The scent hit me first.

Pine needles crushed underfoot.

Winter air crystallizing in lungs.

Something untamed that made my skin prickle with warning.

Voices hushed around me as I moved through the grand hall.

My fingers trailing along the smooth wooden panels that lined the walls.

The mating ceremony was in full swing.

A cacophony of sound that both guided and disoriented me.

Glasses clinking.

Nervous laughter.

The rustle of formal attire.

And beneath it all, the low thrum of anticipation that vibrated through the floor.

Just find an empty seat, Evelyn, my sister Mara whispered, her hand briefly touching my elbow before disappearing.

I knew what she wasn’t saying, that she had her own prospects to pursue tonight.

That babysitting her blind Omega sister wasn’t part of her plan.

I couldn’t blame her.

In our pack, the annual mating ceremony represented opportunity.

The chance to form alliances, to be chosen, to rise in status.

For someone like me, it represented something else entirely.

Another reminder of my place at the edges.

I clutched my grandmother’s pendant tighter, feeling the worn silver warm against my palm.

Trust what you sense beyond sight, she’d told me before she died, pressing the crescent moon charm into my hand when I was just 12.

Your other senses will never lie to you.

7 years later, her words remained my anchor in a world designed for those who could see.

The pendant was my only inheritance.

That and the rare Omega abilities that had manifested alongside my blindness.

Our pack viewed these gifts as compensation for my defect.

A cosmic balancing that still left me firmly at the bottom of our hierarchy.

An omega who could sense emotions, who could sometimes calm a room with her presence, but who needed a guide to navigate the simplest paths.

Hardly prime mating material.

My cane tapped rhythmically as I moved forward, counting steps the way I always did, 27 from the entrance to where the tables began.

The servers had described the layout earlier.

12 round tables arranged in a horseshoe with the high table at the front reserved for the visiting alpha king and his delegation.

Our own pack leaders would join them there along with the most promising candidates for potential matches.

I had been seated at table 9 near the back.

A courtesy invitation extended to all unmated pack members of age, even those with no realistic prospects.

Finding my assigned table proved more challenging than anticipated.

The descriptions I’d been given didn’t account for the crowd, for bodies shifting and moving in unpredictable patterns, for the disorienting effect of so many scents and sounds layered over one another.

“Excuse me,” I murmured repeatedly, moving carefully between clusters of people.

Some shifted aside with murmured apologies.

Others fell silent as I passed, their emotions hitting me in waves.

Curiosity, pity, discomfort.

I was used to it all.

A sudden movement in the crowd pushed me sideways.

My hip knocked against a chair and I reached out to steady myself.

Empty seat.

Relief washed over me.

I’d been wandering long enough to feel conspicuous and the weight of attention of being the spectacle was something I tried to avoid.

I slid into the chair gratefully, arranging my pale blue dress around me.

The silence registered a moment later.

It began near me and rippled outward like a stone dropped in still water.

Conversations halted mid-sentence.

Glasses stopped clinking.

Even the ambient music seemed to fade.

The silence had texture, a thickness that pressed against my skin.

“You seem lost,” said a voice beside me, low and controlled, but with something untamed beneath the surface.

“The scent intensified.

Pine and winter, and something else, something that made my omega instinct simultaneously urge retreat and surrender.

power.

It radiated from him like heat from a flame.

“I was looking for table 9,” I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the sudden dryness in my throat.

“I apologize if I’ve taken someone’s seat.

” A soft sound, almost a chuckle, but not quite.

You’re at the high table.

My table.

Understanding crashed over me like ice water.

The high table.

The alpha king’s table.

Horror rooted me to the spot as I realized my mistake.

Of all the tables in the hall, I had blundered my way to the most forbidden one.

Had sat myself beside the most powerful shifter in three territories.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, gripping the edge of my seat to rise.

“I didn’t stay.

” One word spoken quietly, but with absolute authority.

“It wasn’t a request.

” I froze, halfway between sitting and standing, acutely aware of the hundreds of eyes fixed on us, of the stunned silence that continued to blanket the room.

No one approached.

No one dared.

“What’s your name?” he asked as casually as if we were alone rather than the focus of every person in the great hall.

“Evelyn,” I managed.

“Evelyn Winters.

” “Sit down, Evelyn Winters.

” I sank back into the chair, my heart hammering against my ribs.

My fingers found my grandmother’s pendant again, rubbing the familiar pattern like a talisman.

You’re blind.

Not a question, but not accusatory either.

Simply an observation.

Yes.

And an omega.

I nodded.

Yes.

Then remembered to speak.

Interesting combination.

There was something in his tone I couldn’t quite identify.

Curiosity perhaps or amusement.

Neither seemed appropriate for an Alpha King addressing a blind Omega who had just committed a serious breach of protocol.

The silence around us was beginning to break.

Small pockets of whispers erupting and spreading.

I could feel the waves of shock, disapproval, and fascination washing over me from all directions.

My pack leaders would be mortified.

This kind of misstep could damage relationships, could reflect poorly on our entire pack’s standing.

Alpha King Blackwood came another voice tight with tension.

Our pack alpha Richard Grant.

Please accept our deepest apologies for this disruption.

Evelyn is joining me for dinner.

The Alpha King finished, his tone brooking no argument.

As my guest, a fresh wave of shock rippled through the hall.

I felt my cheeks burning, my breath catching in my throat.

Of course, Alpha Grant responded after a moment, his confusion and concern bleeding into his scent.

As you wish, your majesty.

Footsteps retreated.

The ambient noise of the ceremony gradually resumed, though now underlaid with an electric current of speculation and disbelief.

Your trembling, the alpha king observed quietly.

I was.

My hands shook slightly in my lap, and I pressed them against my thighs to still them.

I’ve disrupted your ceremony.

I never meant to.

The ceremony was boring me.

He interrupted protocol and posturing.

You’re the first genuine thing to happen all evening.

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

Genuine wasn’t a quality often valued in our world of careful hierarchies and calculated alliances, especially not when it came packaged in a blind omega who couldn’t even find her assigned seat.

Tell me, Evelyn Winters, do you know who I am beyond my title? The question puzzled me.

