Liah’s POV

"I’d been hiding in the trees for hours. My chance was kneeling by the stream.”

A young maid, about my height and build, knelt at the water’s edge, scrubbing linens until her hands were raw. Hybrid wolf, weak, harmless. Perfect.

She never noticed me.

No one ever does until it’s too late.

I almost walked away. Then I remembered my sister’s voice the day I returned, the way she told me about the fire, about our parents’ deaths… and the Lycan princes who had laughed while the Silvermoon pack burned.

My resolve hardened.

It was over in seconds. Her body slid into the grass, silent as the mist. I stripped off her uniform, shoving my own clothes deep into the thicket.

Now I looked like her. Smelled like her. Weak. Forgettable.

Exactly what I needed to be.

*****

By noon, I stood in the Crimson Palace courtyard, the dead girl’s rags hanging off my frame. The chief maid’s gaze raked over me like she was scraping dirt from her shoe.

“Pathetic,” she muttered, then waved me inside.

The maid’s chamber was narrow, the air stale. I set my small bundle of clothes on the cot, forcing my breathing steady. One step inside. One step closer.

A wiry maid poked her head in. “Chief maid’s calling us. East wing.”

“Go ahead,” I said with a polite half-smile. “I’ll follow.”

The kitchen was hotter than I’d expected, steam rolling from great iron pots, the air thick with the smell of roasting meat and fresh bread. Servants moved in a tight rhythm, dodging around each other with trays and ladles, their voices sharp but quiet.

“Name?” The chief maid, a tall, narrow woman with silver-streaked hair, didn’t look up from the ledger in her hands.

I hesitated for a breath too long. “Marin,” I said, pulling the name from the stolen uniform’s tag.

Her eyes flicked up, sharp as pins. “New?”

“Yes, ma’am. From the outer villages.” My voice was small, deliberately so.

She sniffed, unimpressed, and handed me a tray of cut fruit and a pitcher of chilled cider. “For the princes. Don’t dawdle. And don’t speak unless spoken to.”

As I turned to go, two guards leaned in the open archway, talking in low voices.

“You think the princes will last the year? The curse only gets worse. Prince Rael collapsed a few nights ago.”

A second guard chuckled. “If Prince Lucan gets his way, the throne’s his.”

Curse. Collapse. Lucan. The words slotted together in my head like a blade finding its hilt.

“They fight like hell to hide it,” the first guard went on. “Especially Prince Rael. Always the loud one. Prince Kael’s more… watchful. But the pain hits them both.”

“They say the moon witch’s curse eats them alive from the inside,” the second guard went on. “Pain. Blood. No rest. Queen won’t admit it, but she’s worried. If they fall…” A meaningful pause. “Others will line up for the throne.”

I kept my head down, letting their words slide over me like water, but inside my pulse had quickened. Every piece of palace gossip was another blade for me to use later.

A girl about my age brushed past, balancing a tray twice as heavy as mine. “First day?” she asked under her breath, a flicker of sympathy in her eyes.

“Something like that.”

“Stay out of the head maid’s way, and don’t cross the princess. You’ll last longer.” She was gone before I could ask which princess she meant.

I stepped through the archway

And froze.

They were there.

Two shirtless men in the sun, their bodies slick with sweat, muscles flexing as they traded blows. One dark-haired, the other blonde. Both moved like predators, every strike deliberate.

Hatred hit first, hot and bitter. My parents’ killers. My pack’s ruin.

Then something else. A pull. Low in my stomach, sharp and strange. My chest tightened. I hated that feeling even more.

Across the yard, both Kael and Rael stopped mid-move, nostrils flaring almost in unison.

That scent. Sweet, wild, and intoxicating.

The mate bond slammed into them like a punch to the ribs. Their wolves clawed at their control.

They scanned the yard, searching but the source wasn’t close enough to see clearly.

Liah felt it then the faint shift in the air, the awareness of her own scent hanging dangerously. Her training kicked in. She masked it immediately, pulling her wolf’s energy tight against her skin until nothing leaked.

The strange pull dulled, but her heart still raced.

She had no idea the princes had scented her. She didn’t even know what that flare had been—only that she couldn’t afford anyone noticing her.

She stepped forward to cross the yard, but before she could take three steps.

"You there!" a voice barked from the hallway.

I turned. The senior maid’s sharp eyes locked on me. “The Queen wants you. Now. Bring the wine tray.”

Startled, I pivoted, hurrying toward the palace entrance, straight into another figure.

The tray tilted. Water and bread spilled, drenching a pale blue gown. Gasps filled the hall.

Aurora flinched back, eyes wide. “Are you insane?!”

“I” I dropped to my knees. “Forgive me"

“Look what you’ve done!” she snapped.

Queen Vivian’s voice sliced through the moment like a blade.

“What is this?” she hissed, sweeping forward. Her eyes raked over me with open disgust.

“You clumsy, stinking hybrid!” she spat, yanking the empty tray from my hands. “You can’t even carry water without ruining something?”

I kept my head bowed, fingers digging into my skirt.

“I"

“Silence! You disgrace the palace with your smell, your filth, your incompetence.” Queen Vivian’s lip curled as if she might be sick.

“From this moment, you will serve only as Lady Aurora’s personal maid. Perhaps fetching her slippers will be more your speed.”

Aurora smirked, stepping past me without a word.

My jaw tightened. My cheeks burned from the effort it took not to bare my teeth.

I lowered my head, voice quiet but steady.

“As you command, Your Majesty.”

Inside, the decision locked into place like a weapon in my hand. You want me near your precious bride? I’ll stay so close you won’t see me coming until it’s too late.

Meanwhile- Sparring Unit

Rael’s POV

The heat of the day clung to my skin, sweat sliding down my spine as Kael’s fist skimmed past my jaw. I caught his next punch in my palm, shoved him back.

And then I froze.

The scent hit me again like a blade between the ribs.

Sweet. Wild. Nothing I’d ever smelled before.

Kael stopped too, his breathing rough.

“You smell that?” I asked, my voice low.

His eyes locked on mine. “I fucking do.”

The fight was over before either of us said another word. We were already moving, boots hammering the stone as we followed the trail, sharp and warm, winding through the palace halls.

Every step pulled it closer, until it wrapped around me like it had always been meant to.

The Queen’s voice reached us before we stepped inside

The scent was in there.

We pushed the doors open hard enough for them to slam against the walls.

My chest tightened. The curse inside me stirred, sharp and hot, but I didn’t fight it I knew.

Kael and I said it together, voices rough, certain, and in perfect sync.

“Mate.”