Chapter 3

Chapter 3 ~Raphael ~ I’m swallowed by shock. I never thought I’d see her again. I watch her beautiful figure turn and run upstairs into the hall. “Raphael?” Urien, my Beta, startles me out of my trance. “Are you okay?” I force myself to compose and start walking. “Yeah.” I pass beneath the veranda, where people watch from the top floor, and step into the grand ballroom. “A smile would suit you from time to time, Raph,” Emmet chuckles, now following behind me with Antonio and Dorian. The corner of my mouth lifts with a twitch. “There, happy?” “Never the fucking mind,” he mutters, brows furrowed. “It’s creepy.” We come up to Finn and Tobias. “Father not here yet?” I ask. “No,” Tobias responds. He doesn’t even look at me—not a surprise. We don’t get along. Finn chuckles. “I knew war would be the only thing to bring us all together again—same moment, same place.” Tobias mutters, “Raphael is the only one who’s always too busy to see family.” I correct him. “Not too busy, just don’t really care unless it involves my mother.” Tobias grinds his teeth. “Of course you don’t care.” I roll my eyes. “Besides, I’m not the crown prince. I don’t have to be here twenty‑four seven.” “But you’re next in line after me,” Tobias snaps. “You should take that seriously.” We were all born to different mothers, and since our mothers never got along, neither do we. Tobias can have the throne for all I care. The only reason I’ve returned is because of my mother. Tobias and I clash the most, and though Finn is more agreeable, our relationship is far from perfect. Antonio, Emmet, and Dorian are different—I don’t speak much with any of them, but at least there’s no animosity. A sudden flurry of stomps echoes through the hall as the guards strike the floor with their boots, announcing the king’s arrival. The crowd steps aside for Father, his salt‑and‑pepper hair framing a strong, warrior’s face. He walks to the throne, greeting people as he goes. My brothers and I bow when he arrives, and he touches each of our shoulders in turn, signaling us to relax. “Glad to see you all here on time.” He turns and speaks to the crowd. “Let the festivities begin! Feast today and speak of war tomorrow!” I take my secondary seat behind the throne where Father sits. Tobias and Finn settle into theirs as well. As for Antonio, Dorian, and Emmet, they don’t have thrones because of their ignoble lineage. As the feast begins, I watch the crowd. Even though I’m not trying to, I can’t help but look for her. Day in and day out, she’s all I think about. Ever since the day I rejected her. But I had to, and I’ll never forgive my father for this. I hate myself for it—for breaking that smile when she first saw me. She was beautiful, everything I ever wanted. I remember that night well. I looked out at the garden, trying to catch my breath from all the watchful eyes. Then I sensed someone behind me, a scent stirring my senses. When I turned, I was face‑to‑face with her. For a few seconds, I was captivated, entranced by the spell of the mate bond. She was beautiful, but I quickly came to my senses, and I uttered the words I never thought I’d say. “I reject you.” Her expression fell from the smile that had formed. Her eyes filled with tears, one slipping down her cheek. Without a word, she turned and walked down the garden stairs. I expected anger, maybe a fight—but there was nothing. My heart hurt the moment she turned. An excruciating pain almost brought me to my knees, but I held it in. It nearly broke me. Even without speaking it aloud, she had accepted the rejection—so easily—and I felt it. Our bond broke instantly. But even after, it still hurt. I felt a loss. A part of me was gone. She was crushed that night. I felt it, I saw it, and for the first time in a long time, my cold heart felt something. After she aimlessly walked away, I immediately left the gathering, but to my own surprise, I turned the car back around and looked for her at the edge of that forest. I didn’t know what I would say to her, but I wasn’t about to change my mind. What I had done was done with full intention. Maybe I’d explain why I shattered our bond. But I never found her. It dawned on me that I’d never known her name, who she was, or even heard her voice—not once. But I never forgot her face. It came to me every night. I longed for her. The woman who was supposed to be mine. It was torment, and I believed I’d never see her again. How wrong I was. The more the room fills with people, the more distracted I get. I look at everyone, especially women in golden attire. She must be related to one of the generals—those are the only families here tonight. I watch Emmet prance around with a beautiful girl. “I heard he had chosen a mate,” Urien speaks in my ear. He stands next to my throne. “That must be her.” No one can find information like Urien can. He’s cunning and smart, just like his father, who serves my mother as an adviser. I’ve known Urien since we were children, and I trust him more than