A/N: Extra long chapter since you guys had to wait a week for me to come back from spring break :) enjoy!

***

Sloane

We couldn't sneak me in the first day. Or the second for that matter. We had so many different plans and ideas on where, when, and how I could get out on the island. Every contingency taken into account. But the first two days of the Ball, the Port was under intense lockdown. Rumor had it that the Inquisitor was eyeing anyone who was trying to get onto the ferry.

Kane and I considered going under water to the cave on the Island. Unfortunately, our water nymphs told us that for the Ball there is extra security on the waterways. My only hope is the ferry...on day three. The last day of the Ball.

My wolf huffs in annoyance. We've been very nervous and giddy. The patience I'm trying to have is thinning away. I have to stay clear-minded despite everything fogging.

"You'll get in." Joshua crosses his arms. We're standing just outside the Port. Their lighthouse in the distance as we watch ferries coming in and out of the Port.

We've been waiting all day. The sun is now setting in the horizon. My breaths deeper and my hands twitching. I'm having to hold my wolf back to try and control her as much as possible.

My eyes fall onto the Royal Island. It's been years since Josh, Kane, and I lived there. Our holding was comfortable, and it was the closest we had ever gotten to the King. We were able to recruit several supernatural's—not just wolves. A few Elementals, vampires, and others who decided to join our cause.

Ironically, I really enjoyed living on the Island. Josh and I would blow off steam together. It was the closest we ever had to a normal life. To living our twenties like you'd expect someone in their youth to live. I remember going to bars and clubs with fellow Rebels. There were times we'd go to concerts—listening to different bands and their music.

Remember that one band, my wolf chuckles. The one's dressed as Playboy bunnies? What were they called again?

I think for a moment, Kaspian's Crew?

Yes! My wolf chuckles, That was one hell of a night.

I smile at her comment. Reminiscing on the memories I made on the Island. It was when no one really knew what the Rebellion was. We were quite free—very secretive. Even Joshua loved it there if not for the castle. Whenever we'd see it, which it's quite impossible to miss, it would just remind us of why we're doing what we are.

"I just got word." Kane appears behind us. I turn over my shoulder to look at him. Josh is wearing a large, hooded cloak—typically worn by Kane, but he's nervous being so close to the Mind Warper.

Kane on the other hand is wearing a dark coat with no hood. His white hair glowing under the golden hour of the sunset.

"The Mind Warper has returned to the Island." Kane says with a soft smile. His eyes landing on me, "You'll have an opening around dinner time when the Alpha and Luna of the Port go back to their packhouse."

I grin with giddiness—once I'm in the castle, I just have to avoid the Inquisitor. The plan is that as soon as I arrive to the Island, I'll meet with one of our undercover Rebels. She's been working on the island for years—bartending at a local pub. Only now has she received approval to join the castle staff.

It'll take a week or two to set up but somehow, I'll take her identity in the castle, and she'll move out of the island. We'll trade identities later tonight after the Ball. Tonight, I'm just meant to do a few rounds in the castle—mapping it out to start planning where I'll need to be or go once I'm inside. After which, it should be smooth sailing for the next few months. Or at least, that's what we can hope.

We just need to stick to the plan. My wolf encourages me.

"You need to start heading to the Port." Kane instructs me with a sad smile.

I take a step but stop as Joshua grabs my wrist, turning me towards him. I smile up to him softly which he returns sadly. "Sloane please..."

Josh's eyes scan over my face carefully. I can see him gulp nervously as he runs his hands down my arms before gently laying them on my shoulders. I lean forward, placing a small kiss on his lips. "I promise I'll be careful." I tell him gently.

Joshua nods, embracing me closer. He hugs me tightly to him, placing a few kisses on my forehead. On my head. His arms squeezing me. I know he's scared that he won't be close by. That he won't be able to defend me if shit hits the fan. I know if he was going on a solo mission, I'd feel the same way.

We already talked over everything last night. Having slow kisses and long conversations together. Josh and I practically said goodbye to make sure neither of us would get overly emotional now. Still...an unbelievable amount of sadness and nervousness radiates off the both of us.

I pull away first and Josh smiles, "You're going to kick ass."

"Of course, she is." Kane eyes us both over. I squeeze Joshua's hand before turning to Kane. He flicks his head at me, his arms opening.

I walk into Kane's embrace—feeling his arms squeezing my shoulders close to him. He embraces me for a long time. Something I'm not used to and I'm somewhat surprised to feel. It hits me—Kane is worried. Most times when I leave for a mission, he just ruffles his fingers through my hair, winks at me, and wishes me good luck. But not now...

"Make sure to light the candles," Kane says gently. "Tell us you're safe, okay?"

