Faye's POV
"I was under the impression that my bride would be your younger daughter, the one whose wolf has properly manifested," Hardy's voice drifted through the partially opened door of Father's study like poisonous honey, each word calculated to unsettle.
Ice spread through my veins. Next to me, Sally's breathing caught in a barely audible gasp. We pressed ourselves against the corridor wall, straining to catch fragments of the tense conversation unfolding beyond the heavy oak door.
Neither of us dared move, both terrified that the notorious Dread Lord might detect our unauthorized presence.
From within the study, Father's response came in a tone I hardly recognized, stripped of its usual commanding resonance and replaced by something that sounded suspiciously like appeasement. I couldn't distinguish his exact words through the thick wood, only the underlying tension that made my skin crawl.
Hardy's laughter rumbled low and dark, completely incongruous with the refined atmosphere of our family quarters. The sound reminded me of a wolf circling wounded prey, patient and utterly confident in the inevitable outcome.
The quiet that followed pressed against my eardrums like a physical weight. Then Father's enhanced senses must have betrayed our location, because his voice rang out with resigned authority.
"Faye. Sally. Enter."
My stomach clenched into a tight knot. Sally recovered first, her fingers smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her silk dress while her features arranged themselves into an expression of mild concern. I forced myself to adopt similar composure, though my heart hammered against my ribs like a caged bird.
We crossed the threshold side by side, the study's imposing door widening to accommodate our entrance. Hardy Brookhaven had positioned himself against Father's mahogany desk, those infamous gray eyes tracking our movement with the kind of sharp assessment usually reserved for livestock at market.
Father gestured us closer, his jaw set in rigid lines. "Lord Brookhaven requires clarification regarding certain arrangements before tomorrow's departure." His gaze swept both daughters before settling. "Lord Brookhaven, may I present Faye Stormhaven, your intended bride, and Lady Sally Stormhaven, my daughter and heir to the Luna position of this pack."
Hardy straightened with fluid grace and approached us with that distinctive predatory stride that had earned him his fearsome reputation. He halted just short of Sally's personal space, tilting his head as if evaluating a potentially valuable but ultimately disposable artifact.
"Tell me, young lady, have you ever experienced the sound of bone fracturing? Your own bone, specifically."
Sally's throat worked visibly. "No, my lord."
"How unfortunate." His gaze traced the unmarked curve of her throat with clinical interest. "Undamaged things tend to underestimate their own vulnerability. The initial break always proves most instructive." His smile sharpened to a blade's edge. "I understand it resembles kindling splitting in winter cold. Someday I should like to evaluate that particular symphony personally."
Father's posture went rigid, but Hardy had already redirected his attention to me as if contemplating violence were merely an academic exercise.
"Lord Brookhaven, you will cease threatening my daughter under my own roof."
Hardy pivoted, genuine amusement flickering across his features. "Alpha Stormhaven, always the gracious host. Though you did present this daughter as an enticement recently. Surely you understand my desire to examine the merchandise before completing the transaction."
Heat flooded Father's complexion. "Your business is with Faye. The marriage documents bear both our signatures and await the king's approval."
Hardy's focus shifted to me like a physical weight settling across my shoulders. "Documents represent paper and ink. Wolves represent flesh and blood." He indicated the pair of chairs positioned before Father's desk. "Come, future bride. Sit."
I complied, my skirts rustling against the Persian carpet as I claimed the left seat. Hardy followed suit, occupying the chair to my right close enough that our knees made contact when he angled toward me. Rather than settling back, he perched on the seat's edge, draping one arm along my chair's spine so his leather-clad fingers barely grazed my nape. The gesture appeared casual, deceptively so.
"There. Equilibrium achieved," he declared, directing a faintly menacing smile toward Father. "You see? I can demonstrate restraint when properly motivated."
Father's jaw muscles worked furiously. "Your interpretation of restraint involves intimidation."
"Only toward those who attempt deception." Hardy's smile took on a cruel edge. "Duskwood presented one daughter, then attempted to substitute another. I merely wish to understand the proposed exchange."
Sally's hands twisted together until her knuckles went white. "My lord, I never intended—"
He silenced her with a glance so utterly dismissive it carried its own sting. "Peace, little star. No offense was taken. You represent perfection, which unfortunately constitutes the entire problem. Perfect gems serve decorative purposes. Flawed steel, however, is hammered into weapons that draw blood."
His fingers brushed my shoulder blade with just enough pressure to remind me of his capability for force. "This one possesses fascinating imperfections."
Father advanced a step. "You have chosen. Leave Sally removed from your manipulations."
"Manipulations?" Hardy's laughter rang genuinely delighted. "Alpha, I conquered territories before morning meal. This qualifies as diversion. Though," his gaze returned to Sally, "I would not object to acquiring a concubine. His Majesty would hardly question my request for additional companionship."
Lightning split the darkness beyond the windows, briefly illuminating Hardy's profile in stark white relief. For one suspended moment, the room held its collective breath.
Then he leaned closer to me, dropping his voice to barely above a whisper. "Remain still, Faye. Listen with care. One incorrect response tonight and I will dissect your father's reputation before sunrise."
I maintained my rigid posture, gaze fixed straight ahead while every instinct screamed at me to run. Instead, I folded my hands primly in my lap and offered a small nod of understanding.
"If this alliance holds value for you, demonstrate appropriate respect," Father said through clenched teeth.
Hardy's smile expanded. "Respect requires earning, Rowan Stormhaven. Pray you accomplish that before our wedding night."
The tension coiled around us with the same intensity as the approaching storm. Hardy's thumb began a slow, rhythmic tapping against my chair back, each beat echoing like a countdown to execution.
Then his expression shifted to casual pleasantry as he addressed me directly. "What beverage would you prefer?"
The abrupt change left me momentarily speechless. "Water would be sufficient."
"Water?" His brow furrowed with apparent disapproval. "Do you abstain from wine?"
"Not entirely." I avoided mentioning that wolfless Omegas like myself were forbidden access to the pack's quality vintages.
"Excellent," Hardy murmured, then fixed Sally with an imperious stare. "Fetch wine for your princess and myself. Ensure it represents your finest stock."
Father's expression darkened immediately. "My lord, my daughter serves no one—"
"Control your tongue, Alpha Stormhaven." Hardy's interruption carried absolute authority. "You address the Prince Regent of Arkadia and his chosen consort. Unless your house claims precedence over royal bloodline, you will permit the girl to comply."