The first sight of the City of Wolves stole Yvonne's breath.
It rose like a mountain carved by gods, silver walls gleaming under the midsummer sun, their peaks topped with banners that rippled in the breeze. Symbols of wolves, etched in stone, embroidered in silk, hammered into bronze, seemed to watch her from every angle, a reminder of who ruled here.
Her brother Yurre let out a low whistle beside her. "Magnificent, isn't it?"
"Arrogant," Yvonne muttered, arms folded as their wagon rattled closer along the cobbled road. "Like they own the word wolves."
"They kind of do," Maya whispered from her other side, eyes wide with awe.
Yvonne rolled her eyes. She would not be cowed, not by big walls or shiny marble or a city that named itself as if the rest of them were nothing. The Sky Wolves had power, yes, but they weren't gods.
Still, even she had to admit the city was breathtaking. Towers of pale stone rose high into the sky, each topped with carved statues of wolves in mid-howl. Bridges arched over canals that glittered with sunlight. And at the center, looming over everything else, was the Sky Wolves' manor, more palace than home, its spires piercing the clouds.
"Remember to behave," Yurre murmured, green eyes sharp on her.
Yvonne scoffed. "I always behave."
Maya snorted so loudly Yvonne kicked her shin under the bench.
They entered through the massive iron gates, guarded by wolves in dark uniforms. Yvonne could feel their eyes tracking the group from her clan, and heat rose in her chest at their disdain. They were small, yes, but small did not mean weak.
As their wagon clattered through the streets, children pointed, adults whispered. Yvonne lifted her chin higher, refusing to let them see her squirm.
Finally, they were herded toward an inn reserved for visiting clans. The others busied themselves with unpacking, but Yvonne had never been one to sit still. As soon as Maya turned her back, she slipped away, weaving through the crowd until she found herself in one of the palace courtyards.
It was quieter here, the bustle of the city fading into the rush of fountains and the murmur of leaves in the wind. Statues lined the paths, more wolves, always wolves. She groaned, dragging her hand down her face.
And then she crashed into him.
Quite literally.
Her shoulder slammed into a wall of muscle, sending her stumbling back. She caught herself with a curse, glaring up at the man she had run into.
Tall, so tall, with broad shoulders, chestnut hair falling into sharp features, and eyes the color of storm clouds. He wore a simple black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, but there was nothing simple about him. Power clung to him like a second skin, the kind that made the air heavy.
"Watch where you're going," he said, voice low, smooth, and edged with authority.
Yvonne bristled immediately. "You watch where you're standing. Who puts themselves in the middle of a walkway?"
His brows lifted a fraction, as if no one had dared speak to him that way before. "I wasn't in the middle. You weren't looking."
"I was exploring," she snapped, brushing dirt from her skirts. "Not my fault your city is obsessed with making everything shiny enough to blind me."
Something flickered in his eyes, amusement maybe, but his face remained unreadable. "You're not from here."
"Clearly," she shot back. "And thank the gods for that."
For a moment they simply stared at each other, the silence stretched taut as a bowstring. His gaze dipped, just briefly, to her lips before snapping back up. Heat coiled in her stomach, unexpected and unwanted.
Yvonne forced herself to break the tension, brushing past him. "Next time, move."
She didn't see his faint smirk as she stormed away, heart thudding harder than it should have.
----
By the time Maya found her again, dragging her back toward the inn with an anxious hiss of "Do you want to get us all killed," Yvonne had convinced herself the encounter meant nothing. Just a random stranger with a superiority complex.
But later, when they were summoned to the grand hall for the evening's gathering, her blood froze.
Because there he was.
At the far end of the hall, standing before the council of Sky Wolves, clad now in ceremonial black and silver. The man she had snapped at, the one she had stormed away from, was no mere stranger.
It was him.
Lux. The Alpha of the Sky Wolves.
Their host. Their ruler.
The man everyone whispered about.
And his storm-gray eyes found hers across the hall, sharp, unblinking, and far too knowing.