It was true, sort of, but still…
She knew. Even before I did. She knew who I really was, and it seemed like she found me lacking.
I pull my shoulders back, channeling the energy I would bring to my pit fights. Our roles have changed.
I will not let her see me as weak or uncertain.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “Matron Alienor said this was just a welcome meal for the Sovereign Alpha and her party. But you know I didn’t exactly grow up attending fancy dinners. If I’m breaking some sort of Bonded or court protocol at any point, could you let me know?”
Venna pats me on the back as we walk. “We’re on it.”
When my friends and I enter the formal dining room, five people are alreadyseated. Everyone stands in deference when they see me. There are only riders in here tonight; Anassa has taken the wolves of the traveling party out for a welcoming hunt.
Nothing says “glad to see you” like violently tearing apart prey together.
The Sovereign Alpha is the last to stand, of course, and she does so with a loud scrape of her chair that echoes through the room.
She wears a perfectly tailored deep green formal jacket with matching trousers. Her graying brown hair with its bloodred streak is pulled into a tight bun, and her expression is stern—although it probably always is.
Like mother, like son.
Her appearance declares to everyone: I’m powerful and in command here.
With a start, I realize that Sovereign Alpha Siegrid has seated herself at the head of the table. Maybe we riders are in for some violence tonight as well.
I swallow my immediate spark of resentment and say, “Welcome, everyone.”
Siegrid’s eyes dart to the crown I wear. At the sight of it, so long hidden, her nostrils flare and her eyes go slightly glassy. I have the sense this is a remarkable show of emotion from her.
Then Siegrid purses her lips and inclines her head.
“Queen Sturmfrost,” she says. “We came as soon as possible.” She turns, holding her palm toward those accompanying her. “Your Kryptos Alpha, Hannelore Woodward.”
On Siegrid’s left side is a flinty-eyed older woman with a blue streak in her hair. She’s shorter than Siegrid but matches her in severity.
“Your Phylax Alpha, Tormun Belrose.” He stands to Hannelore’s other side, a hulking man with round features, prominent eyebrows, and a tawny streak.
“And, of course, you know Egith.” My Strategos Beta, Egith, is to Siegrid’s right. She has deep brown skin and closely shorn dark hair with a hint of a silver streak.
Warmth fills me at the sight of the woman. Egith was tough on me as my instructor but never unreasonably so. In fact, given how resistant I was to becoming Bonded and accepting Anassa, she had remarkable patience. Ourpack Gammas are in charge at the front while Egith is here, but we’ll both stay in contact with them.
“I’m really glad you could come,” I tell her.
She nods, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Of course, I had to witness the incredible transformation of my misfit commoner Rawbond into our long-lost queen.”
Standing next to Egith is a woman I don’t recognize, and her presence briefly paralyzes me.
She’s probably the most stunningly beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
The woman has porcelain skin and curly, thick, vibrantly red hair. It’s a color I’ve never seen in nature, and it seems to almost shimmer in the candlelight of the room. Her nose is pert, framed by glittering emerald-green eyes, and her lips are full.
Even though she looks like she might be shorter than me, her proportions are wild. Everything about her is long. Her legs. Her lashes. Her slender neck. I’ve never seen the wordelegantembodied so wholly in a person before.
My eyes catch on the tawny streak in her hair. Phylax, then. I wonder why she’s here. Is she a Beta?
Whoever she is, she’s mesmerizing.
As if reading my thoughts, Siegrid continues, “This is Noemi, the daughter of Lord Eisenfall.”