"I promise," I pull away slightly. Looking down at the medallion around my neck. Kane gifted it to me years and years ago. When I was still just a kid. It's the Celtic symbol for our Rebellion. Kane found it and thought it suited me so well. Many people don't know it, but this medallion is what started the Branding of the Rebellion. It's what Kane and Joshua got seared into them.

I take a deep breath. It's the only sign of the Rebellion that I have. Taking it off, I feel even more naked without it. Not having my swords or my medallion. I don't even feel like myself. Everything about me is being stripped to my wolf and me.

I smile softly, grabbing Kane's hand and placing the medallion in his palm. "Make sure you don't lose it," I tell him.

"I won't, kiddo." He says sincerely. Already placing the medallion around his neck.

"And make sure the Rebellion stays put together." I nearly scowl him like a parent telling their kids to watch over the house for a weekend.

Kane chuckles, "Joshua and I will manage it like just as you'd want. If we need Hala, we'll light the candle."

Kane pulls out a small box from his pocket. He hands it to me, and I open it—confused when I see a beautiful red and black Venetian mask. I look up at Kane, my eyebrows furrowed.

"The theme tonight is masquerade." Kane shrugs it off, "I thought it would suit your dress."

I close the box, smiling up at Kane. Remembering the many times he's shown me true fatherly love and affection over the years. He's homeschooled Josh and me—helping me with math homework. Teaching us different languages. Making sure when were young to tuck us into bed. He's always provided for us.

I bite my lip, my wolf despondent as we realize that he's not going to be there to guide us. My eyes glance at the suitcase behind Kane—it has my dress, some clothes, made up paperwork, and my candles. That's all I'll have with me.

"Thank you," I pull Kane in for another hug. This time, I squeeze him. Taking deep breaths and letting his scent soothe me. I close my eyes—trying not to let this get the best of me.

I'm excited—I am. But...leaving Kane and Joshua. Being on my own. This will be new for me. I'll only have my wolf, my instinct, and my training. I'll have to hope that it's enough.

****

I showed the invitation for the Ball to the ferry goers. They asked me questions that were quite extensive and emptied all the contents of my suitcase—making sure I wasn't bringing in any weapons or anything. They didn't really blink twice over the clothes or candles. Most of it is confidence and the fact that it's day three means that most of the guards don't expect anything to happen. They've probably been incredibly surveillant for two days, their attitudes less guarded now.

Before I knew it, I was on my way to the Island in a ferry with plenty other people. As soon as we stepped off, we had to do a second round of checks. More guards going through my suitcase. I got a few questions over the candles which I simply said I'm carrying to place in the cemetery where I have a dead family member. A lie, but it made them feel bad enough that they let them through.

As expected, our Rebel partner let me into her home. She's around my age—a werewolf. Her home is quaint and nice—a cute apartment that has a view of the castle in the distance. It reminds me of a tiny studio apartment in Paris that has a small view like the one from Ratatouille.

She let's me keep my suitcase in her room. Giving me time to quickly get ready by showering, giving me some dinner. The both of us talking about mundane things like what movies she likes. Sometimes, it's nice not having to always talk about the Rebellion. I think she's quite shocked by how casual I'm being.

After dinner, we quickly shift the conversation. As I get into my dress I ask her, "Does anyone else know I'm here?"

Kane picked out the dress for me. We had to do research on what kind of gowns would be worn. It reeks an elevated elegance that I've never experienced or worn before. I don't even know what he had to do to get it.

The dress itself a deep wine red with a puffy bottom. The top corset is sleeveless, and it bares my shoulders and collar. I don't have any jewelry, but I do have the mask for the masquerade.

"No one knows." The Rebel girl watches me carefully. There's a small smirk on her face as she eyes over my dress. "You need earrings."

"I don't have any." I can't help but chuckle. "It's not like we have shops at the camp."

The girl smiles—maneuvering around her room. Opening a drawer where she pulls out a small pair of gold earrings. They're both tiny little moons that are glistening with flecks of black. I quickly realize it's meteorite dust. "Here," She says calmly.

"I couldn't possibly—"

"Take them." She grabs my hand, placing them in the palm of my hand. Pressing them in. "It's the reason I'm part of the Rebellion. You may not have our Brand, but you can always find something that gives you a reminder of why we joined."

My wolf purrs in my head. This is something that we love about our cause. The King and loyalists believe we are all terrible and awful people. Most of us are just average ordinary people. We're kind and always willing to help. There's only one thing that makes our blood boil.

"Then it'll be my honor." I tell her sincerely. Clipping the earrings quickly. I look myself in the mirror, hardly recognizing who I am with such elegant clothes. The Rebel girl hands me some make up. I apply some mascara and eyeshadow that makes my iris pop.

You look beautiful, Sloane. My wolf is purring so loudly it's vibrating deep in my chest. It makes me smile.

Ready to do something dangerous? I ask her.

Death to the Crown, my wolf howls.

