I take one steadying breath before stepping out into the corridor with Mayla at my side.
The castle is quiet in that early morning after chaos way, like it's holding its breath. Sunlight pours in through tall arched windows, turning the stone floors warm and gold beneath our feet. My pulse is still a little uneven, my nerves humming just under my skin, but Mayla walks like she belongs here because duh, she does. Confident. Grounded. Unbothered.
"You ready?" she asks, glancing at me with a knowing smile.
"As I'll ever be," I mutter, which earns a soft laugh.
We turn a corner, and then the dining room opens up in front of us.
I stop short.
It's massive, longer than the Clearwater pack hall by at least three times and breathtaking in a way that feels intentional, like this room was built to remind everyone exactly who holds power here. A long polished table stretches through the center, carved from dark wood so smooth it reflects the light from the towering chandeliers overhead. Silver and crystal settings are being carefully arranged by staff, white linens crisp and perfect, like they've never known a wrinkle in their lives.
Tall windows line one wall, sheer curtains fluttering slightly in the morning breeze, revealing rolling green hills beyond the castle grounds. Banners hang between stone pillars, each bearing the royal crest. The air smells like fresh bread, citrus, and something warm and comforting I can't name.
And everyone is already here.
Kieran sits near the head of the table, relaxed but unmistakably commanding, dressed in dark, tailored clothes that scream king without him having to say a word. Callen is standing beside him, posture easy, already mid conversation with Enoch. Cameran is there too and the moment her eyes land on me, it's over.
"SAM!"
She launches herself at me like a missile.
I barely have time to brace before she slams into me, arms wrapping tight around my shoulders as she squeals loud enough to echo off the stone walls. "Oh my Goddess, look at this place! This castle is HUGE. Like, ridiculously huge. I got lost twice just trying to find the bathroom, and I swear one of the hallways led to another hallway that led to…"
"Cam" I laugh, hugging her back just as tightly, relief washing through me. Seeing her here, safe, smiling, alive, it steadies something inside me I didn't realize was wobbling.
She pulls back just enough to grab my shoulders, eyes shining. "And YOU. You look like a whole royal fever dream. Are you okay? Did you sleep? Did he snore? Does he…"
My gaze drops.
Right to her neck.
My brain short circuits.
"Cam," I blurt, cutting her off mid ramble, pointing at the unmistakable dark mark just beneath her jaw. "Your neck."
There's half a second of silence.
Then Cameran squeals.
"I KNOW!" she practically shrieks, clapping her hands before throwing herself at me again. "Can you believe it?! Fated mate sex is NO JOKE, Sam. Like, absolutely feral. Ten out of ten would recommend it, especially with a Gamma who looks like that. Fucking hell, let me tell you what he ca do with his tong…."
"CAMERAN," I hiss, laughing and mortified at the same time as a few heads turn in our direction.
She pulls back, grinning unapologetically. "What? It's biology. Perfectly normal, just how the Goddess intended"
Before she can say anything else thank the Moon Goddess Kieran stands.
My breath catches automatically, traitorous heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again.
He walks toward me with calm purpose, eyes softening the moment they meet mine. "Samantha," he says quietly. "May I steal you for a moment?"
Cameran waggles her eyebrows. "Ooooh, go. I'll just… be over here. Existing. With my mate. Fated mate. The Gamma." She grabs Enoch's arm possessively for emphasis.
Rolling my eyes, I smile at her, enjoying her happiness.
Kieran leads me a few steps away, close enough that I can still feel the presence of the others, but far enough that his voice drops. "Did you sleep well?" he asks, genuinely concerned.
"I…yeah," I lie lightly. "Eventually."
His thumb brushes over my knuckles where he's holding my hand, grounding me in a way that makes my chest ache. "I'm glad," he murmurs. "I didn't want to overwhelm you."
"You didn't," I say quickly. Then softer, more honestly, "I'm just… adjusting."
His gaze searches my face, like he's reading between every line. "If you need anything," he says, "you come to me. Always."
I nod, even as unease curls in my stomach.
Because I feel them.
The eyes.
Female staff members move quietly around the room, setting plates, pouring water, but I can feel their attention sharp and heavy on us. On him. On me. Curiosity. Appraisal. Judgment. Something colder underneath.
Kieran either doesn't notice,or doesn't care, I am not sure how to feel about that.
He squeezes my hand gently and guides me toward the table.
He takes his seat at the head, posture shifting subtly, authority settling over him like a crown. Instinctively, I move to take a seat a few places down, not wanting to draw attention, not wanting to overstep.
Before I can sit, his hand closes around mine.
He tugs lightly.
"This way," he says, calm but firm.
He pulls out the chair beside his own,the chair meant for the Queen.
The room stills.
I swear I hear a gasp. Maybe more than one. A couple of female servants exchange looks, smirks tugging at their lips, eyes sharp with interest.
My heart hammers.
"Kieran, I can't…" I start.
He leans closer, voice low. "You belong here."
And just like that, he seats me beside him.
He doesn't spare the staff a glance. Doesn't acknowledge the whispers, the looks, the tension rippling outward.
He just reaches for my hand again, grounding, steady.
And somehow, despite the fear, despite the weight of it all, something warm blooms in my chest.
For the first time since stepping into this castle, I don't feel like I'm intruding.
I feel chosen.