The day of the ceremony arrived with noise and urgency.
The house had been preparing, and now every corridor carried movement.
Flowers were arranged along the main hall, lanterns polished until they reflected light like glass, silver trays lined across long tables.
The lady of the house wanted everything perfect.
Evryn and Brinna were summoned early.
The lady stood before her large mirror, examining fabrics and jewels while giving instructions without pause.
Evryn adjusted the fall of silk along her shoulders, while Brinna secured delicate clasps behind her neck.
Auren followed them quietly to the chamber but did not enter.
He remained outside the door, leaning against the wall, his arms folded.
From inside, he could hear Evryn’s softer voice as she spoke to the lady.
She sounded different in that tone, respectful, calm, almost gentle.
She was soft when she chose to be.
The door opened suddenly.
Evryn stepped out first and nearly walked into him.
“Auren,” she said with a faint frown, “you are my assistant, not my guard.
You could have waited downstairs.”
He straightened slightly but did not move far.
Before he could answer, the lady stepped into the hallway.
Auren inclined his head politely in greeting.
Evryn’s expression did not change much, though she felt Auren’s presence beside her more sharply now.
The lady studied him briefly before smiling.
“I didn’t know I had such a handsome servant in my house,” she said lightly.
“You have more, my lady,” Evryn replied with a polite smile.
The lady laughed softly.
“Then I should see them,” she said before moving toward the hall.
Evryn folded her arms and looked at him coolly, though a faint heat touched her cheeks.
“Don’t let one comment make you arrogant,” she warned.
“Arrogant?” he repeated, the word sounding like a low, smooth vibration in the quiet air.
He took one measured step closer.
He didn’t crowd her, but the sudden shift narrowed the world down to just the two of them.
The scent of his presence…something like cold rain and ancient wood…surrounded her.
“I don’t need a compliment to know my worth, Evryn,” he said evenly, his silver eyes locking onto hers with a piercing intensity.
“But if my confidence troubles you…
I can certainly pretend I didn’t hear it.”
He leaned in just a fraction.
“Unless” he added, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, “you were hoping to keep those observations all to yourself.”
Then he stepped back again, composed as ever, leaving the tease hanging between them like a challenge.
Evryn remained perfectly still until he disappeared down the corridor.
Only then did she release the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Her hand moved to her face for a moment, brushing her cheek as if checking the warmth there.
“Incredibly arrogant,” she muttered under her breath.
The evening arrived with music and light.
The main hall filled with guests dressed in rich fabrics and jewels.
Servants moved between them carrying drinks and trays of food.
Evryn and Brinna worked through the crowd gracefully, serving and adjusting details.
Ray remained close to the guests, smiling easily, speaking confidently.
Auren stayed in the shadows.
He clung to the outer corridors and the deep, arched recesses where the light of the chandeliers couldn’t reach.
He was a predator in a house of sheep, and too many of these guests had visited his court.
One familiar face, one wrong glance at his silver eyes, and the game would be over.
From his position behind a marble column, he scanned the room, his gaze instinctively tracking the back of Evryn’s head.
That was when he saw him.
Ray was tucked into a side alcove, partially shielded from the main floor by heavy velvet curtains.
He wasn’t alone.
A woman in a gown of shimmering emerald stood pressed against him, her jewelry catching the stray light.
Ray’s hand was at her waist, fingers digging into the fabric with a familiarity that was practiced and easy.
Then, he leaned down and kissed her…a slow, lingering move that showed no fear of being caught.
Auren’s jaw tightened until it ached.
He dragged his hand down his face, his fingernails nearly scratching his skin as he forced his body to remain still.
The spell beneath his ribs began to hum, a low, vibratory warning.
It wasn’t reacting to physical danger this time.
It was reacting to the betrayal.
It was reacting to the fact that the woman it was bound to protect was being made a fool of by a man not worth the dirt on her boots.
“Where are you, Abby,” he murmured, his voice a ghost of a sound beneath the music.
He needed the spell broken.
He needed it gone before his restraint snapped entirely.