I put on the mask, it covers a majority of my face. Everything from my cheekbones to my forehead. The black around the eyes making my silver irises glisten in contrast. I can't help the wicked smile that spreads on my lips. My nervousness slowly being replaced with excitement.

"And long live the Rebellion." I say out loud under my breath.

****

"Invitation?" The Royal Guard asks me. My mind is completely elsewhere. I can't believe how big the castle is. My jaw is on the floor as I stare up at the massive front doors. I've seen it so many times but never this close—only ever from afar.

I hand over the invitation to the guard, unmoving my gaze from the castle. There are so many people already entering. The aroma and aura's of Alpha's, Beta's, and other wolves hitting my senses. It's overwhelming. Not to mention the scent of magic, vampiric Elders, nymphs, and so many other supernatural's.

Regardless, everything is incredibly...opulent.

"How did you get this invitation?" The guard asks.

"It was mailed to me." I let my eyebrows furrow as I turn to the guard. Trying to be annoyed by his questioning.

"Why only come on the third day?" He points down at the invitation where they glaze over a seal that signifies the attendance of each day. In my case, day one and two are empty.

I smirk, "I had to fly all the way from France. You try having a twelve-hour layover in New York. Even my luggage was lost except my carry on. If you don't want to let me in, then don't. But at least, point me somewhere I can find a good drink because I definitely need one."

The guard eyes me over, the edge of his lip raising in the slightest manner. He adds the seal on my invitation and points me into the castle. "Enjoy your night."

"Open bar?" I ask him. He nods and I smile, "Then I'll enjoy it plenty."

I take the invitation and head inside with the masses. The Ball has already been in motion for a few hours. The sound of music, laughs, drinks, and more—all echoing from the main ballroom. Others are walking around the halls, admiring the artwork along the walls. It really does look like a museum.

The first thing I notice when I walk in is the throne room doors are open. At the very end of the room is the King's Throne. My heart starts pounding and I look around.

Check it out, my wolf eggs me on.

I take only a step because the throne room has guards standing idly by the walls. I also notice some guests that are inside—looking up and I join them. As soon as I walk in, I feel...power. My breath catching at the ceiling. It's angelic and incredibly delicate. It looks like it belongs to the Renaissance era. Wolves running through the forest before shifting into humans. Almost like the history of Lycanthropes have been captured beautifully.

My eyes land on the throne chair. My wolf starting to vibrate inside me as the power gets stronger. Radiating off the throne like the moon itself is intertwined in the headboard and arm rests. It's a large black—almost obsidian chair. It looks like bits of meteors have been laced through with gold. It's giving a blueish hue and glow while the gold shimmers.

I follow the crowd through the halls. Walking slowly so I can...take it all in. It's just so hauntingly incredible. I don't think I'm fully able to comprehend this place. People walk through here every day, all day, and probably don't take the time to look through it properly. To understand how incredibly incredible it all is.

I recall living in shitty motels. Camping during the spring and fall when the weather was nice. It's not that I didn't expect this opulence and extravagance. It's just so extravagant it's staggering. When I turn into the main entrance foyer, it really blows me away. That one person gets all of this.

He didn't even earn this...My wolf rolls her eyes in my head.

I slowly walk down the hall, looking at old paintings of previous Kings and Queens. Appalled to see portraits of all of them. Even the worst of the worst like King Earnest—notoriously known for committing genocide with other supernatural creatures. Or Kings who led countless wars.

There are trinkets, old cabinets, some ancient shields, or armor. Most of the riches were earned, looted, stolen, maybe gifted—by people or people's who sought mercy from their King. A single monarch is so powerful...when there's no one to check on what they do. The least King Aiden could do is eliminate these riches that are tainted with terrible histories. Or I don't know...donate it.

I go through the castle, my mind mentally trying to memorize everything. How the hallways curve, where the doors are, windows. Everything that I'm trying to sear into my brain. Once I'm working here, I'll be able to get a better feeling of where everything is.

I pass by what I can assume is the library. Royal guards standing outside the doors as myself and other guests walk in to see the magnificent beauty. I'll admit, the library is stunning. It reeks of magic. My stomach sinks slightly though. How I'll sift through all this knowledge is going to be tedious—to say the least. I have not a clue how I'll even start looking for information, but I decide not to worry about that now. I need to look like everyone else right now. In awe like some sort of tourist who is grateful to be here.

For about an hour or so, I manage to keep a low profile. Everyone wearing masks. My dress fitting in with all the other women. I've been trying to avoid the ballroom, but I also don't want to look suspicious not attending the dance. My wolf urges me as the music gets louder.

I walk into the Ballroom—people are dancing, laughing, drinking. The music in the corner is live with a small orchestra and band. Their sounds echoing in the enormous hall. Mirrors, chandeliers, gold, statues—all of it dripping lavishly and with fortune.