You’re Alpha King Blackwood.

Your territory spans the northern mountains and forests.

You rule three major packs and a dozen minor ones.

Those are facts about my position, not about who I am.

Something in his voice, a challenge perhaps, or simple curiosity, made me pause.

I considered my next words carefully.

No, I admitted finally.

I don’t know who you are.

I only know what others say about you.

And what do they say? I hesitated.

Honesty seemed dangerous, but lying to an alpha king would be worse.

They say you’re powerful, ruthless when necessary, that you’ve brought prosperity to your territories, but that you rule with an iron fist, that you’ve rejected every potential mate presented to you for the past 5 years.

A soft exhale, almost like satisfaction, accurate enough.

And what do you sense about me, Evelyn Winters? Beyond what you’ve been told? The question startled me.

Few people acknowledged my abilities.

Fewer still invited me to use them.

I hesitated, then tentatively extended my senses toward him.

Alpha emotions were notoriously difficult to read.

Their energy ran hotter, more controlled, layered with complexity that could overwhelm an unpracticed Omega.

But beyond the intimidating power that radiated from him, I sensed something unexpected.

Loneliness.

Not the simple absence of company, but something deeper, more profound.

The isolation of someone perpetually surrounded yet never truly seen.

Sadness, I said softly before I could reconsider.

Loneliness, frustration.

You’re tired of something or someone.

I stopped abruptly, horrified at my own boldness.

The silence between us stretched, taught with tension.

I braced myself for anger, for dismissal.

Remarkable, he said finally, his voice so low I almost missed it.

Most people see only what they expect to see.

I don’t see it all, I reminded him.

A small nervous smile tugging at my lips before I could stop it.

His laugh surprised me, deep and genuine.

It rumbled through the air between us.

Conversation around us stuttered again as heads turned in our direction.

No, I suppose you don’t.

There was a smile in his voice.

Perhaps that’s why you see more clearly than most.

Before I could respond, there was a flurry of movement and the sounds of servers approaching with the first course, the clink of fine china and silver, the subtle thud of crystal glasses being placed, the rich aromas of expensive food wafting through the air.

“May I?” he asked.

And before I could determine what he was asking permission for, I felt his hand cover mine on the table.

His touch sent a jolt through me.

warm, strong fingers curling around mine with surprising gentleness.

The table setting is elaborate.

I’ll guide you.

It was unheard of.

An alpha king.

The alpha king personally assisting an Omega with something as mundane as navigating a place setting.

I could feel the shock emanating from those around us.

Could practically hear the thoughts racing through their minds.

What game was he playing? What did he want with the blind Omega girl? But his touch held no ulterior motive that I could sense, only a straightforward desire to help.

And beneath that, something that felt strangely like curiosity.

“Thank you,” I murmured, allowing him to guide my hand to each item, describing their positions with the precision of someone accustomed to giving clear commands.

“Wine glass at 2:00, water at 12, salad fork outermost on your left, dinner fork next to it, knife and soup spoon to your right.

” His voice remained low, meant only for me, despite the strained attention of everyone around us.

As he spoke, his thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand.

An unconscious gesture that seemed at odds with the composed alpha king everyone feared.

“You’ve done this before,” I observed, surprised by the ease with which he guided me.

A brief hesitation, my mother lost her sight in her final years.

The simple admission, personal, almost vulnerable, surprised me more than anything else that had happened.

Alpha kings didn’t share personal details, didn’t expose potential weaknesses, especially not with random omegas they just met.

I’m sorry, I said softly.

It was a long time ago.

His hand withdrew from mine, and I felt the sudden absence of his warmth like a physical thing.

The first course arrived, and conversation around us gradually resumed, though I could feel the weight of attention still fixed firmly on our unlikely pairing.

Questions hung in the air, unasked but pressing.

Why would the Alpha King, known for his exacting standards, and rejection of countless suitable matches, show such marked attention to a blind Omega from a minor pack? I had no answers, only the pendant warm against my skin, my grandmother’s words echoing in my mind.

Trust what you sense beyond sight.

And what I sensed from the Alpha King beside me was far more complex than the simple ruthlessness of his reputation.

As the first course progressed, I became increasingly aware of how my presence beside Alpha King Blackwood had disrupted the carefully orchestrated event.

Whispers fluttered around us like nervous birds, and I could feel the stairs, some curious, others hostile, boring into me from all directions.

The women who had been positioned strategically at the high table, potential mates carefully selected for their bloodlines and abilities, radiated resentment that prickled against my skin.

“They’re all watching us,” I murmured, keeping my voice low enough that only he could hear.

“Let them,” he replied, unconcerned.

There was a slight shift in his posture.

I felt it more than heard it as he leaned closer.

“Are there judgments bothering you, Evelyn? The way he said my name sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.

No one spoke to me that way, with interest, with focus, as if my answers actually mattered, not their judgments, I admitted, carefully navigating my fork to spear a piece of something delicate and herbed.

I’m used to those.

It’s the attention.

I prefer to remain unnoticed.

An unusual preference for someone attending a mating ceremony, he observed.

amusement coloring his tone.

I felt heat rising in my cheeks.

My attendance wasn’t exactly optional.

All unmated pack members of age are required to participate.

I paused, then added with a small smile.

Though I suspect my invitation was more formality than expectation.

Because you’re blind? His directness was jarring.

Most people avoided mentioning my condition directly, as if blindness were contagious through mere acknowledgement.

Partly, I conceded, and partly because I’m different, even for an Omega.

The conversation around us ebbed and flowed.

But I remained acutely aware of his attention, focused solely on me with an intensity that was both flattering and unnerving.

I wondered if this was how it felt to be seen, truly seen, beyond the surface.

Different how, he prompted when I didn’t elaborate.

I hesitated.

My unusual abilities were not something I discussed openly, especially not with strangers.

Even within my own pack, they were viewed with a mixture of superstition and wary acceptance.

Useful tools in certain situations, but also reminders of my otherness.

I sense things, I finally said, keeping my voice low.

Emotions, intentions, sometimes deeper truths.

My fingers found my grandmother’s pendant again, tracing its familiar curves.

My grandmother was the same.

She called it the Omega’s gift.

