“Alright, go,” she said.
“I’ll wait for a moment.”
He nodded.
No kiss.
No touch.
Just a nod.
Then he opened the door, checked the hallway, and slipped out quickly.
Erin remained where she was.
For several seconds, she simply stared at the closed door.
Something was off with him.
She could feel it now that the rush of seeing him alive had settled.
It was in the way he had avoided her eyes.
The way he wanted distance.
The way his answer about waiting had come with relief instead of frustration.
But war did stupid things to soldiers.
That was what people said, wasn’t it?
War changed men.
Maybe Garrick had seen too much.
Erin looked into the mirror and saw herself under the soft bathroom lights: sequins shining, lips pressed tight.
She smoothed her dress, lifted her chin.
She waited a few moments more, then headed back out.
The music had lowered by the time she reached the arena hall.
Kyllian had called everyone to order, his voice carrying easily over the gathered soldiers and guests.
.
Erin slipped in through the side entrance and kept to the back, hoping no one had noticed her absence.
She made her way stealthily along the wall.
At the front of the hall, Lyra stood beside their father.
Usually Erin would stand on his other side but they had started without her so she remained where she was.
“I promised the bravest soldier a reward before we went to war,” Kyllian said.
The arena hall settled at once.
“I choose to do it publicly,” he continued, “so you all can see that I keep my word.”
Her gaze found Garrick near the soldiers’ section.
He stood straighter at once, as if the attention of the room had slid over his shoulders.
He looked different tonight.
Victory had polished him.
He adjusted the front of his suit jacket.
Erin smiled.
Her Garrick.
Alive.
Celebrated.
Finally seen.
“Gamma Garrick, please step forward.”
The hall erupted.
The sound rose to the high ceiling.
A few of Garrick’s men howled his name.
Garrick made his way to the front of the hall.
Erin’s smile widened.
She was proud of him.
Garrick stopped before the platform and bowed deeply.
Kyllian looked down at him.
“News reached me even before the official report…I heard of your relentlessness and your tenacity. I heard how you took command when others fell. I heard how you held your line when the situation looked bleak and how you refused to surrender ground even when the dragonians pressed hard.”
“You did not give up. Because of your courage, many of our soldiers came home who might not have.”
“I thank you for your service,” Kyllian said.
Another wave of applause rolled through the hall, but Kyllian lifted one hand and the sound lowered.
“And so, I bestow upon you the position of Commander of the werewolf army.”
A gasp went through the crowd.
Erin’s eyes widened.
Commander.
Beside Kyllian, Lyra looked impressed.
Kyllian continued, voice booming over the noise.
“You will also be ordained by tradition as the Alpha of the Silverhowl Pack, replacing our fallen soldier.”
The soldiers began clapping again.
Garrick bowed graciously.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, for the honour.”
Kyllian stepped closer to the edge of the platform.
“And…as promised, tell me whatever you want, and I shall make sure it is granted.”
This was what everyone had been waiting for.
The reward.
The wish.
The moment where a soldier could ask for land, wealth, a house in the capital, a private estate.
Garrick lifted his head.
“Your Majesty,” he began, “I would like to thank you once again for your favour. I still cannot believe you find me worthy.”
“Do you have a request prepared?” Kyllian asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Garrick lowered himself to one knee.
Erin’s heart stopped.
No.
No, no, no.
He was not.
He could not be.
Not now.
Not after she had told him they needed to wait.
Garrick bowed his head.
“I beg you, my lord, my alpha, my king,” he said, loud enough for the entire hall to hear, “to grant me your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Erin’s eyes widened.
The absolute fool.
She could feel people turning.
Could feel curious gazes snapping from Garrick to the royal family.
Oh, shit.
Erin stared at Garrick, her pulse thundering in her ears.
She had just told him to be patient, didn’t she?
Did the man suffer a head injury during the war?
Was he concussed?
Had dragonian fire burned away the part of his brain responsible for comprehension?
What in the world was he thinking?
Her gaze darted to Kyllian.
Her father had not moved.
Oh, her father is going to be mad….
“I do have two daughters, Garrick,” Kyllian said.
“You will have to be specific.”
Garrick had spoken too broadly.
He would say her name now.
He lifted his head.
“I request the hand of your daughter, Princess Lyra.”
It was safe to say, in that moment, that Erin’s eyes widened beyond natural proportions.
Her body forgot how to behave.
Her spine locked.
Her hands went cold.
It was as if every thought in her head had collided at once, burst into flames, and taken the English language with it.
Princess Lyra.
Lyra.
Not Erin.
Lyra.
“What?!” Erin snapped.
But the hall had already erupted.
Her gaze remained fixed on Garrick, still kneeling before the platform.
“What in the actual fuck?!” Erin snapped once more.
This time, she started pushing forward, cutting through the bodies around her.
Kyllian, chuckled.
“I should have guessed,” he said, looking down at Garrick, “since Princess Erin already has a mate.”
That sentence hit Erin like a slap.
Her mate.
Magnus.
Everything she had shoved aside for Garrick came rushing back, mocking her in perfect order.
Kyllian continued, unaware that his eldest daughter was currently experiencing several emotional deaths at once.
“I promised to give you your heart’s desire, Garrick, but this is not entirely up to me. Princess Lyra does have a say.”