ADAM
The mont she stepped into the tent, everything else seed to blur.
Sage.
Every inch of her commanded attention—the fluid grace of her movents, the way the light from the hovering crystals caught in her hair, spilling faint gold across her shoulders. The gown she wore was soft blue, shimring like moonlight over water, and it clung to her curves as if it had been stitched onto her skin.
Every step she took was deliberate, confident, unhurried, yet every muscle in my body tightened as though I were standing before prey and temptation all at once.
My wolf stirred imdiately.
Mine.
The word was quiet, dangerous, and primal—echoing deep within , rising with every breath she took. It was ridiculous.
I clenched my jaw, forcing the beast back, but the pull only deepened when her scent reached —warm, a mix of lilac and faint smoke, an intoxicating contradiction that I couldn’t seem to shake since the first ti she had stood before .
She was beautiful, yes—but that wasn’t what unsettled most. It was the look in her eyes. That simring defiance that dared to command her and knew I couldn’t.
Seductress. Witch. Enigma.
All three fit her perfectly.
Still, the irritation that flashed across her face wasn’t lost on . I caught it as clearly as if she had voiced it. The faint tightening of her lips, the narrowing of her eyes as she took in the sight of the small, carefully selected crowd.
She had expected more—the chaos of the full court, the thrill of spectacle.
Had she wanted to cause drama? Probably.
The thought almost made laugh. Of course, she would.
I got to my feet. My movent drew the attention of those seated beside , and, out of habit or respect, the others followed suit, scraping chairs against marble flooring.
The air shifted, tense with uncertainty as the nobles exchanged looks—why were they standing for soone who wasn’t royal?
She noticed, of course. Sage noticed everything.
But my attention flicked to the figure still seated—Darius.
He hadn’t bothered to stand. Typical. Dressed in black that looked poured from shadow itself, he sat there like he owned the night, one hand loosely gripping a wine glass, lips curled in that lazy smirk that had irritated since the day he appeared. He looked both regal and predatory, the kind of man who thrived on chaos and silence in equal asure.
I forced my gaze back to Sage.
"The change in venue was necessary," I said, the words even and calm. "So of the people weren’t... pleased with the results of the contest."
It was true, though only partly. The real reason was the tension simring beneath the surface—too many alliances and grudges balanced on a blade’s edge. A single wrong word could set the night ablaze.
Even now, a select few were watching this livestream, wanting to know the prize she would ask for.
Sage’s gaze locked on mine, sharp and assessing. Then her lips curved. "You an you’re not king enough to handle your own people?"
The words hit like a spark to dry kindling.
Gasps rippled through the room. The nobles stiffened, their carefully schooled faces breaking into quiet horror. I
sla, her ever-loyal shadow, looked as though she wanted to sink through the floor from holding in her laughter.
And ?
I smiled.
I didn’t even an to. It was small, sharp, and fleeting—but it was there. Because sohow, her defiance thrilled more than it should have.
The next second, I snapped inwardly at my own absurdity. You’re smiling while she insults you in front of your court? Get yourself together.
My wolf only purred in amusent. She’s bold. I like bold.
I clenched my fists, ignoring him.
She brushed past the murmuring crowd, ignoring the seat set for her near the royal brides, and instead—of course—sat beside Darius.
My jaw tightened.
Two disrespectful people.
Three, if I added Isla, who promptly took the seat next to her.
Though, to be fair, the girl was a loyal shadow. Too loyal, in fact. Especially when she wasn’t with my gamma. That association was ant to yield information—little whispers about Sage’s magic, her training, her weaknesses. But so far, nothing. Isla was protective. Too much so.
And I was getting impatient.
My eyes returned to Sage. She leaned toward Darius, a faint, amused smile curving her lips. There was admiration in her expression—a spark I hadn’t seen before—and it made sothing primal twist inside .
