Chapter 5 - The First Shift & The Royal Ball
Three days later, the Citadel hosted the Grand Winter Solstice Ball. It was a mandatory gathering for all vassal packs under the Northern Crown—a night of feast, political maneuvering, and celebration.
The grand ballroom was a spectacle of ice-sculptures, gold chandeliers, and hundreds of nobility clad in expensive silks and furs.
At the edge of the upper balcony, hidden behind silk curtains, stood Lena.
She looked unrecognizable. She wore a heavy floor-length gown of deep emerald velvet, trimmed with white mink fur. Her silver-blonde hair was styled in intricate braids interlaced with diamond dust. But the greatest change was not her clothes—it was her posture. She stood tall, her shoulders back, her eyes calm and radiant with the newfound authority of her lineage.
Beside her, Kale leaned down, whispering near her ear. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," Lena said, a cool smile touching her lips. "Let them see."
The royal horns blasted across the ballroom, instantly cutting off all conversations below.
"Announcing His Supreme Majesty, Alpha King Kale!" the herald’s voice echoed. "And His Betrothed, Lady Lena of the First Coven, the Moon-Blessed!"
As the doors swung open, Kale and Lena stepped onto the grand staircase, walking down side by side.
The ballroom fell into dead silence.
Every lord, lady, and warrior stared up at Lena in utter shock. The weak, sickly girl who had arrived days ago was gone. In her place stood a woman radiating an ancient, quiet dominance that made even the strongest Alphas in the room feel an instinctive urge to bow.
Among the crowd at the foot of the stairs stood two unexpected guests: Alpha Theron and Marcus of the Silverpaw Pack, who had been summoned to the capital under royal decree.
Marcus’s glass of wine slipped from his hand, shattering on the polished floor.
His mouth hung open. He stared at Lena, his eyes wide with a mix of shock, lust, and profound regret. She was breathtaking. The aura surrounding her was richer and purer than anything he had ever encountered.
As Kale and Lena reached the main floor, the nobles parted like the sea. Marcus, driven by a desperate, foolish impulse, stepped out of line and blocked their path.
"Lena..." Marcus breathed, his voice trembling. "Is... is that really you?"
Kale’s arm shifted slightly, ready to crush the young Beta where he stood, but Lena placed a gentle hand on Kale’s forearm, stopping him.
She stepped forward, looking down her nose at her former fiancé. "You will address me as Your Highness, Marcus."
Marcus swallowed hard, dropping to one knee out of fear, though his eyes remained fixed on her face. "Lena... please. I was tricked! I didn't know about your lineage! Alpha Theron forced me to go through with the rejection! I... I still care for you. My wolf remembers our promise!"
He reached out his hand, foolishly trying to touch the hem of her gown.
Lena didn't flinch. She simply looked at him with icy indifference.
"Your wolf chose to throw me to the executioners for sport," Lena said, her voice ringing clearly across the silent hall. "You called me weak. You called me defective."
She took a step closer, letting a small fraction of her Moon-Blessed aura spill out. The sheer weight of her power pressed down on Marcus like a mountain, driving his face flat into the cold floorboards.
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"You are nothing to me, Marcus," Lena whispered coldly. "And you never were."
She walked right past his prostrate body, her velvet dress sweeping over his hand, leaving him humiliated before the entire nobility of the realm.
