Chapter 1 - The Betrayal in Velvet
The heavy oak doors of Castle Veyrath felt less like an entrance to a grand future and more like the threshold of an ancient vault. Kora adjusted the hem of her gown, her fingers tracing the golden stitches that Lady Aldwin had spent three sleepless nights finishing. The fabric was a soft, pale cream linen—far from the shimmering silks or rich velvets worn by the noble women filing into the grand hall, but every thread carried the warmth of the village cottage she called home.
“A fine dress doesn’t give a woman worth, Kora,” Lady Aldwin’s gentle voice echoed in her mind. “It only reminds foolish people to look long enough to notice what was already there.”
Kora took a deep breath, pressing her hand against her pounding chest. She held her single wooden trunk in one hand and her handwritten invitation in the other. For two long years, Dorian Ashvale—the handsome heir of Lord Aldrich Ashvale—had ridden down to her quiet village under the cover of dusk. He brought leather-bound poetry books, fresh mountain blossoms, and sweet promises spoken against the crook of her neck. He swore that her status as an unranked omega without a noble surname meant nothing to him. At the Crescent Moon Banquet, before the high nobility of Veyrath, he promised he would claim her publicly as his companion.
When she entered the central hall, the sheer scale of the celebration nearly took her breath away. Crystal chandeliers dripped with starlight-like illumination, and the scent of expensive wine and roasted meats hung thick in the air.
Near the stone fireplace, Dorian stood among a circle of high-ranking betas and alphas. He looked dashing in a midnight-blue tunic embroidered with silver thread. Kora felt a wave of relief and stepped forward.
“Dorian,” she called softly as she approached.
Dorian turned. For a fraction of a second, his eyes widened, and a flicker of something cold—a calculating, sharp panic—crossed his handsome features. It vanished so quickly Kora thought she had imagined it.
“Kora,” he said, stepping forward to take her hand. His lips brushed her knuckles, but his touch was cool, brief, and entirely devoid of warmth. “You look… well.”
“You look well?” Kora repeated inwardly, her heart sinking. No smile. No relief. No spark of the man who had whispered beneath the apple trees in her garden.
Before she could speak, Dorian gently took her elbow and led her away from the center of the hall, navigating toward a dimly lit side table near the corner pillars. “Stay here for now, Kora. The political tension tonight is high, and my father is in a delicate mood. I need to handle court protocol first.”
He didn't wait for her response. Turning on his heel, he strode back to the center of the floor, taking his place beside a woman who had just stepped out from the noble crowd.
She was breathtaking. Lady Saraphene of the Kairen Pack wore a dark emerald gown made of pure silk that flowed like liquid shadow. Silver moonstones sparkled along her collarbone, matching her pale, silver-blonde hair. As Dorian approached her, he leaned down, whispering something into her ear that made her throw back her head and laugh—a sound like ringing glass.
Kora stood alone by the pillar, her fingers tightly clutching the edge of the wooden table.
Silence suddenly fell across the great hall as Lord Aldrich Ashvale stood up, raising a golden goblet toward the grand balcony.
“Friends, nobles, and honored allies of Veyrath,” Lord Aldrich’s booming voice echoed through the vast stone chamber. “Tonight, as the full moon reaches its zenith, we celebrate not only our pack’s ancient strength, but the continuation of our bloodline. It is my proudest duty to announce that my son, Dorian Ashvale, has chosen the woman who will stand beside him as his companion!”
A breathless hush fell over the room. Kora’s breath hitched in her throat. For one fleeting, delusional second, her foolish heart whispered that he might look toward her, that this was all part of some grand gesture.
Lord Aldrich turned toward Lady Saraphene, his grin wide and proud. “Join me in welcoming Lady Saraphene of the Kairen Pack to our family!”
The hall erupted into thunderous applause and joyous cheers. Dorian turned to Saraphene, taking her hand and raising his goblet with a bright, triumphant smile.
He never looked at Kora. Not once.
The realization struck Kora like a physical blow, leaving her breathless. Two years of secret visits. Two years of stolen kisses and soft assurances. It was all a lie. She was never his intended companion; she was merely a pleasant distraction, a secret lower-class omega to keep him entertained until a politically advantageous match was finalized.
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A noblewoman standing near Kora glanced at her cream linen dress, then sneered softly and stepped away, as if humiliation were a contagious disease.
Kora’s eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her break. She pressed her palm against her chest, lifted her chin high, smoothed down the dress Lady Aldwin had lovingly stitched, and turned away from the grand hall.
