Page 30 of The Forbidden Alpha

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The Hall sat fifteen minutes from the territory. A cathedral of dark stone that seemed to grow straight out of the canyon floor stood above its surroundings. Torches flickered in the wind, casting long, dancing shadows that made the very ground look like it was breathing. Gabe and Lilith headed in first, followed by Nikki and Mavy. We walked up the red carpet behind them.

Shane wrapped his arm around my waist as we crossed the threshold, and I let him. Walking in alone was not an option I had—not tonight.

I forgot to breathe.

The approach was designed to break you—a long, torchlit walkway flanked by Enforcers standing at attention, their faces frozen in masks of discipline. In their arms, silver-plated rifles loaded with wolfsbane bullets. The flames threw gold against onyx walls that rose on either side, pillars against the sky. It wasn’t a festival. It was a procession toward something ancient and hungry.

The stairs at the end were wide and black, each step carved from dark stone. I climbed them with Shane’s hand at my back, trying to pretend he wasn’t taking advantage of the lack of material there.

Then the ceiling opened up, and I stopped moving entirely.

There was no roof. Just the night sky, vast and unobstructed, the full moon just out of sight. The sparkling lights lit up the hall and sent a glow that the walls caught and held. Hundreds of wolves moved beneath it—gowns and tuxedos flashed. The air was thick with the scent of males ready to claim their mates.

Desert Moon hadn’t decorated for the Festival. They had simply opened their ceiling and let the Goddess do it for them. We reached the edge of the overlook, and I stopped entirely. Below us, the hall was a roiling sea of silk and muscle. Shane tugged at my waist, steering me toward the grand staircase. We began our descent into the mouth of the crowd.

As we reached the bottom, a ripple moved through the room before I understood the cause.

It started at the far end—a subtle shift in posture, heads turning, conversations dying mid-sentence. The crowd parted in an instinctive wave, and I followed the line of it.

The music died as he entered from the upper level, descending the staircase with the unhurried certainty of a man who had never once needed to announce himself. An Alpha. He was flanked by his inner circle, but the eye couldn’t linger on them. Everyone in the room had reorganized itself around a single point.

The mask glittered—black, severe, the iron spikes catching the light, a crown. Beneath it, his jaw was set, his shoulders filling the tuxedo, too large for the room around him. He moved through the crowd without acknowledging the heads dipping in his wake. His green eyes—the only unguarded things about him—moved across the room in a slow, methodical sweep.

Taking inventory.

I watched him from across the room and felt my pulse do something it had no business doing. Shane’s hold on me went rigid, but my eyes were still tracking the mask through the crowd.

Shane steered me away from our group, his body a barrier between me and the unmated wolves prowling the floor.

“Stay close,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.

I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. I just needed to get through this night. I followed him toward the long tables at the edge of the hall, desperate for something to do with my hands. The pastry table was a spread of dark decadence—spun sugar and deep chocolates.

I reached for a cream puff, my hand unsteady as I lifted it. The chocolate was dark and rich, melting across my tongue. For a fleeting second, it was pure bliss.

Then a scent hit me.

It was sweet and specific, cutting clean through the noise of the music and the heavy clouds of perfume. I looked down at my plate, but it wasn’t the food.

I went very still.

“Mate.”

A voice—not Nikki’s, not Mavy’s, but a voice from somewhere deep inside me—spoke from behind the cold wall I had spent ten years pressing my hands against.

For the first time in my life, something pressed back.

Chapter 17

Ethan

The transition from the war room to the ballroom was the slow tightening of a noose. Every step toward the celebration brought me closer to suffocation.

I stood at the threshold of the overlook, the spiked iron of my mask drawing attention as Odis intended. Below me, the Hall was a roiling sea of silk, muscle, and heavy male intent poking and prodding. To anyone else, it was a festival. To me, it was a room full of hidden daggers and visiting Alphas who would cut my throat for an inch of my territory. Tonight, I’d release every unmated male in this room. They would shift and run. Many would find their mates tonight. I battled against the hope of finding mine.

I took one step onto the grand staircase, my hand gripping the smooth onyx railing. Then, the air thinned.