Chapter 7

Aubrey's POV The cool night breeze carried the scent of moonflowers and jasmine across the castle grounds, tugging at the loose strands of hair that had escaped my upswept style. I silently thanked Queen Grace for taking charge of my preparation for the evening. Her maids had practically scrubbed me raw in the bath, then covered me with layers of scented oils that matched the vanilla-infused bathwater. The scent clung to my skin even now, subtle but unmistakable. The gown they dressed me in took my breath away every time I caught my reflection in the crystal glasses dotting the outdoor tables. It was midnight blue silk that shifted like liquid starlight with every movement, the fabric gathering at my waist before flowing out in ethereal layers perfect for an evening under the open sky. After years of practical clothing since losing my family, wearing something so elegant felt almost forbidden. "Aubrey, you're here!" A familiar voice pulled me from my reverie. I blinked to find Queen Grace gliding toward me, resplendent in her own flowing gown. The crowd parted before her like a tide, and suddenly, I felt hundreds of eyes turning in my direction. Gratitude washed over me—for if I'd chosen my own outfit, this much attention would have been unbearable. "Good evening, Your Highness," I began, lowering my head in a slight bow, but her hand caught my shoulder halfway. "None of that," she chided warmly. "Why would my future daughter-in-law greet me so formally?" Before I could react, she pulled me into an embrace that forced the air from my lungs. Her scent—roses and vanilla wrapped in power—enveloped me completely. My mind reeled at the casual display of affection. I managed what I hoped passed for a genuine smile as we separated. The gathering had stopped to stare at us, the music fading to background noise. Forcing down my discomfort at being the center of attention, I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. But all my carefully constructed composure shattered at the King's next words. "Everyone, please welcome my son's mate, Lady Aubrey Lancelot, daughter of the late Alpha and Luna Lancelot of the Haven Pack." Shock ran through me like ice water. The crowd erupted in applause, faces turning toward me with warm smiles and approving nods, but I barely registered them. Oh shit. The information I'd put on my guard application—I had filled it out with my real background, not thinking twice about it. It hadn't even occurred to me to lie since everything checked out for the position. But now, hearing my family's name announced to the entire court like this, I realized what a stupid, careless mistake that was. I stood frozen, completely unprepared for this turn of events, my mind scrambling for how to react. "Welcome!" A distinguished-looking wolf raised his crystal goblet in my direction. I glanced down at my empty hands, momentarily panicked, but Queen Grace smoothly intervened. "Thank you all. Please help make her feel at home," she said graciously. The wolf—unmistakably a Pack Beta by his bearing—gave me a respectful nod before moving away. That was how I spent the first quarter of the night, at least then, with a crystal glass of wine to keep my hands busy. People kept approaching in waves, all smiles and sympathy, welcoming me to court while offering condolences about my family and pack. Each "I'm so sorry for your loss" felt like a punch to the gut. It was fucking weird, honestly. Back at Prince Jax's manor, no one gave two shits about my tragic backstory. Nobody wondered how the orphan girl was holding up after losing everyone she loved in a single bloody day. Instead, they turned their noses up at me, whispering about how "unladylike" it was that I preferred learning to fight rather than attending their precious tea parties. The contrast made my head spin. "This is Noah and his mate Zara," the Queen's voice cut through my bitter memories. I focused on the couple before me—a stunning blonde with eyes like the summer sky standing next to a man whose wire-rimmed glasses couldn't hide his sharp, calculating hazel gaze. His hand rested possessively on her lower back while she gripped his fingers with casual intimacy. "So nice to meet you," Zara said, extending her hand with a warmth that seemed genuine. "Nice to meet you too," I managed, proud that my voice stayed steady. "I'm Noah, Crown Prince Knox's royal advisor." He offered his own hand, and I noticed the calluses that suggested he was more than just a bookish consultant. Just as I pulled my hand back, a voice cut through the night air behind me. "What, we don't rate an introduction to your crown princess?" "Iris!" the group called out in unison, and I turned to see a young woman's lips spread in a mischievous grin. "Hi, Mommy!" She launched herself at the Queen, who accepted the enthusiastic embrace with practiced grace. The family resemblance hit me like a slap—same raven-dark hair, same bright green eyes. Knox's sister, it had to be. "Babe, I've told you to slow down when you walk," a deep voice rumbled from the direction she had come. Holy shit. The man approaching looked built like a fortress—all hard muscle and sharp angles, with a military buzz cut and eyes like steel. He could probably snap me in half without breaking a sweat. "Good evening, Your Highness." He bowed deeply, and I stared at him in confused shock. The idea of this werewolf tank showing deference to me was so absurd that I almost laughed. My new title still felt like a costume I was wearing, and his bow only emphasized how surreal the whole night had become. The mountain of a werewolf pulled Iris from her mother's embrace, but before he could properly scold her, she spun around and planted a quick kiss on his lips. It was like watching ice melt in summer—his scowl vanished instantly. "Sorry, I'll walk slower next time. I was just too excited to meet Knox's mate!" She turned to me with a grin that could light up the entire garden. "Hi, I'm Iris!" Before I could