“A rare ability,” he commented, his voice thoughtful, particularly in its developed form.

I tilted my head, surprised.

“You know of it?” I make it my business to know of all significant gifts that appear in the territories under my protection.

a pause.

Then, though I was led to believe the gift had died out in these regions generations ago, there was something in his tone, a particular emphasis, a careful neutrality that made me wonder what he wasn’t saying.

Before I could consider it further, servers approached to clear our first course and bring the second.

As the meal progressed, I became aware of another sensation beneath the constant hum of attention.

Something darker, sharper, directed at us from across the room.

Not simple curiosity or disapproval, but something that felt like hatred.

Pure concentrated malice that made my skin crawl.

I stiffened involuntarily, my hand tightening around my fork.

What is it? The alpha king’s question came immediately, his voice pitched low but alert.

I hesitated, uncertain how to explain what I’d sensed without sounding paranoid.

Nothing probably, just someone doesn’t appreciate your attention toward me.

An understatement, but safer than voicing my true impression.

He shifted beside me, the movement subtle but deliberate.

Who? The directness of his question surprised me.

I don’t know.

I can’t see them.

Remember? I attempted a light tone, but it fell flat even to my own ears.

But you can sense them.

He countered.

your gift.

Use it.

It wasn’t a request.

Despite his gentle tone, the command of an alpha lay beneath the words.

I drew a steady breath and extended my awareness outward, past the immediate bubble of attention surrounding us, seeking the source of that dark emotion.

The effort made my temples throbb.

Sifting through the complex emotional landscape of a room filled with ambitious wolves was challenging enough under normal circumstances.

Trying to isolate one specific thread amid the chaos was like searching for a particular grain of sand on a beach.

But there, at the edge of my awareness, the malice pulsed again, sharper now that I was actively seeking it.

I turned my head slightly, orienting toward it instinctively.

Third table from the left, I murmured.

Someone important.

Their emotions have the weight of authority.

I concentrated harder, pushing past the strain, not from our pack.

Their scent is different, colder, like stone and still water.

Beside me, the Alpha King went utterly still.

Not the stillness of surprise, but the deadly immobility of a predator preparing to strike.

His scent changed subtly, taking on a sharper edge that made my Omega instincts want to bear my throat in submission.

Interesting, he said finally, his voice controlled, but with something dangerous lurking beneath.

That would be counselor Alexander from the Stone River Pack, an old acquaintance.

The way he said acquaintance made it clear their relationship was anything but friendly.

I felt a chill, wondering what history lay between them.

He doesn’t like me sitting here, I observed unnecessarily, a sound that might have been a laugh under different circumstances.

No, I imagine he doesn’t.

But not for the reasons you might think.

Before I could ask what he meant, he continued, “Tell me about your life, Evelyn Winters, beyond ceremonies and pack politics.

” The abrupt change of subject caught me off guard.

“My life,” I repeated, momentarily flustered.

“It’s ordinary mostly.

I doubt that very much.

” The warmth had returned to his voice.

“Indulge me.

” So I did.

I told him about growing up as the only blind wolf in our territory, about learning to navigate the world through sound and scent and touch.

About my grandmother teaching me to control my empathic abilities before they overwhelmed me.

About my small cottage at the edge of Packlands, where I created herbal remedies and balms that the pack healer reluctantly admitted were more effective than his own.

I grow the herbs myself, I explained, finding myself relaxing into the conversation despite the continued attention surrounding us.

Gardening is soothing.

Everything speaks to you through scent and texture.

You don’t need sight to know when a plant is thriving or suffering.

You live alone? He asked, something unidentifiable in his tone.

I nodded.

Since my grandmother passed, she left me her cottage.

My parents, I hesitated.

Old wounds still tender despite the years.

They found my condition difficult to accept.

They have their own lives now in another territory.

I didn’t mention how they had gradually distanced themselves as it became clear my blindness wasn’t temporary.

How they had eventually relocated to a pack where no one knew they had produced a defective daughter.

Only Mara had maintained contact, visiting occasionally out of duty more than affection.

They abandoned you, not a question.

His voice had gone cold again with an edge that made me shiver.

They made their choice, I said simply.

I’ve made peace with it.

A lie, but a necessary one.

Some vulnerabilities were too raw to expose, even to, or perhaps especially to an alpha king who had shown unexpected kindness.

The main course arrived then, saving me from further discussion of my family.

The rich aroma of roasted meat and herbs filled the air, and I heard the clink of wine being poured into glasses.

“May I?” he asked again.

And once more his hand covered mine, guiding me through the new arrangement on my plate.

Venison at the center, roasted root vegetables at 4:00.

Wild mushroom sauce has been drizzled over the meat.

His touch lingered longer than necessary, his thumb tracing small circles on my wrist that sent warmth spreading up my arm.

The gesture seemed unconscious, intimate in a way that made my heart beat faster.

“Thank you,” I murmured, hyper aware of his proximity.

Of the subtle spice and woods scent that was uniquely his.

“You’re trembling again,” he observed quietly.

“I was, but not from fear this time.

The room is warm,” I replied.

a halftruth that sounded unconvincing even to my own ears.

He made a non-committal sound that suggested he knew exactly why I was trembling and found it satisfying.

The conversation around us had largely resumed its normal flow, though I remained aware of the undercurrent of speculation, of eyes that continuously darted in our direction.

Most shocking of all was the lack of intervention from my own pack leaders.

Under normal circumstances, my presence at the high table, my interaction with the Alpha King would have been swiftly corrected.

Yet, no one approached.

No one attempted to remove me or apologize for my continued imposition.

It was as if an invisible barrier surrounded us, keeping others at bay.

Or perhaps it was simply fear of the Alpha King’s unpredictable reaction that prevented interference.

“They’re afraid of you,” I said suddenly, the realization crystallizing.

Yes.

No denial, no false modesty, just simple acknowledgement of fact.

Why? He was silent for a moment, considering power requires respect.

Respect often comes through fear.

Is that what you want to be feared? The question was too bold, too personal for an Omega addressing an alpha king.

I bit my lip, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth.

But instead of anger, I sensed something like surprise from him, followed by genuine consideration.

