Would he be a paragon of such virtues? Would his voice carry warmth, or simply command? What would he think of the limp she couldn’t hide, the birthmark she couldn’t cover? Would he look once and turn away, or not look at all?
Softly, she wondered, “What kind of a man accepts a bride sight unseen?”
Feng, from across the hall, replied, “One with much to gain.”
Wu Ma followed, more softly, “An Alpha with nothing to lose.”
Something in her blood, old as bone, answered to the word ‘Alpha.’ It curled sinuously in her belly, an echo of an instinct she crushed down before it could bloom.
Yet, she pictured him anyway—broad-shouldered in armour, perhaps, with the pale eyes of a Northerner. An Alpha who might stand between her and the world, or become the very thing she must stand against.
JingYi swallowed, turning back to the workbench. She gathered the pestle again. More bark crumbled beneath her hand, the rhythm calming, familiar.
One final mixture. One final dose.
Beyond the window, dusk thickened. Somewhere across the sea, in a kingdom at the foot of a mountain range, an Alpha waited.
It was fated, they said. She didn’t know if she believed in fate.
But if the gods saw fit to carve one last sliver of life for her, she would take it.
And she would not look back.
CHAPTER 3
ALEXANDER
The air in Limyere Palace’s great hall was thick with spiced wine and sweating wax and dozens of cloying perfumes. It sat heavy in the lungs. As Alexander walked its length, the court’s stares felt like physical pressure. Appraising, always appraising. He’d endured it for years now, and though it had gotten easier, he didn’t like it any better.
How he despised this game. Give him a sword, a patch of open ground, an opponent with steel in hand—not this cavernous hall where the weapons were smiles and whispers, the wounds invisible.
Darion Merrow walked beside him. Grim-faced, broad-shouldered, with shoulder-length hair the colour of soot, he was built for war. He belonged on a battlefield, not among silk-clad courtiers and jewelled nobles, despite his valour during their latest war with Velbrun. His presence alone was enough to make the more delicate members of the court shrink back, their instinct for self-preservation overriding their curiosity.
An added advantage, Alexander thought, a dark chuckle threading through his chest.
“See?” Darion muttered low enough for only Alexander to hear. “No rotten vegetables flying your way. A warm welcome.”
He almost snorted. How amusing it was, that even with the king’s summons, he still felt like a trespasser. The same whispers he’d heard for years buzzed around him.
Wulfbane, the traitor’s son.
Showing his face at court . . . Has he no shame?
He locked his jaw, the tension solidifying his focus, and drove himself forward. His world narrowed to the dais ahead, a fixed point in the swirling scrutiny. King Ferdinand sat there, a crowned silhouette. On his left, a flash of familiar auburn—his younger sister, Princess Adelise.
Alexander took the final step to the respectful distance and bowed. He kept the motion honed and faultless, a soldier’s reflex polished into a courtier’s tool, giving away nothing of the man within.
“My king.” Then he bowed to Princess Adelise. “Princess.”
His sovereign’s gaze swept over him, those grey eyes keen but, as usual, unreadable. He was a young man, only two years Alexander’s senior, but his authority was a cold, settled thing.
“Rise, Wulfbane.”
He straightened—spine tall, hands clasped at his back. The air in the hall thinned as the king announced, “Emperor HaiYán of Xûen-Sarai has sent his answer. He has consented to the union between you and his Omega daughter, the Princess Xûen JingYi.”
A current, sharp and alert, shot through Alexander’s veins. Two crowns. Two kingdoms had declared him fit as a husband to an Omega princess. The weight of the decree shifted in his chest, iron transmuting into purpose. A chance. Finally, a clear path to prove his worth, to build something lasting.
Around him, the court’s silence shattered into a cascade of whispers—shock, envy, scorn—a swarm of noise he willed himself to ignore. He pressed his fist to his chest and bowed.
