her adoptive parents had returned to the village, and her younger brother had started lessons with the palace tutors. The king had insisted she stay at the palace, and while Lara had agreed, she still felt like a guest trying not to step too loudly.
She looked up quickly when Iris and Jasmine appeared, their presence as graceful as ever. Iris's smile lit up the space, while Jasmine lingered a few steps behind, fumbling with something in her hands.
"There you are," Iris said, reaching for Lara's hand. "We've been looking everywhere."
"Oh," Lara stood at once, smoothing the folds of her skirt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wander far. Was I needed?"
"Not at all," Jasmine said with a small shake of her head. "But Thornak sent us. You have a fitting."
Lara blinked. "A... fitting?"
"For a gown," Iris explained, already looping her arm through Lara's. "You'll need something appropriate."
Lara's brow creased with quiet concern. "Is there an event?"
Jasmine's lips curved faintly. "It's the Moonbinding Ceremony. One of the most sacred traditions in Vargorath. Happens once in a lot of years."
Lara stopped in her tracks. "And… what does this have to do with me?"
The twins exchanged a look.
"Thornak wants you there," Iris said gently. "In something beautiful. You'll be with us. With the high families."
"Why? I'm not...."
What was going on here and why does it feel like everyone is hiding something big from me. No way a wolfless nobody like me will be treated like someone important by princesses.
"Trust him," Jasmine was saying, turning to face her fully now. "He's not one for grand words, but he's placing you in a position no outsider's ever been invited to before."
Lara hesitated but nodded.
"You'll look beautiful," Iris assured her, giving her arm a little squeeze. "Besides, you'll be seated with us. It's only right you're dressed accordingly."
That made Lara's breath catch. She glanced between the sisters, but they offered no further explanation. Just smiles, and that same careful warmth that both unsettled and reassured her.
They guided her down the hallway toward the royal seamstress.
Selene was already there, lounging on a chaise in a gown the color of fresh blood, surrounded by some court ladies.
The moment her eyes landed on Lara, her lips curved in a venom-laced smile.
"Well, this is new, I didn't realize the palace was fitting rats for gowns now. Times really have changed."
Lara paused, the words stinging like ice water. She said nothing, eyes lowered, fingers brushing the hem of her tunic.
"What's next? Shall we give her a crown too? Or perhaps a title, Lady of the Forgotten? Duchess of Dirt?"
"Careful, Selene," Jasmine said calmly. "Your jealousy is showing."
Selene's head snapped toward her. "Excuse me?"
"I said what I meant," Jasmine replied, folding her arms. "Mocking someone who hasn't harmed you only makes you look petty and desperate."
Iris stepped in too, her tone sweeter but no less firm. "You may be used to people trembling when you speak, Selene, but not everyone is here to play your little games. Lara was invited. By the King. That should tell you enough."
"She's here as our guest," Jasmine added. "Mock her again in our presence, and you'll find yourself in big trouble."
Selene blinked, taken aback, and for a moment, the fire in her eyes faltered. But she recovered quickly, tossing her hair over one shoulder.
"How noble," she scoffed. "Defenders of the common stray."
The seamstress chose that moment to clear her throat nervously. "Come now ladies, I have several gowns ready to fit…"