“What I want,” he said finally, his voice so low I had to lean closer to hear him, “is rarely considered relevant, even by those closest to me.

The admission, stark in its honesty, caught me off guard.

Before I could respond, a commotion at the entrance to the hall caught everyone’s attention.

The doors swung open with unnecessary force, and a new scent entered the room, similar to the Alpha Kings in its base notes of authority and power, but overlaid with something sharper, more aggressive.

My apologies for the late arrival, announced a male voice, loud enough to carry throughout the hall.

The hunt took longer than anticipated.

The alpha king beside me went rigid.

My brother, he said, his voice neutral in a way that suggested carefully controlled emotion.

Prince Cyrus.

The newcomers footsteps approached the high table directly, his movements confident, almost swaggering.

I felt the air shift as he neared.

Sensed the way conversation dimmed in his wake.

Brother, the prince said, his voice dripping with false warmth.

How good of you to save me a seat at your table.

a pause, then with obvious surprise, “Though I see you found yourself.

” Unexpected company, I felt his gaze on me like a physical touch, assessing and dismissive all at once.

My fingers tightened around my grandmother’s pendant, drawing strength from its familiar contours.

“Prince Cyrus,” the Alpha King said, his tone carrying a warning that even I, an outsider, could recognize.

May I present Evelyn Winters? She is my guest this evening.

A blind omega.

The prince made no attempt to disguise his disbelief or the contempt that colored his words.

Really, Dominic, even for you, this is an unusual choice of entertainment.

The alpha king, Dominic, rose from his seat in one fluid motion.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as his power unfurled, pressing down on everyone present with palpable force.

“Apologize,” he commanded.

The single word laced with alpha authority that made my knees weak, even though I remained seated.

Silence fell across the hall once more, heavier than before.

I sensed hundreds of eyes fixed on the tableau we created.

the standing Alpha King radiating cold fury, the prince, whose surprise had shifted to calculation, and me caught between them, uncertain and increasingly uncomfortable.

“Come now, brother,” Prince Cyrus said, his tone consiliatory, though I sense no genuine remorse.

“Surely you haven’t developed such delicate sensibilities.

I meant no offense to your guest.

Yet offense was given, Dominic replied, his voice deadly quiet.

Apologized to Lady Winters.

Now, Lady Winters, the honorific, typically reserved for wolves of significant status, sent a ripple of shock through the room.

From the prince, I sensed a flash of genuine anger quickly masked by careful control.

“My apologies, Lady Winters,” he said, the words formal and empty.

I spoke without thought.

I inclined my head slightly, unsure of the proper protocol for accepting an apology from royalty.

No harm done, your highness.

Dominic remained standing until his brother had moved away to take a seat elsewhere at the high table.

Only then did he lower himself back beside me, his movements controlled, but with an underlying tension that hadn’t been there before.

“Your brother doesn’t approve of me,” I observed quietly.

Once conversation had grudgingly resumed around us.

My brother doesn’t approve of anything that isn’t his idea, Dominic replied.

A thread of old frustration woven through his words.

Pay him no mind.

But I could sense there was more to it.

Layers of history and conflict between the brothers that ran deeper than simple rivalry, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had somehow become a pawn in a game whose rules I didn’t understand.

The remainder of the meal passed in a strange blend of tension and unexpected connection.

Despite the prince’s interruption and the continued attention from the room, Dominic and I fell into conversation that felt almost natural.

He asked questions about my life, my abilities, my small acts of independence that others might take for granted.

And he listened to my answers with genuine interest that made me feel seen in a way I’d never experienced before.

The full moon approaches in 3 days, he commented as dessert was served.

Something decadent with chocolate and berries whose scent made my mouth water.

Do you run with your pack during the change? I hesitated, my spoon pausing halfway to my lips.

The question touched on yet another way I differed from other wolves.

Sometimes, I said carefully, the shift affects me differently.

I retain more human consciousness than most.

I set my spoon down.

suddenly less interested in the desert.

The pack finds it unsettling.

They prefer I run the boundaries away from the main hunting groups.

What I didn’t say was how lonely those runs could be, trotting along familiar paths while the joyful howls of my packmates echoed in the distance, always conscious of the invisible lines separating me from their communal experience.

“Your wolf sees without eyes,” he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

I nodded.

better than my human form.

Actually, scent and sound become sharper, more vivid.

I can map the forest in my mind through them.

A small smile touched my lips of the memory.

The first time I shifted after losing my sight, it was like rediscovering a world I thought was gone forever.

When did it happen? Your blindness.

I was born with sight, I explained.

Lost it gradually between ages 8 and 10.

An autoimmune response, the healer said, my wolf blood attacking my human parts.

I shrugged slightly.

By my 11th birthday, the world was darkness.

He was quiet for a moment, and I sensed him processing this information, fitting it into whatever picture he was forming of me.

Yet, you adapted, he observed finally, created a life despite the limitations others would have accepted.

There was something like admiration in his voice that made my cheeks warm.

I had little choice, I replied honestly.

My grandmother refused to let me hide away or be treated as an invalid.

Sight is just one way to perceive the world, she would say.

Not even the most important one.

My fingers found the pendant again, remembering the fierce old woman who had shaped so much of who I’d become.

Dominic noticed the gesture.

That pendant, you touch it often.

It holds significance for you.

It was hers, my grandmother’s.

I hesitated, then lifted the silver crescent moon on its chain, holding it out slightly.

“Would you like to see it?” I felt his surprise at the offer, followed by something warmer.

“I would,” he said, and his fingers brushed mine as he took the pendant, sending that now familiar warmth through my skin.

“It’s old,” he observed after a moment.

“The craftsmanship is unusual.

These symbols along the edge, they’re from the old language.

Protective runes.

My breath caught.

You can read them.

My grandmother said they were special, but she never translated them for me.

He made a sound of confirmation.

They’re a ward against deception.

Truth will find you in darkness.

He paused, then added more quietly, “A fitting guardian for someone with your gifts.

” As he returned the pendant to my palm, his fingers lingered against mine longer than necessary.

The contact sent a jolt of awareness through me.

Different from before, more intense, more deliberate.