react, she yanked me into a bone-crushing hug that rivaled her mother's. Must be genetic; this family's tendency to express affection through potential suffocation. "Nice to meet you," I managed, once she released me, glancing between her and her mate, who looked like he could bench-press a carriage. "So tell me," Iris started, grabbing my hand with infectious enthusiasm. She launched into a rapid-fire series of questions about my life, and something weird happened—I actually wanted to answer them. The words flowed freely as I told them about my love for sparring and my secret addiction to sneaking cookies from the kitchen. No calculated responses, no careful editing. Just... me. They laughed easily, sharing their own stories. Zara and Iris dominated the conversation while their mates hovered protectively nearby, strong hands resting on their waists like anchors. The casual intimacy between them made something in my chest ache. As Queen Grace and Iris dove into a heated debate about hair products, I found my eyes scanning the lamplit grounds for my own mate. I hadn't caught a glimpse of him all night. "Missing him already?" Aria's smug voice echoed in my head. "It's his party—I just want to know if he's even here," I snapped back, but then his scent hit me like a punch to the gut. My head whipped around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash and holy shit. There he stood, and just... fuck. He was devastating in a midnight blue jacket with silver threading that caught the moonlight, the cut emphasizing his broad shoulders and warrior's build. The formal attire should have looked stiff and uncomfortable on someone so powerful, but he wore it like a second skin. I couldn't help but drink him in, and my heart did this stupid little flutter that made me want to punch myself in the face. My momentary pleasure at seeing Knox shattered as I noticed the woman beside him. She was gorgeous—all long legs and perfect curves—and the way her head fell back as she laughed at something he said made my stomach turn. The smile he gave her in return felt like claws raking across my chest. Something primal inside me snarled at the sight. His smile should have been mine. His laughter should have been for my jokes only. Disgusted by these possessive thoughts I had no right to feel, I snagged a glass of wine from a passing server. Thank the Moon Goddess that Iris, her mom, and Zara were too deep in their heated debate to notice as I knocked it back in one desperate gulp. The second glass followed just as quickly, the alcohol burning away the bitter taste of jealousy. A prickle ran down my spine, and I looked up to catch Aston—Iris's mountain of a mate—watching me with knowing eyes. Fuck. The weight of his stare made my skin crawl, as if he could see right through my bullshit and knew exactly why I was trying to drown these unwanted feelings. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," I muttered, practically fleeing from his too-perceptive gaze. The wine churned in my stomach as I escaped into the cooler air away from the crowd. "Feeling jealous of a mate you're not supposed to want?" The whispered voice in my mind froze me mid-step. "How... interesting." My eyes widened as I recognized the lilting accent. "The garden. Now!" Ivanka's mental command pierced through my mind, cold and unyielding. She wasn't a werewolf, but her dark witch abilities allowed her to mimic our mind-linking. Unlike us, though, she could do more—she could know our thoughts. I bolted toward the gardens, my heart thundering against my ribs. The fragrant rows of roses and moonflowers were empty, the lantern light casting strange shadows between the hedges. As I turned to leave, darkness swirled overhead. I snapped my gaze upward, but it was already gone—replaced by a cold breath against my cheek. "Princess." Ivanka's voice whispered through the air like smoke, but she was nowhere to be seen. My scream echoed through the empty garden, swallowed by the night. Laughter exploded through the garden, making my heart slam against my ribs as I waited for her to appear. But she didn't materialize—she just kept playing her mind games. "I told him you'd appreciate this method best," her voice echoed through the darkness. "Where the hell are you?" I spun in place, searching the shadows. "Everywhere, dear." Her words danced around me, and I hated how she could make something simple sound so freaking creepy. "Why are you here?" I forced my breathing to steady even as my pulse raced. "To deliver a message." Her whisper brushed against my ear, her shadow's breath ice-cold on my skin before vanishing. "Jax hopes that even with Knox being your mate, he can still count on you to deliver." "Yes, he can." I made my voice hard as steel, refusing to let any doubt seep through, even as my mind raced about how they already knew Knox was my mate. "So you're not curious to feel your mate's touch?" A phantom hand slid up my arm, making my skin crawl. "Your mate's breath hot against your face as he stares into your eyes, fucking you into oblivion?" Her taunting words slithered through my mind, and I swallowed hard against the sudden heat in my blood. "I'm not." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, and I prayed to the Moon Goddess she couldn't sense the bullshit in my words. "Good. Then we expect to know Prince Knox's daily routine, what's discussed in his private meetings, and who his strongest allies are at court." "Yes." The word felt like ash in my mouth. "Good, because—" Ivanka's shadow suddenly swelled, darkening and growing until it loomed over me. I thought she was finally going to show herself when— "Who the fuck are you talking to?" I whirled around so fast I nearly fell, and every drop of blood drained from my face. Knox stood there, his green eyes hard. How long had he been watching? How much had he heard? "Fuck!" The curse slipped out as I stared at him, his scowl deepening as he waited for an answer I didn't know how to give.