Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Dante’s POV
The sharp pinch to my arms maile me growl low in my throat, my irritation eling juu below the surface. I glared at try father, who was putting on one of his signature fake smiles.
“You look like you’re marching at a funeral instead of meeting your fiancee,” he said, his tone far too jovial for my mood.
“I haven’t agreed to marry her yet,” I snapped, flexing my claws beneath the thin fabric of my gloves “You promised I’d have the freedom to choose after meeting her. That’s the only reason Lagreed to this madness”
Caius walked ahead of me, his silver–and–black mask glittering under the glass chandeliers, his matching tuxedo a stark contrast to my own deep maroon–and–black attire. His ever–present goofy grin was firmly in place as he bumped my shoulder and leaned in.
“Hey, just saw your future bride,” he teased. “She looks like she’s ready for the wedding already
“She’s not my bride,” I growled, my voice sharper than I intended. My wolf stirred restlessly, agitated for reasons I couldn’t pinpoint.
We entered the grand ballroom, the vast space shimmering with opulence. The Wolfe mansion was as extravagant as I’d expected. The ballroom itself was massive, with towering ceilings adorned with gold embellishments and a central glass chandelier that refracted the light into rainbows across the polished marble floor. Ice–blue and white silks draped the tables, which were laden with crystal glassware and silver cutlery.
The centerpiece was an ice sculpture–wolves circling doves. The imagery was painfully on the nose, but I supposed it was meant to inspire unity.
I scanned the room, noting the strategically placed guards. Everyone here was on edge, their smiles forced, their movements calculated. It was no surprise two packs that had been at war for nearly a decade now forced into a room together under the pretense of peace.
I accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant, the dark red liquid swirling in the goblet like blood. I tipped it back, letting the bitter tang linger on my tongue. As I swallowed, an image flashed through my mind: a woman in a wine–red dress, her skin glowing under dim light, her whiskey–colored eyes locking with mine.
It had been four weeks. Four fucking weeks since I’d met her–Valencia
And yet, she haunted me.
No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t shake her from my thoughts. It was like she’d imprinted herself into the core of my being. I’d even checked for a mate mark, paranoid that she might have somehow claimed me that night. But there was nothing–no mark, no tether.
Yet, my wolf was relentless, pacing and growling like a caged beast every time I looked at another woman. Nothing interested me anymore. No matter how beautiful the person before me, it was as if every ounce of desire I’d ever felt had been siphoned away by her.
She like a
I’d searched for her, of course. Valencia. An Omega with auburn hair and freckles. But I had found nothing was
ghost. She had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a name and her memory.
And then there was the matter of this damned treaty,
My father’s obsession with peace talks and marriage alliances grated on my nerves. The idea of tying myself to someone for political convenience made my skin crawl. But every time I remembered my mother’s dying wish–to–protect the weaker, to end senseless violence–I found myself biting back my protests
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11:39 Tue, Jan 14
Chapter 22
We’d already taken our revenge on the Wolfe pack and 1 had accepted that after my Father’s hours of insistence.
Their Luna was dead, killed in a manner so cruel it mirrored my mother’s fate.
Now fighting over the lost territory that had right fully belonged to us didn’t seem as important as stopping the violence.
The tolling of the eight–hour clock pulled me from my thoughts
The Wolfe family entered in a slow, deliberate procession. First came the Alpla, Roman Wolfe, flanked by his second and third–in–command. Next were the heirs, Jason and Jason Wolle both clad in sharp black suits-
Then came the Kallistars.
I recognized the eldest son, Aiden, with his pale blonde hair and scarred face immediately. He led the way, followed by three other men in stark white suits. My father muttered something about “Always breeding, but I tuned him out as the women entered.
Pastel gowns–blue, pink, lavender, white–flowed around them like soft waves. My gaze swept over them disinterestedly until it caught on something different.
Someone different.
She was in deep maroon, the rich color accented by black and brown lace. She looked completely different from all the others. Her mask was black, concealing most of her face, but her auburn hair framed it in soft waves, cascading down her back like fire.
My chest tightened, my eyes widened, my claws digging into my palms.
“Rumag.”
The word slammed into my mind like a sledgehammer, reverberating through me. My vision swam, and my claws extended involuntarily.
I turned away, clutching the edge of a nearby table to steady myself. The sharp pulsating voice in my head was unfamiliar this wasn’t my wolf.
What the hell did “Rumag” mean?
“Dante?” My father’s hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me from the haze.
“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing my claws to retract.
After a slight pause my father spoke, “Good. Let’s go meet Celeste Kallistar.”
He gestured toward a girl in a plain white tulle dress, like a porcelain doll–fragile and artificial.
her orange hair curled and adorned with a flower crown. She looked
My heart sank. As my father steered me toward the stage to greet the Kallistar Alphas, my gaze darted back to the girl in
maroon.
She was gone,
After enduring the pleasantries with the Wolfe and Kallistar families, I slipped away to the terrace,
Considering the fact that the Alpha had a daughter named Anastasia I had expected to meet her, but I understood why he was reluctant to send his one and only precious daughter into enemy territory.
Throwing the daughter of his second in command under the bus instead.
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11:39 Tue, Jan 14 ti
Chapter 22
The cool air was a welcome reprieve from the suffocating tension inside.
As I leaned against the railing, trying to calm my restless wolf, rised voices caught my attention. They were coming from a nearby powder room, the door slightly ajar.
“It seems just because Alpha Drogo was kind enough to take you a bastard daughter–in, you’ve forgotten your place,” a woman sneered, her voice venomous. “I made that dress to suit your status. But just like your mother, you’d rather dress like a cheap whore.”
Drogo Kallistar? I could piece together what she was saying, I remembered hearing about another daughter.
My lip curled in disgust. It wasn’t mercy to take responsibility for your own actions–especially not when those actions resulted in a child.
This was exactly what I had expected from those revolting old Alpha’s
The girl’s response was loud, but trembling. “Don’t call my mother that!”
My breath hitched. I knew that voice.
“You. Valencia. Are. Nothing. But. A. Whore’s. Daughter.”
The door creaked as I pushed it open, stepping inside.
SEND GIFT