Evelyn, he began, his voice dropping to a register that made my skin prickle with anticipation.

There’s something I a sharp voice cut through whatever he had been about to say.

Your majesty, forgive the interruption.

The voice belonged to a woman, cultured and commanding.

The ceremonial toast is traditionally given after dessert, and the hour grows late.

I felt Dominic’s irritation like a physical thing, but when he spoke, his voice betrayed none of it.

Of course, Lady Serena, tradition must be observed.

The woman, Lady Serena, radiated satisfaction tinged with something darker.

I sensed her gaze sweep over me, dismissive and calculating all at once.

Perhaps your guest would be more comfortable elsewhere during the formal proceedings,” she suggested, false concern dripping from her words.

“The ceremonial rituals can be quite complex for those unfamiliar with court protocol.

” Before Dominic could respond, I placed my napkin beside my plate and straightened my shoulders.

“You’re absolutely right, Lady Serena.

I wouldn’t want to interfere with tradition.

” I turned my face toward where I sensed Dominic beside me.

Thank you for your kindness, your majesty.

It was an unexpected honor I made to rise, determined to exit with whatever dignity I could salvage.

This strange interlude, whatever it had been, was clearly coming to its inevitable end.

Reality was reasserting itself.

But Dominic’s hand caught mine beneath the table, his grip firm but gentle.

Stay, he said.

And though his voice remained level, I felt the command beneath it.

not alpha compulsion, but something equally powerful.

Lady Serena, inform the master of ceremonies that will begin the toast shortly.

Her displeasure radiated from her in waves, but she had no choice but to acquies.

As you wish, your majesty, as her footsteps retreated, I turned toward Dominic in confusion.

Why did you do that? She’s right.

I don’t belong here during the formal rituals.

You belong where I say you belong, he replied.

a hint of that dangerous alpha tone returning then more gently.

And I find I prefer your company to that of those who have been carefully selected to please me.

The admission sent a flutter through my chest that I tried desperately to suppress.

This wasn’t real.

Couldn’t be real.

Alpha Kings didn’t form genuine connections with blind omegas from minor packs.

Whatever game he was playing, whatever momentary amusement I provided, it would end tonight when the ceremony concluded.

To imagine otherwise was dangerous foolishness.

The toast, I said, forcing practicality into my voice.

What does it involve? He seemed to accept the change of subject, though I sensed reluctance.

It’s simple enough.

As visiting Alpha King, I will stand and offer words about the alliance between our territories, the importance of strong bonds between packs, and then formally open the courtship period.

Courtship period? I asked, puzzled.

The mating ceremony isn’t merely a single night, he explained.

It marks the beginning of a 3-month period during which formal courtships may be initiated.

Tonight is about first impressions, initial attractions.

The real negotiations come later.

Before I could respond, a hush fell over the room as someone, presumably the master of ceremonies, struck a crystal goblet with a silver spoon, the clear tone ringing through the hall.

Distinguished guests, announced a formal voice.

We have arrived at the ceremonial toast.

I invite his majesty, Alpha King Dominic Blackwood, to address the gathering.

Beside me, Dominic rose smoothly to his feet.

His presence seemed to expand, filling the room with quiet authority that commanded attention without effort.

I felt the focus of the entire hall shift to him.

Hundreds of eyes fixed on his figure.

honored alphas, respected pack members, he began, his voice carrying effortlessly to every corner of the hall.

We gather tonight as we have for generations to celebrate the bonds between our territories to strengthen old alliances and forge new ones, his speech continued, touching on shared history, mutual protection, and the prosperity that came from cooperation.

His words were perfectly appropriate, traditionally minded, and yet something about his delivery felt peruncter, as if he were reciting lines he had spoken many times before without true investment.

As is tradition, he continued, approaching what I assumed was the conclusion.

Tonight marks the opening of the formal courtship period.

For three moons, those who have found potential matches may pursue their interests according to ancient custom and protocol.

He paused and I sensed a shift in his demeanor, something more authentic breaking through the formal facade.

Tradition serves a purpose, he said, his tone subtly different.

It provides structure, continuity, a bridge between past and future, but tradition without growth becomes stagnation.

Ritual without meaning becomes empty performance.

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

This was clearly not part of the expected speech.

I have attended seven mating ceremonies as Alpha King, Dominic continued, an edge entering his voice.

I have observed the rituals, spoken the words, and watched the same elaborate dance of politics and positioning play out year after year.

I have been presented with candidates deemed suitable based on bloodlines, political advantage, and superficial qualities that have little bearing on true compatibility.

” The murmur grew louder.

I felt the shock emanating from the crowd, the uncertainty and confusion.

Beside me, Prince Cyrus’s emotions spiked with alarm, and something that felt almost like glee.

“Tonight,” Dominic said, his voice cutting through the growing whispers.

Something unexpected occurred.

Something genuine in the midst of calculation.

“And it has reminded me of what these ceremonies were originally intended to celebrate.

Not strategic alliances, but authentic connection.

” My heart began to pound as I sensed his attention shift toward me.

Surely he wasn’t.

Therefore, I am exercising my right as alpha king to formally declare my interest in courtship.

The hall erupted in excited whispers.

This was clearly unexpected, but not unprecedented.

The visiting alpha king choosing a mate from among the candidates was a coup for any pack.

But then Dominic continued, his voice cutting through the speculation.

My interest is in Evelyn Winters of the Crescent Valley Pack.

Silence.

Complete stunned silence fell over the entire hall.

My ears rang with shock.

I couldn’t have heard correctly.

The Alpha King had just publicly declared interest in me.

A blind omega with no status, no political value, nothing to recommend me except except what? What possible reason could he have for such a declaration? I felt hundreds of emotions hitting me at once from all directions.

shock, outrage, disbelief, jealousy, calculation, triumph, fury.

The onslaught was overwhelming, making my head spin and my breath catch.

This is absurd.

The voice belonged to Prince Cyrus, who had apparently risen to his feet.

“Brother, you cannot be serious.

She’s blind and omega from a minor pack with no strategic value.

The council will never.

The council does not select my mate.

Dominic cut in his voice deadly quiet.

That right belongs to me alone as written in our most ancient laws.

