Page 29 of Luna Rising

My feelings for Zeno didn’t change how I felt about Stavros, and jealously burned in my gut every time Iliana said the prince’s name. I hated her with the same passion that I loved him.

The other couple who’d already bonded, Kassandra and Sabina, hadn’t enjoyed the pack selection and had little to say on the matter. Though, Kassandra pretended otherwise any time Iliana was around, wanting to get in good with the Queen of Wolves.

The royal page led Zeno and me through the palace, all the way to the king's entrance to the royal arena that was built specifically for the last challenge of the games. King Orrin waited for us in his box, high above the stands.

Down below, men and women took turns sparring. The king gestured for us to sit on either side of him.

“It has come time to form your pack,” King Orrin said. He glanced between Zeno and me. “This is a heavy responsibility. Your pack will be your family. They will fight for you, die for you if necessary.” He focused on Zeno. “Your beta is your second-in-command. I took the liberty of selecting a small group of worthy candidates.”

The herald standing near the entrance blew his horn three times. Everyone in the arena froze. The king stood and cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice boomed through the amphitheater.

“I invite all beta candidates to the center of the arena.” He made a sweeping gesture with his and sank back onto his throne.

Ten men obeyed the veiled order. I watched, truly seeing their faces for the first time. With my new wolf's vision, I could count their freckles if I were so pleased. I knew these men. They’d all competed in the games, except for one.

“That is Julian.” The king bestowed a coveted smile on me. “He happens to be my favorite.”

“Why wasn’t he a competitor?” Zeno asked as a man dressed in royal livery joined the beta candidates.

“Prisoners were not eligible.” King Orrin laced his fingers and rested his joined hands on his stomach. “As a fae, he lacked discipline. As a wolf, he has no choice but to obey his alpha.”

“Are there other prisoners?” I asked in the sweet voice I’d mastered and used during social engagements.

King Orrin patted my hand. “Yes, dear. They were most eager to trade their sentence and their magic to become pack wolves.”

Bile crept up my throat. Stavros had told me the truth about the games, about how the line between winners and losers was thin. I’d expected to see familiar faces in the arena. Using criminals to round out the packs, however, that came as a shock.

A flash of light in the arena caught my attention. Julian and his opponent shifted on cue. They were both massive brown wolves, though notably smaller than the alphas. Both candidates fought as if their lives depended on the outcome, viciously attacking one another. Blood and fur littered the arena floor long before the match ended.

Zeno watched the fight with obvious interest. I let my mind wander, only partially listening when the king listed off each shifter’s attributes and faults, like these men were nothing more than prized livestock. It didn’t surprise me when Zeno declared Julian his beta without seeing the others tear each other apart. I appreciated the unintentional kindness because I had no interest in witnessing more of these brawls than necessary.

“Wonderful choice.” King Orrin nodded approvingly. He turned his attention my way. “What do you think of Julian, Zosia?”

My opinion on the matter held no weight. Zeno made that obvious with his unilateral decision. This wasn’t our pack. It was his pack. He let me choose decorations for our new home. When we discussed books, he listened to my interpretations even if they didn’t match his own. But this, the first important decision we should have made as an alpha couple? He had no interest in consulting with me or listening to my thoughts.

Neither did King Orrin. He often asked questions like this of the women, testing us and our mate bonds. There was only one right way to answer.

“He fights beautifully.” My sweet smile appeared effortlessly on my lips. “I look forward to him joining us at the palace.” Peering around the king at Zeno, I added, “Julian is an excellent selection, darling.”

The beta contenders left the arena as more hopefuls entered. There were so many of them. Hundreds of fae the king had turned into wolves. A part of me must have known and chosen to remain naïve.

Who did you think would make up your pack?

“You will select fifty pack members now. Once all the couples have completed their bonding ceremonies, the alphas will divide the remaining wolves among themselves,” the king explained. “Choose your females with care. They will mother the next generation of wolves.” His gaze swung in my direction. “Just as you will nurture Zeno’s future heir. It would be nice to hear you’re decorating the nursery by winter solstice.”

The only place Zeno and I truly connected was the bedroom. We understood each other in those intimate moments. He never asked about Stavros, or if I came to our marital bed as pure as my white wolf implied. He made me feel special, like I mattered, which was a rarity these days. Sex was the only time I didn’t have to pretend or fake anything. Zeno always made sure I climaxed and cuddled and talked openly afterwards. I had found space in my heart for him that had nothing to do with the mate bond.

Until that moment, the idea of children seemed so far in the future. The winter solstice was only six months away. I experienced a moment of panic before a thought occurred to me. Few women in the Valley held any true power, and those who did all had one thing in common: They had given an important man a son.

“That is my wish, as well,” I told the king.

“I would like to see the women first, if His Majesty agrees?” Zeno interjected, focus on the arena floor.

King Orrin nodded. “Very wise.”

The herald blew his horn again, and the king stood and called all the women to the arena floor. Oddly, he directed his man on the ground to start with the lowest ranked fighters. Two scarily thin women came forward.

My mouth went dry. I gripped my hands tightly in my lap to stop them from shaking. This had to be a bad dream, a nightmare even. No, this is punishment, I realized. It had to be. That was only the explanation for why my sister Bettina stood in the center of the arena, facing an opponent.

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