Arin's POV
The knife slipped through the vegetables with a practiced rhythm.
Arin had been in the kitchens since the afternoon bells rang. Along with a dozen other servants, she was helping prepare the evening meal. The head cook barked orders. People rushed around stirring pots and chopping food. Steam rose from boiling water and filled the air with moisture.
Nobody was talking about the ritual anymore. They were all too busy working.
Arin focused on the carrots in front of her. Slice. Next. Slice. Next. It was easier than thinking about the Alpha King walking through the corridors. Easier than remembering the weight in his eyes.
The crystal at her neck had cooled down about an hour ago. Now it just felt like a regular pendant. Regular and heavy and like it was waiting for something.
The kitchen doors burst open.
A woman strode in like she owned the space. She was tall with silver-streaked black hair pulled back tight. Her eyes were grey and cold and calculating. They swept across the kitchen like she was looking for something specific.
When those eyes landed on Arin, they stopped.
The woman walked straight toward her.
Everyone else in the kitchen pretended to be very focused on their work. Arin recognized the woman from the palace corridors. Elena Darkwood. A council member. Someone important.
Someone dangerous.
"You're the healer from Silver Creek," Elena said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes ma'am," Arin whispered.
Elena's expression didn't change. She just reached out and grabbed Arin's wrist. Her grip was strong and cold and didn't allow for any argument.
"Come with me. Now."
She pulled Arin away from the counter before the girl could even set down the knife. Didn't explain. Didn't apologize. Just pulled her out of the kitchens and into the palace corridors.
Arin's healing sense tingled immediately.
Someone was sick. Really sick. She could feel it the way she felt fevers and broken bones and the shadow of death lingering in people's bodies. Something was very wrong with someone.
"Where are we going?" Arin asked, nearly running to keep up with Elena's long strides.
"A council member has collapsed," Elena said without looking back. "You're going to heal him."
They were moving deeper into the palace now. Away from the main corridors with their servants and guards. The stone around them felt older. The air felt heavier. Arin recognized where they were heading. She could feel it like a vibration in her bones.
The ritual chambers.
The corridors became narrower. The torches on the walls burned a sickly green color. The symbols carved into the stone made Arin's skin prickle. These were old magic symbols. The kind her grandmother had whispered about when she thought no one was listening.
Elena pulled her faster.
They came to a stop in front of massive black doors carved with symbols that seemed to move when Arin wasn't looking directly at them. The air around the doors felt thick and wrong. Like reality was thinner here.
"What is this place?" Arin whispered.
"The only place that matters tonight," Elena said.
She yanked Arin toward the doors.
They swung open silently, and suddenly Arin was standing in the ritual chamber.
The space was enormous. The ceiling stretched so high she couldn't see it. The walls were carved black stone that seemed to absorb light. And in the center of the chamber, five robed figures stood at perfect intervals, chanting in a language that sounded older than speech itself.
The magic in the air was so thick Arin could taste copper on her tongue.
But it was the people that made her freezing cold.
The council members lined the walls, watching. Guards stood at every entrance. And at the far end of the chamber stood the Alpha King in ceremonial black clothes. His grey eyes were fixed straight ahead. Waiting.
Across from him stood Mira Ashfall.
She wore white. Her fire-red hair flowed down her back. Her amber eyes burned with triumph. She was ready to be Luna. Ready to bind herself to power and status and the most powerful man in five territories.
Arin understood then why Elena had brought her here.
The council member who had collapsed wasn't sick at all.
This was something else entirely.
Elena's hand was still tight around Arin's wrist. The older woman leaned down and whispered in her ear so only Arin could hear.
"The ritual must not be interrupted," Elena said softly. "No matter what happens. No matter what you see or hear. Stay quiet and stay still. Understood?"
"I don't understand," Arin breathed. "Why did you bring me here? Why would a healer need to be in the ritual chamber?"
Elena's grip tightened until it hurt.
"Because sometimes things go wrong," Elena whispered. "And the Alpha King needs to know that if his bond doesn't take, we have other options prepared."
The chanting grew louder.
The magic in the air thickened until the whole chamber seemed to vibrate with power. The robed elders' voices rose in unison, speaking words that made the stone beneath Arin's feet hum.
The Alpha King took a step toward Mira.
This was it. This was the moment. Arin could feel the magic building like a storm. In seconds, they would be bound. Two packs would become one. The curse would have to stop.
Everything would change.
Mira smiled and extended her hand toward the Alpha King.
And Arin's crystal exploded with heat.
It burned against her chest so intensely she gasped. The pain was sharp and sudden and all-consuming. She tried to pull away from Elena but the older woman held her firm.
"Stay still," Elena hissed.
But Arin couldn't. The crystal was burning through her skin. The pain was blinding her. The magic in the chamber was reaching toward her like it was alive and hungry.
The chanting reached a fever pitch.
The robed elders' hands began to glow with golden light.
The Alpha King and Mira were moving toward each other, their hands reaching out to touch.
This was the moment when everything would be sealed. When the ritual would be complete and the bond would lock into place.
The moment when everything would change forever.
Elena suddenly shoved Arin forward.
Hard.
Arin stumbled into the center of the chamber.
Straight toward the Alpha King.
Straight into the path of the completing ritual.
The magic that had been building for weeks, centuries maybe, recognized her presence.
And it screamed.