But she’s enough.

The single word carried such alpha command that even I felt its force like a physical pressure.

My declaration stance.

I sat frozen, unable to process what was happening.

This couldn’t be real.

It had to be some kind of political maneuver.

some game being played between brothers or between rival factions that I didn’t understand.

Evelyn.

Dominic had turned toward me, his voice gentler.

I formally request your permission to court you according to pack law.

You are under no obligation to accept.

Another shock rippled through the room at these words.

An Alpha King asking permission rather than simply claiming what he wanted.

It was unprecedented.

I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice despite the chaos of emotions swirling around me, despite my own confusion and disbelief.

Your majesty, I began, my voice embarrassingly unsteady.

I I don’t understand.

We’ve only just met.

You know nothing about me.

I know more than you might think, he replied.

Something enigmatic in his tone.

And I wish to know more still.

That is the purpose of courtship, is it not? A flash of anger cut through my confusion.

Was this a joke to him? Some amusement to break the monotony of formal proceedings.

“With respect, your majesty,” I said, keeping my voice low enough that only those at our table could hear.

I have no interest in being a novelty or a political statement.

Instead of anger, I sense something like admiration from him.

“Good,” he said simply.

“Neither do I.

Before I could respond, another voice cut through the tension.

Alpha Grant of my own pack.

His tone a strange mixture of difference and disbelief.

Your Majesty, while we are honored by your interest in one of our pack members, perhaps this discussion would be better continued privately after the ceremony has concluded.

Dominic considered this for a moment.

You’re right, Alpha Grant.

The formal proceedings should continue.

He raised his voice to address the entire hall once more.

The courtship period is now open.

May the moon guide each of you to worthy matches.

With those traditional words, he sat down beside me again, seemingly unconcerned with the chaos his announcement had caused.

Around us, conversation slowly, reluctantly resumed, though now entirely focused on what had just transpired.

“You’ve created quite a stir,” I observed, still trying to process what had happened.

Good, he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

These ceremonies have become far too predictable.

Is that what this is about? Disrupting expectations? He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice had lost its lightness.

No, Evelyn.

It’s about something far more important than that.

Then what? I asked, frustration finally breaking through my composure.

What possible reason could the Alpha King have for declaring interest in someone like me? His hand found mine under the table, his fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture that felt startlingly intimate.

“Because when you sat beside me,” he said quietly, “you were the only person in this room who saw me as a man rather than a crown.

And that, Evelyn Winters, is rarer than you could possibly imagine.

” His words left me speechless, a flutter of something dangerous, something like hope rising in my chest despite my determination to remain practical.

Before I could formulate a response, a new commotion drew the attention of the hall.

The main doors swung open with ceremonial slowness, and a hush fell over the gathering.

The scent that entered was unfamiliar, yet carried notes that reminded me of Dominic and Cyrus, family resemblance in alactory form.

The queen mother,” Dominic murmured beside me, his hand withdrawing from mine as he rose to his feet.

Around us, chairs scraped as others followed suit in a wave of deference.

I stood as well, uncertain of the protocol, but unwilling to remain seated when everyone else had risen.

The Queen Mother’s footsteps approached with measured dignity, accompanied by the subtle rustle of expensive fabric and the faint chime of jewelry.

My son,” she greeted, her voice cultured and controlled.

“I apologize for my late arrival.

The journey from the northern palace was delayed by unexpected weather.

” “Mother,” Dominic replied, formality edging his tone.

“We’re honored by your presence.

” I sensed her attention shift, focusing on me with laser precision.

Her assessment was palpable, like fingers brushing across my skin.

And this must be the Omega who has caused such a stir, she observed, her tone revealing nothing of her thoughts.

I received an urgent message from counselor Alisander just as I arrived.

He seemed concerned about your announcement.

Of course, he had.

I suppressed a grimace, imagining the frantic communications that must have been happening behind the scenes while Dominic and I sat talking about herbs and moonlight runs.

Evelyn Winters, Dominic said.

May I present Queen Mother Blackwood? I dipped into what I hoped was an appropriate curtsy.

Your Majesty, it’s an honor.

Look at me, child, she commanded softly.

I raised my face toward her voice, aware of the irony of her request.

I’m afraid I cannot see you, your majesty.

I’ve been blind since childhood.

I’m aware, she replied, surprising me.

Then, even more surprisingly, she reached out and gently took my face in her hands, her touch cool and assessing, I remained perfectly still, conscious of the hundreds of eyes watching this unusual interaction.

Her fingers traced the contours of my face with delicate precision, lingering briefly at my temples.

The touch wasn’t invasive, but felt ceremonial, somehow ancient.

Interesting, she murmured so quietly that perhaps only Dominic and I could hear.

Her hands fell away.

You have your grandmother’s features, especially around the eyes.

I froze.

You knew my grandmother.

The queen mother didn’t answer directly.

Instead, she turned to address her son.

A private word, Dominic.

Now, it wasn’t a request.

Despite his status as alpha king, Dominic acquiesced with a brief nod.

“Of course, mother.

” He turned to me.

“Excuse me for a moment, Evelyn.

” I nodded suddenly, feeling very alone as they moved away, their footsteps receding toward what I assumed was a side chamber off the main hall.

Conversation resumed around me in a rush, like a dam breaking, but no one approached.

I was left standing awkwardly, unsure whether to remain at the high table or retreat to somewhere less conspicuous.

Well, well, came Prince Cyrus’s voice as he slid into the seat beside me, left to fend for yourself already.

That didn’t take long.

I stiffened but kept my expression neutral as I carefully sat down again.

Prince Cyrus, how may I help you? He laughed, the sound lacking genuine humor.

Help me.

That’s rich.

No.

Little Omega, I think the question is how I might help you.

I wasn’t aware I needed help, I replied, keeping my voice level despite the unease his presence stirred.

“Oh, but you do.

” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear.

“You’ve been thrust into a game whose rules you don’t understand, pieces moving around you that you can’t see, literally.

” He chuckled at his own joke.

My brother has placed you in a very precarious position.

I turned my face toward him, refusing to be intimidated.

And you’re concerned for my welfare.

How thoughtful.