Because the more he stood in the dark, watching Evryn work herself to exhaustion for a future with a man who didn’t deserve her shadow, the more he wanted to step into the light and end it.
He didn’t know if it was the magic or his own cold fury, but he knew one thing: he was starting to hate Ray more than he had ever hated the wizard who cursed him.
The music grew louder as the evening deepened.
Evryn moved between guests with steady hands, her smile polite, her posture straight.
She did not search for Ray.
She did not need to.
She knew his habits better than anyone.
When celebrations came, so did his wandering attention.
Evryn carried the tray with a focus that was purely mechanical.
When the young maid whispered the truth about the west alcove, Evryn’s fingers didn’t tremble; they turned white.
She walked toward the corridor.
She didn’t hurry.
She didn’t want to give Ray the satisfaction of a panicked arrival.
But when she saw them…the casual way his hand sat on that woman’s waist, the comfortable ease of his betrayal…the quiet that settled over her was more chilling than any scream.
He will never change, she thought.
And I will never beg.
She turned away, her pride rising like a fortress.
Her eyes scanned the dark corners, the places where light feared to tread, until she found the silver glint of Auren’s eyes.
He was already watching.
He looked like he was vibrating with a suppressed, lethal energy.
She stopped in front of him.
“I don’t want to be a victim in this relationship,” she said, her voice a sharp blade.
“I won’t allow it.
Not to myself.” She looked up at the king hidden in a servant’s coat.
“Will you stand still if I use you for a moment?”
Auren’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes flared.
“Make it worth it,” he replied.
Evryn didn’t wait.
She grabbed his collar with white-knuckled intensity and pulled him down to her level.
The kiss was a collision…a desperate, jagged meeting of lips fueled by her heartbreak and the fire of her defiance.
She wasn’t just kissing Auren; she was incinerating her past, her grief, and the life she had once known.
Auren didn’t just stand still.
The second her lips met his, a low, primal growl vibrated in his chest.
His hand clamped onto her waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of her dress with a possessive strength that yanked her flush against the hard planes of his body.
He was acutely aware of Ray standing just feet away; he could feel the man’s stunned gaze like a physical heat against his skin.
With a dark, triumphant intent, Auren deepened the kiss, his tongue forcing its way past her lips to claim her with an intensity that was far from a servant’s devotion.
It was a king taking what was his.
Inside, Auren was fighting a losing war with his own control.
The moment he tasted her…sweet, fierce, and entirely human…the iron discipline he had spent centuries perfecting began to crack.
The contact was electric, sending a jolt through the spell in his chest that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with hunger.
He wanted to devour her, to lose himself in the friction of her skin against his.
His other hand slid upward, his palm grazing the curve of her hip before tangling firmly in the hair at the nape of her neck to tilt her head back, exposing her throat.
Evryn let out a soft, broken sound against his mouth, her own hands flying to his chest before sliding up to bury themselves in his dark hair.
She pulled him closer, diving into his unnatural warmth as if it were the only thing keeping her anchored to the earth.
Across the hall, the world stopped for Ray.
The glass in his hand nearly shattered.
The “loyal” girl, the “safe” choice, was being consumed by the very man he had tried to belittle.
When Auren finally broke the kiss, he lingered, his forehead against hers, his scent filling her head.
Evryn stepped back, her chest heaving, her fingers dragging down his chest as if she were trying to catch her balance in a world that had just tilted.
She didn’t look at Ray.
She didn’t need to see his face to know he was destroyed.
She simply turned and walked away, her spine straight, leaving a wake of silence behind her.
Auren watched her go.
Only when she was safe did he turn his head.
Ray was standing under the lanterns, his face twisted into something monstrous, his ego bleeding out on the polished floor.
The “wolf” in him was baring its teeth.
Auren didn’t say a word.
He didn’t need to.
He simply turned his back on the hall and walked out toward the dark, whispering edge of the forest.
He knew the sound of Ray’s footsteps behind him.
He knew the weight of the man’s rage.
And as Auren stepped into the shadows of the trees, a cold, dark satisfaction settled over him.
The night was long, the forest was deep, and Auren was done playing the servant.