I strained to hear what they were saying, but their voices were cloaked, sealed in a whisper of magic that even my wolf-enhanced senses couldn’t pierce.
The audacity.
Magic, used in my presence, under my roof, again.
My hands curled against my sides. The wolf snarled quietly inside , restless and territorial. Anger bled into jealousy before I could stop it. Why hasn’t she looked at once since walking in?
She had greeted the space, the nobles, even the flowers with her gaze—but not .
I cleared my throat, needing the focus to shift. My voice ca out steady, controlled. "Please, be seated," I said, gesturing to the others.
The nobles sat imdiately, grateful for the direction. I let the silence stretch just a mont longer before I began the address I had prepared.
"Ladies and gentlen," I said, letting my gaze sweep across them, not lingering on her though I wanted to. "I welco you all to this evening’s banquet. Tonight, we honor not only strength and valor, but restraint—sothing our people must rember in tis of change."
Their faces softened, so nodding, others murmuring in agreent.
Restraint.
If only I could practice what I preached.
I gave the closing words, called for celebration, then sat, finally allowing my muscles to relax. But my mind didn’t. Not when she was there—radiant, defiant, a storm I couldn’t ta or ignore.
Timothy rose next, his voice filling the tent as he began the formal prize-giving. I leaned back in my chair, watching, pretending to listen.
Darius was called first.
The little crowd offered polite applause as he stood, tall and composed, his expression unreadable. The attendant brought forth a velvet-lined tray bearing a ceremonial dagger etched with old runes, a thick pouch of gold coins, and a writ of land ownership, rich and valuable.
Darius took it all with a faint nod, not even feigning gratitude. No smile, no speech. Just that sa detached calm, the kind that told he didn’t care about rewards.
I didn’t expect less.
Since the contests last year, Darius had been an enigma—appearing, winning, disappearing again into shadow. Attempts to uncover who he was or where he ca from had led nowhere. My spies failed. The maids I sent his way returned empty-handed, and the investigators ca back with stories that contradicted each other.
The man was a ghost in a living body.
Almost as intriguing as Sage.
Almost.
But Sage was different. More dangerous. Because she wasn’t just skilled—she was unpredictable. And despite that, or maybe because of it, my wolf wanted her.
Females were usually easier to bend to will—malleable, predictable, responsive. But she wasn’t. She didn’t flinch, didn’t bend, didn’t submit to power or intimidation.
Which only made want her more.
I didn’t need to be told that she didn’t feel the bond between us. Witches rarely did. Their blood muted it, drowned it out. But I felt it. Every damn second.
The pull that dragged toward her like gravity.
Timothy finished announcing Darius’s winnings, and I finally turned fully toward her.
"And now," I said, my voice echoing softly beneath the canopy, "Lady Sage."
The murmurs quieted. All eyes turned to her.
She looked up, calm and unreadable, her hand still resting on the table near her untouched wine.
"It’s your turn," I said. "Tell us, what would you like for your prize?"
A collective ripple of surprise went through the nobles. This wasn’t how it was done. Normally, prizes were predetermined—formal, predictable, written in advance.
"My lord," one of the elder nobles began hesitantly, "surely that isn’t protocol—"
I lifted a hand, silencing him.
"This year’s contest was different," I said, my gaze never leaving Sage. "She will go further to expand the protective do in exchange." Did they think I added the land for Darius for naught?
Another murmur. Agreent from so, doubt from others.
"She," I added quietly, my tone final, "is the one with more magic. The extension depends largely on her."
That silenced them. Even the nobles who doubted her power couldn’t argue with what they’d witnessed during the contest.
I ignored their stares and turned fully to her again.
"So," I said, my voice softer this ti, the edge of command replaced with sothing I couldn’t quite na, "what do you want as your prize, Sage?"
The silence that followed was thick enough to feel.
My heart, traitorous thing, beat faster.
Because I didn’t know what her answer would be—and the uncertainty thrilled and terrified in equal asure.
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