Let’s call it curiosity, he replied, unperturbed by my sarcasm.

I wonder what my brother sees in you that warranted such a dramatic declaration.

You’re pretty enough, I suppose, in a delicate, breakable way, but hardly the stuff of royal consorts.

The insult stung, but I refused to show it.

Perhaps your brother values qualities beyond the superficial.

Cyrus laughed again.

My brother values power and control above all else.

Don’t delude yourself into thinking otherwise.

He paused, then added in a lower voice.

Did he tell you about the others? Despite myself? I took the bait.

Others? The other omegas who caught his attention over the years.

special unique little things like you who briefly captured his interest before he discarded them.

His voice dripped with false sympathy.

They never lasted long, a moon cycle, perhaps two, just long enough to satisfy his curiosity.

Each word was designed to plant seeds of doubt, and I hated that they found fertile ground in my own insecurities.

Of course, this wasn’t real.

How could it be? Men like Dominic Blackwood didn’t genuinely pursue women like me.

But before the doubts could fully take root, I remembered my grandmother’s pendant, remembered its purpose.

Truth will find you in darkness, I reached for my gift, extending it toward Cyrus, seeking the emotions beneath his carefully crafted words.

What I found confirmed my suspicions.

No concern, only calculation.

Jealousy, resentment, and something darker, fear.

He feared his brother’s interest in me, though I couldn’t yet understand why.

“You’re lying,” I said quietly, certainty strengthening my voice.

Or at least not telling the whole truth.

He stiffened beside me, his surprise evident in the sudden shift of his scent.

“You can’t possibly I can sense emotions, your highness,” I interrupted, turning to face him more directly.

“And yours tell me far more than your words.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he laughed.

This time with what sounded like genuine appreciation.

Well played, little Omega.

Perhaps my brother’s interest isn’t so mysterious after all.

He rose from his seat.

A word of advice, though.

Sensing emotions is one thing.

Understanding the politics of royal courts is quite another.

Tread carefully.

With that parting shot, he moved away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of attention that still hadn’t fully abated.

Minutes later, I sensed Dominic’s return before I heard his footsteps.

His emotions reached me first.

Determination tinged with something like wonder, and beneath it all, a fierce protectiveness that made my heart skip.

“Evelyn,” he said as he reached me, his voice low and urgent.

“Come with me.

” I rose, allowing him to take my elbow and guide me away from the table.

The touch of his hand sent that now familiar warmth through me, but I forced myself to focus.

“Your brother paid me a visit while you were gone,” I murmured as we walked.

“He was informative,” Dominic’s grip tightened slightly.

“Whatever he told you was meant to plant doubts,” I finished for him.

“I know, but it does raise questions.

” I paused as we reached what felt like a quieter corner of the hall.

Why me, Dominic? The truth.

He was silent for a moment, and I sensed him organizing his thoughts.

When he spoke, his voice had dropped to a register meant only for me.

“My mother knew your grandmother,” he began, confirming what I had suspected from the queen mother’s strange comment.

“Not just knew her.

They were friends, allies in a time of great upheaval for our kind.

” I frowned, confused.

My grandmother was a healer in a small pack.

How would she have known the queen? Your grandmother was more than that, he said gently.

Much more.

She was one of the last true seers among our kind.

Wolves gifted with the ability to sense truth beyond appearances.

To glimpse threads of possible futures, a rare and powerful gift that made her both valued and feared.

My fingers found my pendant, clutching it as if it might confirm or deny his words.

She never told me.

She was protecting you, he continued.

When the gift began to manifest in you as a child, she reached out to my mother.

They agreed it would be safer if you remained hidden.

Unremarkable.

Your blindness, while truly unfortunate, provided the perfect cover.

Who would suspect a blind Omega of possessing one of the most coveted abilities among our kind? My mind raced, trying to absorb this revelation.

But you knew.

Somehow you knew who I was before tonight.

He nodded.

I felt the movement through his hand still on my arm.

My mother told me years ago about the granddaughter of the last seer, hidden away in the Crescent Valley Pack.

I’ve kept watch over you from a distance, ensuring your safety without revealing your importance.

A chill ran through me as pieces began falling into place.

The invitation to tonight’s ceremony.

It wasn’t routine at all, was it? No, he admitted.

When the time came to choose which packs would attend this year’s ceremony, I specifically requested Crescent Valley’s participation.

Anger flared, hot and unexpected.

So, tonight was planned, some elaborate scheme to what? Acquire the last sear’s granddaughter for your court.

Add my supposed gifts to your collection of powers.

No, he said firmly, his free hand coming up to cup my cheek.

The touch was gentle but insistent.

turning my face toward his.

The invitation was deliberate.

Yes, but everything that happened after you sat beside me, that was real, Evelyn.

Completely unexpected and completely real.

I wanted to believe him.

Everything in me yearned to accept the warmth in his voice as genuine.

But doubt, once planted, is difficult to uproot.

How can I trust that? I whispered.

You’re an alpha king.

Politics and strategy are in your blood.

Use your gift, he said simply.

You sensed the truth of Cyrus’s deception.

Now sense the truth of my words.

It was a fair challenge.

I drew a steadying breath and opened my senses fully to him, reaching past the surface to the emotions beneath.

What I found nearly took my breath away.

A complex tapestry of feelings rich and deep.

admiration, fascination, protectiveness, and something tender unfurling at its center.

New, but growing stronger by the moment.

No calculation, no cold strategy, just a man discovering something precious and unexpected.

Oh, I breathed, momentarily, overwhelmed by the intensity of what I’d sensed.

His thumb traced a gentle arc across my cheekbone.

Do you believe me now? I nodded slowly, unable to deny what my gift had shown me so clearly.

But I still don’t understand.

You’re the alpha king.

You could have any mate.

Someone who would bring political advantage, military strength, ancient bloodlines.

I’ve been offered those matches for years, he replied, a hint of his earlier frustration returning.

Partnerships built on everything except what truly matters.

His voice softened.

Tonight when you sat beside me, when you saw past the crown to the man beneath, you gave me something I haven’t experienced in years, a genuine connection free from calculation or agenda.

My heart pounded as he continued, his voice dropping lower.

