The Wolf King's Second Chance Mate

Meeting the King's Delegate

That evening, Aertis escorted Lyria to the ball. For once, Aertis was wearing a plain gown of dark blue, her hair left loose and unstyled and her makeup subtle. Lyria, by contrast, had been done up beautifully, with charcoal applied to her eyes and pigment to her lips so that they were stained a lovely maroon color like a deep, rich wine.

Aertis was grinning fondly at her, admiring the work she had done on Lyria. Not only had she done Lyria’s makeup, she had also twisted her hair into an elegant bun that also incorporated neat braids. Lyria had long admired herself in the mirror before they had left for the ball.

“This is so exciting!” Aertis said as they crossed the town square to the packhouse. “And I even get to go with you!”

Aertis had pouted her way into an invitation, ostensibly to help Lyria impress the King’s delegates, but more so because she hated being left out of anything. And when you’re the spoiled favorite daughter of the Beta and you’re to be mated to the eldest son of the Alpha, you tend to get your way. At least, so it seemed to Lyria, who had long watched Aertis wheedle and cajole her way into whatever struck her fancy. Aertis was a force of nature when she set her mind to something, and Lyria had never seen her fail.

“Oh wow,” said Lyria as they approached the packhouse. It was beautiful, lit with twinkling candles which made the windows sparkle. In the dusky light of the setting sun, it looked almost otherworldly. Standing outside, Lyria saw two Omegas, one of whom was her father. She rushed forward.

“Father,” she exclaimed, “look!” And as she approached she swirled around in her dress, extending her arms like a bird about to take flight.

“You look beautiful,” her father said. He was a short man, with kind brown eyes and severe cheekbones. He had dark hair, almost black, which her other siblings had all inherited. “You look like your mother when she was your age,” he added. 

“Is she here?” Lyria asked eagerly, glancing around. “I want to show her my dress!”

“She’s inside,” her father laughed, overjoyed to see his usually serious daughter so full of excitement and laughter.

Lyria practically skipped along inside, with Aertis hurrying along in her wake. As Aertis moved to follow Lyria inside, her father put out a hand to stop her.

“Aertis,” he said in a low voice, looking over his shoulder to to make sure that Lyria didn’t stop, “we’ve heard rumors that this ball is about more than just welcoming the King’s delegates, and that they’re here for more than just a survey of the kingdom.” He looked pointedly into her eyes.

Aertis squirmed a little under his gaze. “Charel, you know I can’t--” she starts to speak, but he cuts her off.

“Please.”

Aertis looked down at the ground for a moment, contemplating. The Moonglow family had always treated her with kindness that went beyond her status within the pack. She had a soft spot for the family. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded at the ground.

“And is it…?” he didn’t finish the question, but she understood what he was asking.

“Yes,” she replied softly, almost inaudibly.

His face was filled with sadness, but he spoke resolutely, telling her, “perhaps it’ll be good for her to get out of Winding Road.”

Aertis just nodded, whispering, “maybe.” Then she strode past Charel Moonglow and into the packhouse.

The entryway was lit by a beautiful, ornate golden chandelier, under which stood Bella Moonglow, Lyria’s mother. She was taking coats from some of the guests who had worn them, even though it was a pleasant, balmy evening. She was also holding a book, and as Aertis approached she looked down at it and said, “Ah, Aertis, I’m surprised to see you here. It seems like the ball is mostly our unmated wolves.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t want to miss this event! You know, my father can’t say no to me,” she said with a little roguish smirk.

“Well, you and Lyria are seated right next to the table of honor, dear,” Bella Moonglow said, consulting the book.

“Thank you,” Aertis said as she breezed into the large ballroom. Glancing around, she saw the head table on the opposite end of the room, already filled. Alpha Windmere sat in the center. On the right, Aertis’s father sat with her mother. To Alpha Windmere’s left sat his wife, the Luna, and their eldest daughter, Aidria Windmere. Aidria was the same age as Lyria and Aertis, twenty-two, and she had beautiful, delicate features. If it were not for Lyria, Aidria would be the most beautiful wolf in Winding Road Pack. Aidria always resented Lyria for that, and she also resented Aertis for being friends with Lyria.

Seated in front of the head table was the table of honor, and around it sat six distinguished looking male wolves, clearly from the Castle Wolfsblood. They were all somewhat older, one even had grey hair, and they wore fine suits of silk and velvet.

Looking to the right of the table of honor, Aertis saw a smaller, less grand table. Lyria was seated closest to the table of honor, with a few other wolves around her. The seat to Lyria’s right was empty, and Aertis hurried along to the table, dropping gratefully into the seat.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Lyria giggled, gesturing around at the many tall golden candlestick holders and the wall tapestries that Alpha Windmere saved for very special occasions.

“It is,” Aertis said, “I’ve never seen some of these,” she added, gesturing at the tapestries. They contained beautiful, intricate scenes from the Goddess lore, and some were threaded with passages from Voice of the Goddess, the sacred text of the Wolfsblood Kingdom.

“Nor have I,” Lyria said, in awe.

The room was still filling up with the young wolves attending the ball in the hopes of attracting the attention of the King’s delegates. With over a thousand wolves living on Winding Road territory, there were plenty of eligible women to choose from. 

However, the room wasn’t even completely full when the first of the King’s delegates approached Lyria.

“You look lovely,” he said in a gruff, low voice.

Standing, Lyria curtsied respectfully. “Thank you,” she said as she stood back up. “Would you care to sit?” she asked, pulling back the chair to her left.

“Thank you, how gracious,” the delegate said. “You know, we aren’t supposed to speak to the candidates until after dinner, but I simply couldn’t resist asking for your name.”

“I’m Lyria Moonglow,” she replied with a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

“Well, you are certainly stunning. May I ask your pedigree?” 

“Well, sir, my family are…” she looked down for a brief second, embarrassed, but seemed to find some steeliness hidden inside her. She took a deep breath, then looked up unabashedly, “Omegas. But I am a Warrior. I’ve held my position for over two years now.”

“Impressive,” the King’s delegate said. “You know, such upward movement is rare,” he said thoughtfully, looking into Lyria’s eyes.

“I know, sir. I worked very hard to get where I am, and I am fortunate to have had parents who encouraged me as well.”

“Fortunate indeed, Lyria Moonglow. Find me after the dinner. You are a most interesting young wolf, and I would like to hear more of your story.”

Before Lyria could respond, the King’s delegate had swept back to his own table, sitting down with his back to her. Lyria looked dazed. After a moment, she gave a faint smile, staring down into her lap.

She didn’t want to participate in the contest, but she was a natural competitor. Now, in the ballroom, and faced with the challenge of being compared to other wolves, she couldn’t squash the feeling of pride welling inside her at having been noticed so quickly.