Page 95 of Lycan’s Hunt

Chapter 40

• Aubrey •

A week later

The sunlight streaming through the windows of the grand hall casts a golden glow over the polished floors and high-vaulted ceilings. The air is alive with the sounds of movement—maids bustling about with fabrics, decorators hanging delicate floral arrangements, and the clatter of silverware being set for the rehearsal.

Normally, I would find the hustle and bustle overwhelming, but today, it feels different. There’s something almost surreal about it—like this strange calm before the storm, even though we all know what’s coming.

The council made the decision to go along with Soren’s plans. To the public, the official story is they were responsible for the rogue attacks and kidnappings as well as the trafficking. That they’ve been dealt with accordingly. No one is any wiser about King Alaric’s involvement, which means he won’t suspect a thing when he arrives for the wedding. Everything hinges on that.

But today isn’t about political plots or secret executions—it’s about preparations for our wedding. And if I’m being honest, a small part of me wants to savor this moment before everything changes again.

I’m strolling through the main hall, inspecting the towering floral arrangements, when I hear a familiar sound, a rapid patter of small feet on the stone floor.

“Aubrey! Aubrey!” Max’s excited voice rings out, echoing through the hall. I turn just in time to see him barreling toward me, his little face lit up with pure excitement. Behind him, Maribel follows at a more dignified pace, carrying what looks like a bundle of ribbons in her arms.

Max skids to a stop in front of me, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “I wanna help! Can I help?” he asks, practically bouncing on his toes.

I smile down at him, unable to resist his infectious excitement. “Of course, you can help, Max. What do you want to do?”

“I can be in charge of the rings!” he exclaims, holding out his tiny hands as if expecting me to hand them over right now. “I’ll keep them safe, I promise!”

Maribel, who has finally caught up to him, sighs in exasperation. “Max, we already have someone to carry the rings.”

“But I can do it better!” Max insists, puffing out his chest proudly. “I won’t lose them. I promise!”

I crouch down to his level, brushing a lock of dark hair out of his eyes. “I know you’d do a great job, Max, but we already asked someone else. How about you help decorate instead? We need someone very important to decide where all these ribbons should go.” Soren and I feel bad not allowing him to be part of the wedding service, but we need him close to his guard just in case things go wrong, they need to get him out of the way as quickly as possible.

Max’s face lights up at the suggestion. “Really? I get to decide?”

“Really,” I confirm. “And Grandma can help you.”

“Of course, someone has to keep you from tying ribbons to everything in sight,” Maribel chuckles, though a fond smile plays at the corners of her mouth.

Max immediately grabs her hand, dragging her toward one of the tables piled high with ribbons and flowers. “Come on, Grandma! We have to make it look perfect!”

I watch them go, feeling a warm flutter in my chest. Despite everything—the chaos, the danger, the uncertainty—moments like this make all the uncertainty worth enduring.

I turn back toward the far end of the hall, where Soren and Damian are standing over a large table covered in maps and diagrams. From the way Damian’s arms are crossed and the crease in Soren’s brow, I can tell they’re deep in discussion about something important.

As I approach, Soren peers up, his expression softening when he sees me. “Everything okay?”

“Max has taken charge of the ribbon decorations,” I say with a grin, nodding toward where Max and Maribel are now enthusiastically tying ribbons to anything that stands still long enough.

Soren chuckles, the tension easing from his shoulders for a moment. “At least he’s not trying to rearrange the seating placements.”

Damian snorts. “Give him time. He’s probably already plotting it.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” I warn playfully, stepping closer to Soren. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against his side.

“We were just finalizing some security measures for the wedding,” Soren explains. “We’ll have guards stationed around the perimeter and a few mixed in with the guests. If Alaric tries anything, we’ll be ready.”

“And Alaric? He’s really coming?”

Soren nods, his expression darkening slightly. “He confirmed his attendance this morning with Damian. Everything’s going according to plan.”

I swallow hard, the weight of what’s to come settling heavily on my shoulders. “Good,” I say, though the word feels hollow. “Let’s just hope it stays that way.”