The cool, evening air of the palace courtyard felt like a benediction, carrying the scent of damp earth and the heavy fragrance of the white lilies Lily the deer had brought. King Axe Moon stood before his mate, a man carved from shadow and ancient stone, yet as Selene looked at him, she saw the cracks in the armor- the vulnerability of a soul that had been wandering in the dark for four centuries.
"May I?" Selene asked softly. Her voice was like the rustle of silk against the marble. In her hands, the basket of forest flowers pulsed with a faint, verdant life, still tethered to her magic.
Axe looked down at her, and for a moment, the fearsome Lycan King was gone. In his place was a man who felt, for the first time in his long life, truly whole. The hollow ache in his chest- the one he had carried since the late 1700s, had been replaced by a warm, thrumming hum. "Of course," he murmured, his voice thick with a sudden, rare happiness.
Selene stepped into his personal space, the proximity igniting a riot of tingles along her skin. With delicate, sure movements, she began to take the flowers- jasmine, tiny white orchids, and sprigs of enchanted fern, and lined the lapel of his emerald-green suit. The white blossoms popped against the deep fabric, looking like stars caught against a forest canopy. She worked with the focus of an artist, her fingers occasionally brushing the firm muscle of his chest, causing his breath to hitch.
She stepped back, tilting her head. "How's that?" she asked, her blue eyes searching his.
Axe looked down at the transformation. He looked less like a warlord and more like a King of the Wild. He caught the spark of creative hunger in her gaze and felt a tug of amusement. "You want to do more, don't you?"
Selene's cheeks deepened into a rose-petal blush, and she nodded slowly. "Yeah. Kinda."
"Go ahead," Axe said, spreading his arms slightly, offering himself up with a surrender he would never grant a general. "I'm your canvas, little wolf. Give me your best work."
A thrill of excitement raced through her. Selene knelt, her emerald dress pooling around her like a silken lake. She began to weave the flowers along the hems of his trousers, trailing them upward in a vine-like pattern that mimicked the growth of ivy. She added accents to the cuffs of his jacket and the hem of the coat, using her magic to fuse the stems to the fabric so they wouldn't fall. When she finished, she stood back, her eyes shining.
They were a matching set- monochrome green and living white.
The car that awaited them was a sleek, obsidian beast that growled to life as they approached. The ride through the city was a blur of neon lights and asphalt, a stark contrast to the mossy silence Selene was used to.
When the car pulled to a stop, Axe stepped out and rounded the vehicle, opening her door with a courtly grace that felt natural despite his rough edges.
The restaurant was a cathedral of high-scale elegance. Its stone facade was draped in climbing ivy and illuminated by soft, amber spotlights. Selene felt a sudden, sharp pang of out-of-place-ness. Her bare feet pressed against the cool pavement, a stark contrast to the polished world she was entering. She was a girl who had spent a decade talking to squirrels and sleeping on straw; this world of millions and velvet seemed like a fragile bubble she might pop.
As they entered, the atmosphere shifted. The air was perfumed with expensive wine and roasted herbs. Grand chandeliers hung from the ceiling like frozen explosions of diamond, casting a warm, flickering light over plush crimson carpets that bounced under her every step.
The hostess, a woman in a gown that probably cost more than Selene's entire cottage, bowed so low her forehead nearly touched the podium. "Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Axe didn't acknowledge her. His focus was a laser beam directed solely at Selene. He led her to a private, intimate booth tucked into a corner. A single, perfect red rose sat in a crystal vase on the table, and above them, a smaller, delicate chandelier bathed the table in a romantic, amber glow.
"Wow," Selene breathed, her eyes wide as she took in the leather-plush seating and the fine silver. "It's beautiful."
"It is," Axe said. But he wasn't looking at the room. He was staring at the way the light danced in her white hair and the way her skin seemed to glow like pearl against the emerald silk.
As the wine was poured- a vintage that had aged nearly as long as some of the guests, Selene leaned forward, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. "So, tell me about yourself, Axe? Beyond the crown. Do you have siblings? Any family who... stayed?"
Axe chuckled, swirling the dark red liquid in his glass. The movement was hypnotic. "You truly didn't see anything in the media? My sister, Kristie is the eldest. She's... a free spirit. She found the politics of the throne suffocating. Last I heard, she was exploring the coast of the Mediterranean, living among the humans."
"And your parents?"
The King's gaze drifted for a moment, the green of his eyes darkening. "After I took the crown at eighteen, a war broke out. They were killed in the heat of it." He looked back at her, gauging her reaction.
"What war?" she asked softly.
Axe gave her a sad, knowing smile. He realized then just how shielded her life in the woods had been. "A few hundred years ago, the Great Territorial War. It was a bloodbath between the wolves, the vampires, and the witches. We were fighting for the very ground we stand on. It was a time of iron and ash."
