I grabbed a tray of champagne flutes and stood at the walkway's end, letting guests get drinks before seating themselves. Brandon stood reluctantly near a priestess. Derek, beside him, leaned in to whisper something. Another omega took my empty tray and gave me a full one. “Are you okay here?” Her voice was soft, yet I heard a tremble.
I caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. She must have noticed, because her lips curved upward briefly. “I’m fine, thank you,” I replied, taking the tray.
I remained there as the last guests arrived. Garith and Verity took flutes, barely glancing at me—a relief, though unsurprising. He claims omegas are the backbone, yet not important enough to acknowledge. I smirked as they turned away.
“Have you heard anything from the King?” Garith whispered to Verity as they sat down.
“No. Like I said, there’s no fucking way he’d show up,” she replied, glancing at the crowd and lifting her lip. “It’s beneath him. It’s beneath us. Why are we even here?”
“We need to keep Vince happy…for now.”
“Why?” She sighed, casting a silencing bubble. I countered the spell to listen, maintaining a neutral expression. “He failed to syphon the children, for fuck’s sake, Dad. He’s a waste of space.”
Garith turned to her. “You were part of that plan, Verity. If he failed, it’s because you failed. And I don’t think you want me to tally up every time you’ve failed me these last few years.”
Verity looked wounded. “But—”
“But nothing. You were an accident, a fling with that whore of a mother. When I found you and realized you were my child, I took you in because I had a use for you. But at every turn, you’ve disappointed me.” He shook his head. A surge of excitement rippled through the unsuspecting audience. Garith furrowed his brow, his mask partially concealing his confusion. He turned to Verity, awaiting an answer, but she only shook her head.
She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, an omega rushed to the aisle’s end. “Please stand and bow to His Majesty, King Rowan Lukos.”
A hush fell as Rowan approached, requesting a mask. His tousled dark hair made both my wolves stir; I struggled to contain them. His partially open shirt revealed a mating mark, eliciting another gasp.
“The king has found his mate,” someone whispered excitedly. “I wonder who she is. And what about his fiancée?” Rowan smirked at the whispers, adjusting his shirt to further expose the mark.
Another pause. Our mate is perfect. Nix sighed, settling against our barrier. My eyes flashed; Rowan noticed, his smile widening. He glanced around the hall, met my gaze, then strutted to a front-row seat.
Brandon preened, proud of the King's attendance, but a flash of triumph crossed his face when he saw his father. Vince nodded to an omega, who approached me, took a champagne flute, and added something silver. I whispered a spell—“Iti shoner tugu sinti floura notka”—and the silver particles flashed white, neutralizing the toxin. From a distance, it just looked like bubbling. The omega hurried to Rowan, who took a sip.
Garith glared at Verity. “I thought you said he’d fucking show up. Are you really this fucking useless, that…”
“…Brandon outsmarted you?” Verity stammered, trying to find words. “And who the fuck did Rowan mate?”