The Exalted Luna

Vanessa's POV

The maid who had been assigned to bring me up to my room opened a door and ushered me through it.

I stood outside the door, hesitating for a while. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the grand room–high ceilings, intricate patterns of gold across the walls, plush velvet drapes-they spoke of money, of power. But then, what really stopped my breath was that familiar scent, wafting in the air—sandalwood and musk and something utterly unique to him alone.

My husband's scent.

I turned around, my heart racing as my eyes fell upon his things, neatly laid out on the table. My stomach twisted.

"We are going to be sharing rooms?" My voice shook a little, disbelief and apprehension curling in my chest.

The maid looked at me, perplexed, as if I'd just spoken in riddles. Right. No one here knew this wasn't anything but a marriage of convenience. A political arrangement.

My fingers curled into the taut fabric of my dress, my senses heightening at the knowledge that I stood on Alpha's territory. My husband's territory.

"I have to take my leave," she said and bowed, drawing back-the door closed smoothly behind her.

The silence wrapped itself in the room, weighing upon me. I swallowed, trying to shake off this feeling of unease that had risen in my spine.

I let out a deep breath and peeled off my dress, my muscles tight from the long day. Stepping into the adjoining washroom, the warm water massaged the knots at my back. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I allowed myself this one moment of reprieve before stepping out and slipping into a simple gown.

I settled onto the big bed and took up my book, turning the pages over, my sight never on its words, nor my heart nor brain involved by what might be said there. Still my eyes huddled towards the door. Come. Would he still show up? Do I wait for him or…

Just as sleep began to overtake me, a faint rustling stirred me awake. My lashes fluttered open, and my breath hitched at what lay before me.

There, seated in the dim glow of the room, was the Lycan Prince.

Relaxed, his posture was, yet something about the way he sat-shoulders squared, fingers idly tracing the armrest-simmered with an unreadable intensity.

"You're back," I whispered, my voice barely audible. My throat was dry. "Where have you been?"

His eyes, like small points, continued to pierce mine, and the space around us started to contract. His silence was palpable.

"I've been busy," he finally said; the words were clipped, far away.

"Busy?" I echoed, trying to decipher what he meant.

His jaw ticked, and for the first time, something flickered in his eyes. Something dark.

"I know about us being mates."

His words sent a jolt of surprise through me. My fingers curled into the sheets as I tried to process the weight of what he had just said.

Mates?

I parted my lips to say something, but nothing came out. My heart was racing against my ribs, a crazy rhythm of confusion and unease.

Then, just when I thought I couldn't be more unsettled, he spoke again.

"I know you were not the one I was meant to marry."

The air leaked out of my lungs.

I stared at him, making no effort to hide the raw emotions flashing across my face: shock, hurt, and something deeper, which I refused to name.

"Why tell me now?" I asked, my voice laced with frustration.

He didn't say anything but rose to his feet, his face unreadable. And quietly, he walked out, leaving me drowned in the ocean of questions that he had flung at me.

The palace walls seemed colder than they had been a while back.

As his words began to sink in, I felt as though I couldn't breathe in my room; I needed some air.

I navigated the corridors, my mind reeling. Rejection, wasn't it?

Why should it bother me? I had known this marriage was nothing but a political deal. I really should have been indifferent.

But I was not.

A movement from the shadows got my attention.

My heart skittered as the figure stepped forward. Recognition settled in.

The guard-the one I'd danced with on my wedding night.

"My Lady," he said smoothly, his head inclined. "What are you doing out so late?"

I let out a soft, humorless laugh. "I thought a walk would help clarify things in my head, but this palace is a maze. I think I'm lost."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Lost, huh?"

I nodded, hugging myself.

"I could lead you back if you don't mind," he offered, his voice warm, his expression unreadable.

I hesitated then nodded. "Alright."

We walked in silence, his presence oddly reassuring.

Just as we reached my door, he stopped. Flickering torchlight danced on his face, and his words became even more ominous.

"Be careful, my Lady. These people are not who they seem."

A cold feeling crept over me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

But he was gone, already melted into the shadows like a wind.

Morning brought news that was not so pleasing.

My family was leaving.

I stood by the grand doors, waiting for the farce of farewells to be over.

"You have truly made me proud, my dear," my father said, smiling like the doting parent he had never been.

I almost snorted. It was painfully obvious his pride had nothing to do with me and everything to do with what this marriage meant to him.

My mother stepped forward, embracing me with shaking hands. She leaned in, her voice a murmur. "If I hear anything about your sister, I will let you know."

I stiffened. My sister. The only person I ever cared about.

She drew back, her eyes aglimmer with unshed tears. I wanted to care-I really did-but resentment held my tongue hostage. She, too, had played a role in forcing me into this union.

I let them leave without another word.

When they were gone, I set off aimlessly through the palace, my mind in a turbulent storm. The warning of the guard haunted me. What had he meant?

Back in my room, I occupied myself with unpacking the last of my things.

As I set my suitcase on the bed, I saw something that caught my eye.

A letter.

I caught my breath.

I could tell the handwriting in an instant.

My sister's.

I tore it open with trembling fingers. My eyes scanned the first few lines, and my stomach clenched.

The contents made my blood run cold.

And then, at the very bottom, one final sentence stole the air from my lungs.