Chapter Three
The ballroom was filled with the lilting sounds of the string quartet, the soft golden lighting accenting the sparkling chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.
The front of the room was cleared for a dance floor, though this early in the evening it was still empty.
The edges of the room were covered with a mix of large, circular tables with cream coloured chairs decorated with a golden bow, and smaller cocktail tables where people stood around chatting.
Servers floated through the crowd with platters of drinks and canapes while the bar at the back was flooded with patrons. With a mix of shifters and other supernatural creatures, the delicacies were varied and questionable but they were still being enjoyed liberally.
"Are you ready for this?" Talia muttered, her voice low enough to stay hidden from prying supernatural ears around us.
The answer was a resounding 'no' but I couldn't say that, not when I was meant to be the leader.
Getting ready had been a rush with a lot of scolding from a dolled up Talia as we both struggled to catch any stray twigs from my hair. In the end, we managed to both look presentable.
Talia had tamed my windswept hair into woven braids, smaller, tighter braids interconnected with looser, wider ones that fell over my shoulder.
We both wore white gowns with Talia's a white silk shift draped perfectly over her chest and hips and mine a more intricate, lace gown that hugged my body.
My shoulders were bare but my arms were covered in snowflake patterned lace that reached over my hands.
We drew attention as we stepped inside, people immediately recognising us as Northern Circle.
The whispers started but I'd been expecting them. Since the wars ended, Northern Circle had stayed far away from Council packs and most of their alliances.
Instead, I'd trailed after my parents as they solidified alliances closer to home, forging relationships with other shifters and those who lived in the icy depths of our home. It had been great to learn about but the years of isolation meant there was a lot of work for me to do.
"Miss Brione, Miss Pasque, it's lovely to have you join us," a woman who I recognised from the Council meeting earlier greeted. Her hair was twisted into an elegant knot, her body dripping with jewels but her smile was surprisingly warm.
"We're delighted to," I answered, my head held high as Talia gave a polite greeting of a bowed head, tilting to the side for her neck to be slightly exposed. "This is a stunning event, my compliments to the Council for the organisation."
"Why thank you," she answered, beaming with pride as I searched my memory for the faces I'd studied before arriving. "I was heading the subcommittee this year and I think we've outdone ourselves."
"Truly," I complimented once more, the name on the tip of my tongue. "While I haven't attended others, I can't imagine more elegance. Hopefully I'll have the honour of attending another one of your events in the future."
I could feel the humor radiating from Talia, though her face stayed the composed calm we were taught to maintain.
"We'll see how your time here goes." There was a haughtiness in her voice that threatened to sting but my eyes stayed neutral despite the prod. "Well I must go greet the other guests."
"Of course, Alpha Beckett. It's been lovely." I returned her smile with a polite one of my own as she swanned off to lavish in more compliments.
The laughter was brimming in Talia's eyes as she looked down at me. "You're such a kissass," she teased in a whisper.
"Oh please, they thrive on that here. See how far I'd get without it."
"It's still funny to see," Talia insisted with a low voice, her eyes moving from me to survey the room. "When you can usually fight your way into people's hearts, seeing you bow down in fucking hilarious."
The frosty chill rushed over me, the slow breath from my nose a faint mist.
"I don't bow." My jaw was tight as I focused on locking down the swirl of frosty icy indignation.
Talia hummed, mirth dancing in her eyes as she quickly glanced my way before she went back to surveying the room.
I huffed a puff of frosty air. "I'm going to go mingle. I should probably pretend I want to be here."
Each conversation felt painful with sickly words and polite smiles that became more forced as the night wore on. The names swirled in a hazy fog that I knew would require some studying before my next meeting with the Council to make sure I could remember each interaction or risk embarrassment.
A piercing, burning heat followed me around the room, through each conversation punctuated with polite nods and stone faces. I felt like a bug under a magnifying glass, scorched by the sun. Yet each time I turned to find the eyes, I was met with nothing.
"And that was how I single handedly fought off a pack of rogues," the man finished, his story met with oohs and ahhs and a mix of sincerity. "Impressive, no?" he added, eyes set on me after my silence.