"Were they kind?" Selene asked, her heart aching for the young man he must have been back then.
Axe was silent, the only sound the distant, soft clinking of silver in the restaurant. "My mother would have loved you," he said finally. "She had a heart like yours- full of light. But my father..." He trailed off, his jaw tightening.
"He wouldn't have liked me because of the prophecy?" she assumed, her voice a hushed whisper.
Axe nodded. "My grandfather was the one who first received the vision. He was the one who decreed that the White Wolf was a cancer to be excised. My father was raised on that fear. He saw the prophecy as a death warrant for our race."
"And you?" Selene asked, her breath catching. "Are you on board with that decision?"
Axe set his glass down. He reached across the table, his large hand covering hers, his thumb stroking her knuckles. "In my younger days, when I was full of my father's bile and the bitterness of the war- yes. I hunted for the sign of the white fur. But now?" He let out a long, heavy sigh. "My father would be profoundly disappointed in me."
"Why?"
"Because I no longer care about the bricks of this kingdom," Axe said, his voice dropping to a gravelly, possessive depth. "I have waited four hundred and thirty-eight years for a reason to feel human. I've found it in you. I will never let you go, Selene. Not for a prophecy, and certainly not for Nik." He sneered the other mate's name as if it were a curse.
Selene squeezed his hand, her heart fluttering. She understood the weight of that loneliness. "I don't have siblings," she began, her voice steadying as she decided to give him the truth he deserved. "But I have parents. Somewhere."
"Why aren't you with them?" Axe asked, his protective instincts already simmering.
"I was born with black hair," Selene said, looking into his eyes. "But as my wolf began to mature inside me, my hair began to change. It turned white, strand by strand. I shifted for the first time when I was ten. When my parents saw my wolf- a creature of pure, blinding white, they didn't see a daughter. They saw a target."
She took a shaky breath. "The Alpha of our pack had been watching me. He told my parents that if I shifted and turned out to be the 'ProphecyWolf,' he would kill me on the spot. He didn't want to risk your family's wrath by harboring a 'curse.' So, my parents... they chose to save me by losing me. They made me a rogue. They sent a ten-year-old girl into the Dead Zone and told the pack I had died in the woods."
Axe's grip on her hand tightened, his knuckles turning white. His aura flared for a split second, a cold wind that rattled the crystal on the table. "They left a child alone in those woods?"
"I learned," she said, a small, proud smile touching her lips. "I learned to farm. I learned which berries were sweet and which were poison. I learned to listen to the wind. The winters were the hardest- the cold bites differently when you're alone, but the animals kept me warm."
The heavy, emotional silence was broken by the rhythmic, practiced swaying of a waitress. She was a striking woman with hair like raven wings and a uniform that seemed two sizes too small, designed to accentuate the deliberate swing of her hips. She ignored Selene entirely, her gaze fixed on the King with a predatory, flirtatious gleam.
"Good evening, my King," she purred, dropping into a deep bow that was less about respect and more about the plunging display of her cleavage. She lingered there for a moment too long. "What can I get for you and your... guest tonight?"
She flashed a winning, practiced smile at Axe, her eyes dancing with the hope of catching a royal's fleeting interest.
Selene felt a sudden, hot spark of jealousy flare in her chest- a feeling so foreign and sharp it made her gasp. Her wolf paced behind her ribs, baring its teeth at the woman who was treating her as if she were a piece of the furniture.
Axe, however, didn't even look up. He didn't spare a single glance for the woman's display or her smile. His eyes remained locked on Selene's, his thumb still tracing circles on the back of her hand.
"We'll start with the vintage reserve," Axe said, his voice cold and dismissive toward the waitress, yet filled with an unsettling intensity as he looked at Selene. "And whatever my mate desires. She is the only one in this room who matters."
The waitress stiffened, her smile faltering as the King's rejection hit her like a physical blow. She glanced at Selene, her eyes flickering with a sudden, sharp realization of who she was dealing with.
Selene sat a little taller, the emerald emeralds on her dress catching the light. She looked at the woman, not with anger, but with the quiet, devastating grace of a Queen. "I'll have the garden risotto," Selene said softly. "And please, make sure the King has his steak rare. He's had a very long day."
The waitress scurried away, and Axe let out a low, dark chuckle. "Jealous, little wolf?"
Selene blushed, but she didn't look away. "Maybe a little. Is that allowed?"
Axe leaned across the table, his face inches from hers. "It's encouraged. Because I feel the same way every time I think of you being within a mile of Nik Gray."
As they sat in the glow of the chandelier, the dark history of the Lycan throne loomed behind them, but for the first time in centuries, the King was smiling.