ATASHA’S POV
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The courtyard was colder than I expected. Crisp air clung to the stones beneath our feet, and a thin veil of mist still hung in the spaces between the old columns. Crimson Howlers Pack had gathered in full force, guards in formal armor lining the sides, attendants standing stiffly, and, at the very center, Alpha Jason himself.
He hadn’t changed much. Still tall, still sharp in the way only old wolves could be, with a presence that demanded attention. His expression, however, was unreadable. Like this whole greeting was nothing more than a formality he’d rather not bother with.
His gaze swept across us and, for the briefest moment,nded on me.
Just a nce. But it happened. And that was already strange.
In the past, Alpha Jason hadn’t looked at me at all. I could’ve been a shadow clinging to the wall and he wouldn’t have noticed. Back then, I was just an omega girl, wolfless and unremarkable. Not worth even a nod. But now, standing next to Cassian as his wife, a Princess Consort, that nce, short as it was, felt like a silent admission that my presence mattered now. Or… he was just wondering why I was still breathing.
Jason didn’t hold my gaze. He shifted his attention immediately to Cassian and offered a nod, nothing more.
“Wee to Crimson Howlers territory, Lord Cassian,” he said. His voice was smooth but clearly forced, like every word had to be pushed through his teeth. “I trust your journey wasn’t too harsh. We’ve arranged for yourfort during your stay.”
Cassian didn’t respond right away. He looked at Jason for a long moment, expression unreadable, then asked, casually, “Are you sick?”
I blinked, confused.
Jason’s brows twitched. “What does the Lord mean?” he asked.
Cassian tilted his head slightly, a slow smile forming on his lips. “If you’re unwell, you probably shouldn’t be out here. Wouldn’t want you infecting the rest of us.”
I felt the tension in the air change instantly.
Jason’s entire body went rigid. His jaw clenched so tightly I thought I heard the faint grind of his teeth. For a moment, it looked like he might explode right there in front of everyone, but he didn’t. Instead, he inhaled through his nose. “I am not sick, my lord. Thank you for your concern,” he said, voice stiff and low.
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Cassian just nodded, still smiling. “Ah,” he said, feigning relief. “Because I was starting to worry. You see, if you’re healthy, then I assume it was just poor manners that kept you from grecting the Princess Consort.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Alpha Jason’s gaze flicked toward me so fast I nearly missed it. And the look in his eyes… was something else. He looked like he’d swallowed something bitter and it refused to go down his throat. Still, he gave a shallow bow, one that barely counted.
“Greetings to the Princess Consort,” he said. The words sounded forced, like they pained him.
Cassian reached out and pped a hand on Jason’s shoulder, and I could tell it wasn’t gentle. “You’re learning,” he said, the smile never leaving his face. “But next time, you should mind your manners. You might not be so lucky. What if you run into someone worse than me?” He leaned in slightly. “You’d be dead already.”
Jason’s expression twisted. The anger there was impossible to hide now. His fists curled tight at his sides, and for a second, I thought he might snap.
But he didn’t.
Cassian chuckled under his breath like this was nothing more than an amusing exchange, then stepped forward with a smooth, unbothered air. “Shall we?” he said, motioning ahead. “Lead the way, Alpha.”
Alpha Jason led the way through the stone corridor, his strides rigid but calcted. The guards stationed along the hallway didn’t move or speak, simply watching us pass with expressionless faces and carefully masked curiosity. Every step echoed faintly off the walls, and I couldn’t help but notice the way the silence between Jason and Cassian stretched, tight, stretched like wire, the tension thick enough to trip on.
Eventually, we arrived at a set of tall, dark–wood double doors. Jason pushed them open both hands, revealing a grand dining hall beyond.
with
The room was enormous, its ceiling arched and supported by beams carved with ancient symbols of the Crimson Howlers lineage. Chandeliers made from twisted iron and ss hung from above, casting a warm golden glow across the stone walls. A fire roared in the hearth at the far end, crackling quietly, adding both heat and light to the room.
