The Royal Pack were not devout believers, but the mansion where Lynsandra was to accommodate her harem had a small chapel—a chapel meant for prayer and sanctity. A place where everyone was free to go, yet also the last place anyone would choose to visit.
Silence filled the space, steeped in quiet prayer, with one of the pews occupied by a single person.
Evander Merewyn.
His long white hair, tied in a low bun, rested unmoving against his back. His hands were clasped in prayer, eyes closed, knees resting on the pew's hassock, his expression calm and peaceful.
Moments later, he felt movement beside him. The kneeler shifted slightly as another weight settled on its opposite side.
Slowly, Evander fluttered his eyelashes open, his gaze lifting to the beautiful altar, where the goddess's statue stood gloriously beneath the moonlight filtering through the stained glass.
"When the Goddess held the hand of her own destiny, she promised one thing," he whispered, his voice soothing like a lullaby. "That only when the moon fades into nothing will her love for her one true destiny disappear."
Then he turned his head, meeting a pair of russet eyes looking back at him as their owner knelt at arm's length away.
Lynsandra.
"Luna," he called softly. "When one is lost, the only way to find the right path is by seeking Her guidance."
Her red lips curled into a small smile that never reached her eyes. Lynsandra studied Evander, a devout believer and what humans would call a priest in their world.
His face was delicate, his features carrying an almost ethereal softness. Like an angel descended upon the world to cleanse it of its sins. He was beautiful—angelically so.
"Was joining my harem the path She revealed as the answer to the Church's prayers, Your Eminence?" she asked, her lashes fluttering as her gaze lingered on the altar. "Because this harem was the answer the Goddess showed me when I sought Her so desperately."
Evander pressed his lips together, his attention momentarily fixed on her refined side profile. A shallow breath slipped through his nostrils as he tore his gaze away and closed his eyes once more.
"Luna, I once learned that prayers are meant to be uttered quietly—so quietly they echo only within your heart. After all, the Goddess isn't the only one listening." He reopened his eyes and stared at the altar. "Even the devil listens."
"It is not too late for you to abolish this thing you have built," he added.
Lynsandra did not answer immediately, her eyes drifting toward the statue, sculpted so beautifully that one might wonder if the sculptor had once been the Goddess's lover.
"The Royal Pack may not be devout believers like the Church, but we still follow the practices and traditions passed down by the lunar Goddess," she said, her soft voice echoing through the quiet chapel. "The selection of a Luna was a common practice for an alpha who had lost his mate—or had none. And when that happens, the Church offers its full support."
"And yet, under the same conditions, with the only difference being that it is not a Luna we are seeking, the Church calls the Royal Pack's decision blasphemous," she continued. "It does not anger me. Rather, it amuses me."
This time, she turned to him and smiled. "And having you here in my harem only doubles that fascination."
Slowly, Lynsandra rose to her feet, her gaze lowering to where he still knelt. Her eyelids drooped dangerously, the curve of her smirk widening just slightly.
"Your Eminence, do you know what I would call blasphemous?" she hummed, watching as he lifted his gaze to her. "If I were to appear here naked. Though I think you're right—prayers should be uttered in pure silence, echoed only by the heart. After all, not only is the Goddess listening… I am listening to yours as well."
A light chuckle escaped her lips as she added, "It's about time for dinner, Your Eminence. I would be most pleased if you joined me. Let us not disappoint tradition."
With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, the sharp click of her stilettos echoing against the marble floor with each step.
Evander, the young High Priest of the Church, sighed heavily. Listening to the fading sound of her footsteps, he turned back toward the altar.
"Oh, Goddess," he whispered, closing his eyes as he finished his prayer. "May you forgive the Luna and guide her back to the path you prepared for her."
*****
Meanwhile, in the main residence's dining area, tension hung thick in the air as each man's expression darkened. Cassian—the little superstar and half-bred wolf of the harem—glared daggers at Elias, second in line to the Northern Pack.
"You…" Cassian growled lowly, his hands curling into fists. The hair on his arms thickened as his nails sharpened.
"That's my seat!" he barked childishly. "I got there first!"
Elias tilted his head away slightly, tugging on his earlobe. "If you got here first, then why am I the one sitting here?"
Cassian's tantrum stemmed from the fact that Elias and August had taken the seats closest to the vacant one at the head of the table—where Lynsandra would soon sit. Cassian had arrived first, but after realizing he had forgotten a gift he prepared for her, he had stepped out briefly.
When he returned, the two were already seated.
Everyone else had arrived as well, leaving Cassian stranded at the farthest seat.
As Cassian continued berating the playful Elias and the indifferent August, Gareth—seated across from the superstar—shrank into his chair.
Just why did I think taking Gary's position was a good idea? Gareth thought, nervously sweeping his gaze across the long table.
There were eight seats in total. The head seat remained empty, awaiting Lynsandra's arrival, while the opposite end had no chair at all. Each place was arranged with considerable space between them, making those seated farther away feel impossibly distant from her.
For Gareth, that distance was a relief. For Cassian—who already claimed himself Lynsandra's beloved husband—it was a nightmare.
Closest to the head seat sat August on the right and Elias on the left, facing one another. Next to them were the two who had arrived before them, their mere presence igniting tension the moment they appeared.
The vampire and the pure human.
Gareth gulped as he studied the pale beauty with shiny silver hair seated beside August.
A pure vampire in the harem… I didn't even know they were part of the selection.
His gaze shifted to the man seated across from the vampire, on Elias's side. This one, Gareth recognized.
Julian Pierce.
Gareth closed his eyes and sighed heavily.
Why is there even a pure human here… and him, of all people?
Werewolves and other creatures—whatever they were—had long since blended into the human world. Every person seated here, whether vampire or wolf, held roles beyond their supernatural origins, contributing to human society in their own ways.
Even so, although Gareth did not know Julian personally, he had heard of him. Or rather, he heard of Pierce Holding Corporation.
Even a human candidate is a hundred times better than Gary, Gareth sighed inwardly. Yet everyone in our pack thinks the Royal Pack needs them.
At the far end of the table sat the fuming Cassian, the sensational global superstar, and Gareth himself.
The chair beside Gareth was empty as well, but he could guess who would be sitting there. Only one member of the harem had yet to arrive.
Evander Merewyn.
Surrounded by such figures, Gareth felt smaller than ever. Even hiding behind his brother's identity—Gary—changed nothing.
"If you don't give up that seat, I swear I'll—"
Cassian's outburst was cut short when the door swung open, followed by an alluring voice.
"It's only been a few hours together, and I see you are all getting along quite well."
Every head turned toward the sound, harmonizing with the soft click of stilettos against the floor. There she stood—the beautiful Luna of the Royal Pack—dressed in a simple yet elegant suit that hugged her form, accentuating her curves.
The men straightened instinctively, eyes fixed on the woman approaching the table. However, their expressions soured when they noticed Evander trailing behind her.
"Hah…" Elias scoffed quietly. "Look at that little priest, acting righteous while already scheming to get a head start."
Evander halted as sharp, malicious gazes followed him. After a brief pause, he turned and calmly pulled out the chair beside Gareth.
At the same time, Lynsandra reached her seat. Her steps slowed as August rose and drew out the chair for her.
"Well, aren't you a gentleman?" she mused, and he returned her gaze with a dangerously charming smile.
"Of course," he quipped.
Cassian's face twisted sourly at the gesture, though he held his tongue as Lynsandra sat and August returned to his seat.
Her gaze swept over the men, her red lips curling upward.
"Before we begin," she said, her voice cool, confident, and alluring, "congratulations on making it this far… and welcome to my harem."