Chapter 3
The day the alliance delegation arrived, the pack grounds were buzzing with activity. The Lycan King, Maverick Graham, had organized a grand mark ceremony to welcome them, and the place was packed.
As I entered the hall, I ran into Eloise Montgomery, accompanied by Freya Wells.
I glanced at Freya, her swollen belly unmistakable even under her loose clothing.
When Eloise saw me, she paused, and her brow furrowed almost instinctively.
“A disgraced Lycan Princess like you, showing up here to humiliate yourself?” she said, her voice sharp.
Freya clung to my arm, leaning into me as if to claim her territory.
She smirked, her tone dripping with mockery. “Indeed, Your Highness. Everyone knows your reputation is ruined. Aren’t you just here to embarrass yourself and disgrace the pack?”
She covered her mouth with her hand, laughing, her eyes filled with malice.
I stood silently, my lips pressed together, not saying a word.
I shot her a cold glare and slashed her cheek with my claws.
Freya let out a startled cry, clutching her face.
Eloise finally snapped to life, stepping in front of Freya.
“What the hell, Eloise?” she growled, her eyes wide with anger.
I retracted my claws, giving the two of them a dismissive look.
“It seems I’ve been too lenient with you both. Have you forgotten who I am?”
“Disrespecting a Lycan Princess—how many heads do you think you have to spare?”
Eloise seemed momentarily stunned, clearly not used to seeing me so harsh.
Ignoring Freya’s murderous glare, I turned and walked to another part of the hall.
I took the stage amidst the music and dancing.
Dressed in a vibrant red gown, I moved with grace, my hips swaying to the rhythm. The Lycan Prince from the Ryan Pack, my intended mate, was visibly entranced.
Eloise had only just rushed in with Freya when I began my performance.
But when she noticed me on stage, she froze, completely captivated, ignoring Freya’s attempts to get her attention.
As the dance ended, I took my seat with elegance.
Two pairs of intense eyes locked onto me.
One belonged to the Lycan Prince from the Ryan Pack, my betrothed, and the other to Eloise.
But I only met the Lycan Prince’s gaze.
Maverick Graham, the Lycan King, seemed to notice the exchange and chuckled heartily.
“Prince Jase, are you pleased with the performance?” he asked.
The Lycan Prince smiled. “Very much so. But more than the dance, I admire the dancer.”
He continued, “I have a bold request, Your Majesty. Would you consider granting me this woman’s hand?”
Before the Lycan King could respond, a voice cut in sharply, “No.”
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