I nodded, searching for an appropriate response to the most ridiculous nonsense I had ever heard. "That was certainly a story."
Apparently that wasn't the correct reaction.
His face soured, the distaste tangible in the air as a few others in the group smothered their snickers. I should have just stayed silent. Stoicism was always the safest option.
"An impressive story," someone chimed in from next to me, thankfully diverting the attention away from my apparent faux pas.
This many hours into the evening, toeing the line between niceties and lies was exhausting and yet it was still too early to politely retire.
I'd thought my parents and the Elders had sent me as a test but I was beginning to realise it was simply because they had no desire to deal with these frivolities themselves.
At home, in the depths of winter, when nights stretch for weeks and months, there's no room for such excess. When prey is scarce and sacrifices need to be made, the hardships are real and not dressed up stories of old men who can't let go of their glory days.
Leaders sacrificed for their pack, they didn't do whatever this was.
"If you'll excuse me," I said to the group with another polite nod. I didn't miss the flash of relief on their faces as I turned away, right into the burning gaze that had been following me all night.
It was him.
The Alpha from the Council meeting, the wolf from the forest.
His tuxedo was perfectly tailored, black and silky like his carefully styled hair.
My body swayed closer, the steps taken without my consent as I yearned for the warm freshness of amber soaked pine.
Dark, chocolate brown eyes flashed amber as he locked on mine.
A face carefully sculpted, jaw still shadowed with a manicured beard, the man set my body on fire.
My mate.
It felt like floating, losing meticulously curated control as my body drifted towards him. His expression was unreadable, not stoic and hollow but so conflicted it was impossible to pin a single one down.
And then it all stopped.
Manicured nails slid around his arm, one hand resting on his forearm while the other clung to his bicep.
She was pretty and petite with honey brown hair and lightly tanned skin.
Her cheeks were flushed with a pretty blush, a dazzling smile as she batted her eyes at the diplomat they spoke with.
Her whole essence screamed of privilege and charm.
She matched them with her pretty gold jewelry and embellished peach gown. She belonged here.
I was too close when I froze, too close to go unnoticed.
Her eyes followed his and fell on me.
The saccharine glow didn't fade as she looked between us both, even as the realisation kicked in when her nose twitched at the involuntary pheromones that floated in the air.
"Dax," she said, her voice a light and sweet as her face portrayed. "You'll have to introduce us."
His body tensed impossibly more at her words, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
"Lyra, this is Chief Designate Brione from the Northern Circle," he said in that deep, velvety voice.
"The North Circle," she said, tilting her head to the side. "How interesting. I didn't think your people attended gatherings like this."
My face stayed stoney at the subtle insult. I couldn't figure out whether the slight was simply ignorance or a challenge. Whatever it was, I wasn't about to rise to it.
"They don't," he answered for me as I fought to keep my surprise down. "This isn't really their kind of place."
"Oh Dax," she said with a titter, softly tapping his chest with a lingering hand. "That's not a polite thing to say."
He shrugged, his eyes unwavering from mine as the heat seeped into my bones. "Polite or not, it's the truth."
I couldn't let it show, the fiery barb that pierced my chest at his words and the pain that scorched in its wake. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to meet the wolf that traded submission in play in the woods, the man who was meant to be my other half.
"Daxy," the girl said, eyes widening in shock despite the humour in her eyes and the beaming smile on her lips.
He shrugged once more, mouth set in a thin line. "You don't belong here."
His words pierced deep as the heat shattered and cracked the icy sheet over my heart.
"I don't know what you were expecting to find but you won't get it from me." His voice was sharp, his words barbed and the inevitability of his next words sank in my stomach like a lead balloon.
This was not happening. Not him, not here.
Each breath was stinging, the constricting band around me chest tightening as more and more prying eyes bore into me.
The blank poker face wasn't intentional anymore, just a blindsided instinct as my ears buzzed with a dizzying hum that burned into my brain.
"I'm not mating with someone like you."
My fingers were numb. I wasn't sure if I was still standing, the room was spinning.
"I reject you."
This was a whirlwind to write! So much subtext, so much politics. And that rejection!
It would have been nice for it to be a surprise but the title really gives it away...
Why do you think Dax rejected her?