C7 The Party

I feared my father’s wrath after that. What would he do to me if Cato had let it slip that I planned to poison him? So many excuses world around in my brain, but none that my father wouldn’t sniff out like spoiled milk.

I wasn’t even sure I was going to poison Cato with that vial. It was simply a preemptive decision. I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it in the end.

But my father never confronted me, which meant Cato never told him—or anyone—about the vial that was meant to take his life. Instead, we gathered that morning for a large breakfast at the dinner table that was typically only used for guests and parties. On any normal day, breakfast would have been brought to my room. But instead, I had found myself surrounded by chamber maids and servants, cooks and teachers and my father’s favorite guards. And across the table from me was Cato, who had only met my face long enough for a knowing look to pass between his eyes.

Breakfast was server on our plates, and amid the conversations, my father rose from his chair and clattered his drinking glass with one loud bang of his metal spoon. The table went quiet and he stood there, arms folded behind his back as they usually were. He looked over all of us with his sharp, scrutinizing gaze. “I’ve called this breakfast as a meaning of announcing to all of you the official celebration of my daughter’s marriage.”

My heart doubled and I put down the fork I had been using to saw open an egg.

“As you all know, Korina will be wed in a matter of weeks. I’ve asked you all here as you’ll be vital parts of this engagement celebration. Cooks, we’ll require a feast that will appease everyone—fine meats, good wine, a cake that will feed dozens. The guards will resume their typical duties, verifying the visitors, monitoring every wolf that walks through those doors. I will require heavy cleaning from the maids and servants will join my wife in her planning efforts.” I watched my father smile. It felt like it was the first time in my life I’d seen his grin. “I trust you’ll make this a wondrous day for my daughter.”

My stomach ached and for the rest of breakfast, I did not eat a bite. Across the table, Cato eagerly drank his wine down.

-

Sneaking out of the castle a second time would’ve been too difficult, so the next evening, I sent Daniel out to deliver a letter to Viktor, cordially agreeing to his terms and asking that he attend the celebration. I would declare him my mate. My wedding to Cato would be broken. And it would buy me enough time to find my wolf—wherever she may be.

Letters were sent out to guests by noon, and by dinner, my mom had selected the exact roses and table cloths for the celebration. I stowed away in my room, wishing the walls would crumble around me and the ground swallow me up whole.

But they didn’t and the party continued, whether I wished for it or not. Guests arrived—all of them in human form as had been explicitly requested on the invitations—and tables had been set up beside live music. My mother had purchased dozens of candles for the event, and they lit the room in a low, warm flicker. She had even created centerpieces from my favorite flowers—soft, white baby’s breath, wrapped in ribbons.

I had been near tears staring at them when a hand touched my shoulder. I’d hardly recognized Viktor without his mussy hair and black rogue uniform. Instead, he wore a tunic and a black pair of pants, and his hair had been combed back and kept in place with something that smelled of honey. I could not help the smile as he took me by the hand and led me away from the tables. “You came!”

He crossed one arm behind his back and bowed. “I’ll take my payment after this is over.” Then he drew me out towards the ballroom. Dozens of wolves congratulated me as I passed them—some touching my back and some kissing my cheeks, some whispering to their friends and some clanking glasses in celebration.

The music was loudest in the ballroom, where a man plucked at a cello and a woman sang to the tune of her piano. Viktor whirled me around by my fingertips and drew me in close. “Where is he?” he asked. “This terrible man you’re meant to marry.”

I scanned the crowed for him, finding Cato near the doorway. He hadn’t even bothered to dress out of his usual war uniform.

“There,” I said, “by the door. With the scars.”

“What a sight for sore eyes,” said Viktor. He went back to dancing, twisting me about and rocking the both of us side to side. And at some point, he froze. His body went stiff in my arms and when he turned, Daniel stood behind him, a tray of wine in his hands. He gave us a slightly unsettled look and scurried off to deliver drinks to the rest of the party.

I couldn’t pick apart their behavior—why they acted so on guard with one another. It almost seemed as though Daniel struck up an intuition in Viktor that he didn’t much like.

“What was that? You were acting strangely,” I asked him.

“Nothing,” said Viktor. “I’m not used to being around high-class wolves. I came from a pack that lived in dilapidated villages, hunting the local forest to fill our bellies at night. Our alpha didn’t care for the safety and wellbeing of his pack. He horded our good fortune and let the rest of us starve.”

“That’s awful,” I replied.

Viktor tilted his head and gave the air a sniff. “We are surrounded by alphas. There must be at least six here. I hate the smell of them, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted.

Viktor paused, then muttered against my hair, “Of course.”

I question piqued in me. “Do I smell like a wolf to you? Or…do I smell like a human?”

Viktor looked me in the eye, then leaned in until my chin brushed his shoulder and I felt his breath against my ear. “You smell like honeysuckle.”

My face heated. I felt eyes on me, and found Cato in the distance, watching us without expression. “Dance with someone else for a moment,” I told him. Then I escaped to the drink table.

For some reason, I was parched. I didn’t know if it was Viktor’s good looks or his charm, but my heart couldn’t handle the close proximity to him and it felt as though my blood was burning through my skin. I shot back a glass of wine, then started on another. And by the third glass, my father had called me to the front to give a brief speech to my guests. By then, I was drunk and brave enough to face the music.

“Just thank them for coming,” he urged me, and ushered me toward the piano.

The crowd went quiet as I stood before them, numb on whine but wracked with nervousness.

“Uhm,” I began. I cleared my throat and gave a slight laugh. Only my voice echoed through the crowded ballroom. “Thank you all for coming, but I have an announcement to make.”

In the crowd, I saw Cato’s head turn to me. I felt my father’s gaze on my back.

“I won’t be marrying Mr. Kritchley.”

There was an upset. A soft mutter grew from the crowd. Before it could grow too loud, I said, “You see, I’m not his mate. Nor is he mine.” When I glanced back, the look of outrage on my father’s face pierced a cold fear into my chest. I turned back to the crowd. “I’ve found my true mate. He’s the one I wish to marry.”

As I gestured toward Viktor, the crowd seemed to repel around him until he stood in the center of an empty circle.

My father had me by the wrist in a moment, ripping me from the spotlight.

“What are you doing, Korina? I’ve instituted this marriage as a means of saving our kingdom! Cato would rule this land the same way I have for fifty years, but you—someone as weak and as worthless as you would let it fall to ruin in a heartbeat. How does it feel to know you’ve destroyed my legacy?”

As much as I hated my father in that moment, his words still pricked. He raised his hand as if to hit me—something he’d never done before—but gathered his temper and laid it back down.

“I have never been so disappointed in you,” he said.

Tears ruined my sight, but before I could speak out, a shatter came from the west hall. Then came a scream.

A surged of wolves entering the ballroom, lunging atop the crowd. Shouts of pain shot out, blood spurting from the biting jaws of feral beasts. Guests flailed on the ground, captured by the thorny teeth of wolves. Some turned themselves, bursting into misty clouds and biting into the legs and muzzles of the attackers.

Most ran as fast as their feet would carry them.

My time had run out. The North was attacking.