At the center stood a long rectangr dining table, made from polished ckwood and nked by high–backed chairs upholstered in deep red. The table could easily seat thirty people, maybe more. It was already set for a feast.
Polished silverware, bone–white dishes, and goblets carved with the Crimson Howlers crest lined every setting. The table was overflowing with food, roasted meats glistening with
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honeyed ze, baskets of fresh bread, boiled root vegetables soaked in butter, dark sauces that steamed from porcin bowls, and a disy of fruit so vivid it looked almost unreal.
Jason gestured toward the arrangement. “Everyone’s tired,” he said, voice still formal but more controlled now. “Let’s eat and then rest. There will be time to speak tomorrow.”
Cassian gave a casual nod. “Generous of you,” he replied, then looked over his shoulder. “Mendez. The rest of you, join us.”
His men hesitated only for a second before filing in. They spread out along the table, taking seats toward the far end.
To my surprise, Cassian pulled out a chair, not for himself, but for me.
He didn’t make a show of it. Didn’t look at anyone. Just stepped to the side, gripped the chair next to his own at the head of the table, and pulled it out with a single firm motion. When I didn’t move right away, he raised a brow slightly, just enough for me to realize he was waiting.
I blinked, caught between surprise and awkward gratitude, then nodded and stepped forward, lowering myself into the seat. He pushed the chair in slightly before settling in beside me, his expression unreadable.
Across the table, Alpha Jason had taken the seat to Cassian’s right, his lips drawn in a line too tight to be polite. Beside him sat Luna Carrie, his wife, dressed in muted red robes and wearing a neutral expression I didn’t trust for a second. To her right was a young man with sharp cheekbones, neatlybed dark hair, and a coldness in his eyes that reminded me too much of his father.
Caron McMahon.
The heir apparent of Crimson Howlers, the next Alpha in line. I had seen him before, once or twice, during formal events at Nightfall. He hadn’t spoken to me then. I doubted he would
now.
Alpha Jason raised a goblet of dark wine but didn’t drink. “The Crimson Howlers Pack is at your service, Lord Cassian,” he said smoothly. “Whatever you need to make your journey easier, we are prepared to provide. But tonight… we feast.”
He gestured toward the food as if it were a peace offering rather than a disy of power,
I nced down at my own te, suddenly aware of how hungry I was. The smell of roasted meat and spiced sauces was rich and inviting. I hadn’t eaten properly since yesterday. My stomach was beginning to tighten in anticipation. I tried to be subtle as I reached toward one of the serving spoons-
But before I could touch anything, Cassian moved.
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He reached forward without a word and began serving food onto my te.
First, he ced slices of roast meat. Then a spoonful of seasoned vegetables. He reached for the bread next,ying two pieces neatly beside the rest.
I could feel eyes on me.
Across the table, Jason’s expression didn’t flicker, but the twitch at the corner of his jaw betrayed him. Luna Carrie’s gaze slid toward me for a fraction of a second, then back to her cup. Caron looked directly at Cassian with something between disdain and curiosity, like he was trying to decide if the gesture was a threat or just arrogance.
I didn’t know what to do.
So I just sat there, silent, trying not to let the flush creeping up my neck show too much.
Cassian ced thest serving spoon down and leaned back in his chair like nothing had happened. He didn’t exin himself. He didn’t look at anyone. He just picked up his goblet and sipped casually, like it was a normal evening and the entire room wasn’t watching us closely, reading into everything.
“Thank you,” I muttered, lowering my gaze as I picked up a small piece of seasoned vegetable from my te. I brought it to my mouth without thinking, too hungry to care about the stares, too distracted by the tension in the room to notice anything else.
But the moment I tasted <i>it- </i>
Something was off.
My smile faded. My fingers stilled around the fork. The vor was wrong. Not just strange… familiar. My eyes snapped up, heart lurching as I locked eyes with Cassian.
He was already watching me, Smiling,
“Is there something wrong… Consort?” he asked, his voice smooth, too smooth.
And suddenly, I couldn’t tell if he was asking out of concern… or if he already knew the
answer.
Chapter <i>45 </i>