The morning air was heavy with frost.
The sprawling grounds of House Caerwyn gleamed under a thin veil of snow, the stone paths slick and treacherous.
Cassian sat before the mirror in his chambers, Jamie's deft hands arranging the final touches of his attire.
A fitted coat of midnight blue.
Silver embroidery curling like ivy along the cuffs and hem.
The House sigil—a crowned wolf—gleamed proudly at his shoulder.
Cassian touched the fabric lightly, grounding himself.
The court gathering today would be critical.
Duchess Ariadne's visit had not been mere formality—it had been a warning. A thinly veiled threat.
He needed allies.
He needed... information.
And above all, he needed to remember what he had learned in that other life:
Trust no one.
---
Jamie fastened the last clasp and stepped back.
"You are ready, young master," he said, voice quiet but firm.
Cassian rose, meeting his own gaze in the mirror.
Eyes sharp.
Posture unyielding.
"Let's begin, then," he murmured.
---
The Grand Hall of Court was a masterpiece of polished marble and high, arched ceilings.
Sunlight scattered through towering stained-glass windows, throwing fractured rainbows across the noble crowd gathered below.
Cassian entered with measured steps, feeling the ripple his presence caused.
Heads turned.
Voices dropped to whispers.
The young heir of Caerwyn — and an omega at that — walking alone into a pit of vipers.
Cassian kept his chin high.
He had survived worse.
---
Near the high dais, where the council seats sat in strict hierarchy, a small commotion stirred.
The doors at the opposite end of the hall swung open again.
Another figure entered, flanked by no herald, no entourage—only silence trailing in his wake.
The crowd shifted uneasily, as if instinctively making way.
The man moved like a blade—graceful, lethal, restrained. His coat was a stark black, embroidered only with minimal silver threading, and he wore no family sigil visible to the eye.
Only one mark gleamed faintly at his throat—a small, almost invisible insignia that few recognized.
Enigma.
Above even Alphas, stronger than any known rank, Enigmas were creatures of myth and rumor—so rare that most noble houses claimed to have never seen one.
Born once in a generation, if at all.
Enigmas were not controlled by the traditional Houses.
They answered only to the old Crown, and even then, at a distance.
To cross one was to invite ruin.
To court one was to gamble your House's future.
---
Cassian's eyes narrowed slightly, studying the newcomer.
Something deep inside him stirred—a sharp instinct he had learned not to ignore.
Danger. Leashed, for now.
The man moved past him without a glance.
Cassian exhaled slowly.
He had no name for this new player on the board.
Not yet.
But he knew instinctively:
This one would change everything.