And when I sensed your gift, the true depth of it, far stronger than even my mother had described, I understood why fate had brought you to my table tonight.

The last sear’s granddaughter and the alpha king, both trapped by expectations neither of us chose.

So what happens now? I asked, hardly daring to breathe.

Now, he said, I formally request your permission to court you.

Evelyn Winters, not because of your lineage or your gift, but because I wish to discover if what began tonight might grow into something neither of us expected to find.

The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, even without my gift to confirm it.

Still, caution made me hesitate.

Courtship doesn’t mean commitment, I said carefully.

It means time to learn whether we suit, whether this connection is real or simply the novelty of something unexpected.

He laughed softly, the sound warming me from within, practical even now.

Yes, that’s exactly what it means.

I took a deep breath, aware that my next words would set me on a path from which there would be no easy return.

Then yes, Alpha King Dominic Blackwood, you have my permission to court me according to Packlaw.

His relief and joy washed over me like a physical touch.

Before I could react, he raised my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles that sent electricity racing up my arm.

The ceremony will conclude soon, he murmured against my skin, and then we’ll have much to discuss.

Away from prying eyes and ears, as if his words had summoned them, I sensed approaching footsteps, multiple sets, moving with purpose.

“Your majesty,” came counselor Alisander’s voice, tightly controlled, but with undertones of barely suppressed outrage.

“The council requests an immediate audience regarding your unprecedented announcement.

” Dominic straightened, but didn’t release my hand.

The council’s concerns can wait until morning, counselor.

The ceremony is not yet concluded.

With respect, your majesty, another voice interjected.

Female, authoritative, likely another council member.

This matter requires immediate attention.

The political implications alone are mine to consider, Dominic finished firmly.

I have made my declaration according to ancient law.

The council has no authority to question it.

The tension in the air thickened, a subtle power struggle unfolding around me.

I felt Dominic’s anger building, controlled but potent, and instinctively placed my free hand on his arm.

The touch was light, but I sent a gentle wave of calm through our contact, not manipulation, merely a reminder of peace.

He responded immediately, his energy settling beneath my touch.

The council members must have sensed the shift as their own stances became less confrontational.

Very well, your majesty, counselor Alexander conceded, though reluctance colored every word.

In the morning, then, though I must insist that the traditional protocols for royal courtship be strictly observed, “Of course,” Dominic agreed smoothly, Lady Winters and I will honor all traditions appropriate to her status.

“My status.

” A blind Omega from a minor pack, suddenly thrust into the political spotlight.

The thought was terrifying.

As the council members retreated, I turned to Dominic.

I don’t know the first thing about royal courtship protocols.

You’ll learn, he assured me, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand in that now familiar gesture.

And you won’t be alone.

My mother has already expressed her intention to guide you.

That was both reassuring and intimidating.

She approves then of this.

I gestured vaguely between us.

She recognized your gift immediately, he said.

And she remembers your grandmother with great fondness.

But more than that, he paused, a smile in his voice.

She saw how I look at you.

Heat rose to my cheeks.

And how is that exactly like a man who has found something long searched for? He replied simply, “Something precious and unexpected.

” Before I could respond to this disarmingly honest admission, the master of ceremonies announced the formal conclusion of the evening’s events.

Around us, chairs scraped as people rose, conversation building as the hall began to empty.

Your pack will be returning to their territory tonight, Dominic said, his voice taking on a practical tone.

But as my declared courtship interest, you’re entitled to remain as a royal guest if you wish.

The implication, leaving behind everything familiar to stay in an unknown palace, sent a flutter of anxiety through me.

Yet the alternative, returning to my solitary cottage, pretending this night had never happened.

Seemed equally impossible.

I have nothing with me, I said practically.

No clothes, no personal items.

All can be provided, he assured me.

But the choice must be yours, Evelyn.

I won’t pressure you.

I thought of my small garden waiting for morning tending, my herbs that needed harvesting.

The comfortable routine of my solitary life.

Then I thought of the connection I’d felt with this man in just a few hours.

A connection unlike anything I’d experienced before.

My fingers found my grandmother’s pendant one more time.

Truth will find you in darkness.

Perhaps this was what she had been preparing me for all along.

I’ll stay, I decided, my voice stronger than I expected.

at least for now.

To see where this courtship leads, his joy radiated from him like physical warmth.

I was hoping you’d say that.

He offered his arm formally.

Shall we depart then? My carriage awaits.

As I placed my hand on his arm, I felt countless eyes following our progress toward the exit.

Whispers trailed in our wake like autumn leaves.

Speculation and shock and calculation all swirling together.

This night had upended expectations, disrupted carefully laid plans, and set in motion consequences neither of us could fully predict.

Yet, as we stepped from the warm hall into the cool night air, the scent of pine and promise surrounding us, I found myself filled with unexpected certainty.

Whatever came next, whatever challenges awaited the blind Omega and the Alpha King, we would face them together.

The future might be as dark to me as the present, but for the first time in years, I wasn’t afraid of what I couldn’t see.

Some things, after all, were clearer when viewed with the heart rather than the eyes.

And as Dominic helped me into his carriage, his hand steady and warm around mine.

I realized that my grandmother had been right all along.

I had always possessed everything I needed to find my way through the darkness.

I just hadn’t expected that the path would lead me here, to a royal carriage, to a new beginning, to the side of an alpha king who had somehow seen past my blindness to the truth of who I was.

As the carriage began to move, carrying us away from the mating ceremony that had changed everything.

Dominic’s fingers intertwined with mine, a silent promise of what was to come.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

I smiled, turning my face toward his voice that sometimes the most important things in life are the ones we never see coming.

His answering laugh was warm and genuine, wrapping around me like an embrace.

In that, Evelyn Winters, we are perfectly matched.

And as we rode through the night toward a future neither of us had anticipated at the day’s beginning, I felt the weight of my grandmother’s pendant against my skin, a reminder that some bonds are forged by forces beyond our understanding, connecting us across time and circumstance to exactly where we’re meant to be.

The ceremony that had started with an accident had ended with a beginning.

And for once, I didn’t need sight to know that the path ahead, though uncertain, was exactly the one I was meant to walk.