anyone else. That’s why I chose him as my Beta. “By the way… who was that woman you stopped to stare at in the foyer?” “No one.” It’s futile. I can tell it’s piqued his interest, and he’ll find out sooner or later. But I won’t make it easy for him. “Hm… no one? Yet she’s someone who made the second Prince—known for his cold demeanor—stop in his tracks in the middle of a crowded entrance.” “Urien, get me a drink.” He chuckles as he walks away to do my bidding. Nosy fucker. *** ~Valeria ~ “Max… why did this have to happen?” I pet Max, who looks up at me with big doe eyes as he rests his head on my lap. “Why did I have to see him again?” I sit on the floor in my new room. I’ve been like this for half an hour now after I ran. Before tonight, I never had a clear picture of him. The memory of our first meeting was hazy, marked only by his bright hair. Now I see him fully, and I hate it. I wish I’d never laid eyes on him again. The pain he caused me had been fading, and I thought tonight might finally be good. But now it’s ruined. The realization crashes over me—he’s a prince. A prince! How could a prince have been my fated mate? No… my former fated mate. The thought will haunt me forever. And then, to make things worse, he’ll be living here, which means I’m bound to bump into him. And I can’t live in my room forever. I know I can’t hide. I wipe my face of tears. “Alright, Max, I think it’s time I made my way back.” I give him one last pat and get up. After fixing my makeup, I drag my feet through the hall. Near the foyer, a door swings open, and a man collides with me. “I’m so sorry, ma’am!” A familiar face peers down at me. “Oh, it’s you,” Grimm says—the boy I met when we first arrived. He carries a box of cleaning supplies. “It’s fine.” My brows knit together. “You’re not attending the party?” As soon as I say that, I remember why. “I’m wolfless, and I’m not of noble blood, so I’m not invited,” he says. “I’m the help. I work here.” “Oh,” I say, but my eyes are drawn to the room he just came from. “What is this place?” “The tapestry room. Instead of paintings, the king likes to collect tapestries and gems.” “Can I…” “Yeah, it’s open for the public to view. Just… don’t make a mess for me to clean.” He chuckles. When I walk in, the walls are covered with tapestries of every size and shape, each one filled with images that tell a different story. Some show battles, others kings and queens, and a few seem to whisper of forgotten lands. Glass cases line the room, holding rare crystals in many colors, shapes, and sizes. They catch the light, glowing softly. But one tapestry in particular pulls at me. Its colors are deeper, as if woven with something more than cloth. “Is that… the Raven Wolf King?” “Yes.” Grimm, who had followed me, answers. He leans on the wall next to the tapestry and looks up at it. “This is my favorite, to be honest.” I study the picture. A man with long black hair flowing to his waist and piercing black eyes stands in dark armor, a wolf insignia emblazoned on his chest. Behind him, lightning splits furious clouds while ravens wheel through the storm—one perched firmly on his shoulder. He looks imposing, shadowed, and dark. “I know his name, but I don’t know much about the lore,” I mutter. “It’s said he was immortal. He couldn’t be killed—I mean, he was killed—but age and death could never catch him. There are many stories. Some say he was the first of our kind. Others think he was a hybrid, a cross between a werewolf and a vampire, which could explain the long life.” I shiver. “The Raven Wolf King is just scary folklore—” “Folklore?” he cuts in. “You’re mistaken. The story is real. The Raven Wolf King truly existed. It’s written in the Elder King’s account. He’s said to have been defeated nearly seven centuries ago.” “Are you serious?!” “Yes! You can look it up in the library. Anyone can use it.” He then whispers, “Some even believe… that the Raven Wolf King didn’t die in The Battle of the Fallen.” “Great. Thanks for adding that to my nightmares.” He laughs. “Sorry, I just like history and facts.” I offer a faint smile. “I’m Valeria, by the way.” “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Valeria. But I have to get back to work. I need this job.” “Of course.” I watch him leave the room, then stand there looking up at the tapestry, enthralled by the realization that this man was real once. “I really thought you were a myth,” I whisper. I swear, the empty room fills with hisses and whispers. Even some of the tapestries move as if wind were present, though it’s an enclosed room. I begin to back away until I exit and close the door. What is wrong with me? I’m starting to hear things. I let out a deep sigh that echoes through the empty hall. I suppose… I should be getting to the party. I have to face him. Or maybe… I don’t. That’s right. I don’t have to do anything with him. He broke our bond, so he’s nothing to me now. I’ll go to the party, and I’ll enjoy myself as I ignore him. Yeah… let’s do this.