"Champagne ma'am?" A server walks by with a tray full of glasses.

I smile politely, taking a glass delicately. I walk along the sides of the ballroom—sipping carefully. I decide to people-watch. My eyes falling on several Alpha's. Some of them have Mates on their arms. Others are laughing and conversing together. I might not be able to see their faces, but their auras are pulsating off of them.

It makes my wolf and I choke. Not because of the power but because the testosterone in the room is quite stenchful.

As I'm slowly walking deeper into the room, I take a small sip of my champagne. A man lightly runs into me as he's rushing out of the ball. Holding a newly opened bottle of whiskey. His free hand catching my arm to stop my glass from spilling. His fingers and grasp cold as ice, it sends a chill down my back like a blast of air conditioning just hit me.

"Apologies." He says curtly.

I meet his eyes briefly—the mask covering his face is as white as his hair. His eyes are an incredible bright blue like the very pits of a glacier have surfaced. I notice his skin is pale and his aura is cold. It doesn't feel like the coldness that comes from a vampire. It's different. Freezing.

The Alpha of the Sierra. My wolf vibrates in my head. My eyes widening slightly as I feel my jaw slack.

We don't have any wolves from the Sierra in the Rebellion. They're an incredibly close-knit pack—completely closed off. Living in terrible and harsh conditions. There are so many stories of Alpha Alexander—infamous for being ruthless and unforgiving. He had to earn his title of Alpha—unlike most packs who let their children inherit the position. The Sierra can't have a weak Alpha. Or at least...that's what we've been told.

Rumor has it that his pack is more powerful than the Spartan's. There aren't a lot of warrior packs in the United States. Mostly the Spartan's are looked at as being the fighters. But that's also because the Sierra is neutral—like Switzerland. Hardly do they ever get involved and when they do, it's said that one Sierran wolf has the power of ten normal wolves. They're built different. But again...that's what we've been told.

Alpha Alexander curtly bows his head, as if apologizing again, before heading straight to the front of the ballroom. I can already see him undoing his bow tie as he walks under the doorway entrance. Popping open the whiskey and swinging it back.

Looks like even the ruthless get bored of bureaucratic parties, my wolf snickers.

As I watch Alexander leave, my gaze meets a pair of purple eyes. The purple-eyed man is wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask that covers half his face vertically. He has midnight dark hair and handsome features. His head tilts at me, staring intently at my eyes. I casually turn away, taking another sip of my drink.

I begin walking deeper into the crowd. The hairs on the back of my neck standing as my wolf suddenly feels unsettled. I look over my shoulder, the man with purple eyes getting closer.

I glance at the end of the ballroom. There's a makeshift throne but nowhere do I catch a glimpse or whiff of King Aiden. I do notice his Beta standing by the throne. His eyes like a hawk as he looks over the entire crowd.

I stop along some people who are dancing. Feeling someone staring at the back of my head. My wolf starts pacing. Itching to become defensive. My hands twitching for my swords that aren't there.

Be careful, Sloane. She growls it anxiously. I push her back. I have to stay in control—I need to be clear-minded.

Turning, I instantly meet the purple eyes again. The man staring at me closely. It's starting to freak me out and make me unnerved. In a few steps, he's standing in front of me. His eyes narrowing as I offer an innocent smile.

"You're following me." I say flatly.

"Moreso admiring." The man grins devilishly. I decide to stay quiet. Now that he's closer, he smells like magic and lemons. "You've never heard of making eye contact on the other side of the room? You're quite stunning."

"Smooth talker, aren't you?" I narrow my sight at him.

He winks at me, grabbing the glass from my hand, dropping it on a server's tray as he walks by. My heart starts pounding in my chest. I don't know how to act in this situation, but I keep calm. Watching carefully as the man offers me his hand.

"Would you care for a dance?" He asks with a smile. I look him over—he's wearing royal attire. The sigil of the King—a fleur-de-lis—clipped to his chest.

My wolf retreats in my head. She loves battling—loves sending me energy and strength. Whenever I'm wielding swords, she's always there for me. Cautiously guiding me and making sure I'm strong. But dancing?

All you, Sloane. She chuckles in my head.

I don't feel like I have much of a choice. I return his smile kindly, placing my hand in his as he leads me to the dance floor. One hand holding onto mine as the other lays on the small of my back. Not once does he stop staring at my eyes.

I know my eyes are...different. I know that sometimes people think that I have a Gift because their color is not common in wolves. Wolves are known for having intense eyes—like most supernatural's. But gray isn't a natural color and sometimes people think I'm a Witch. It's not the first time my eyes have gotten me into trouble.

We dance quietly for a few moments. His purple iris glistening, "I haven't seen you here before."

"I'm not from the island." I answer shortly.

His gaze travels to my wrist, eyebrow raising when he notices no Brand. Maybe it should look conspicuous to not have a Brand, but one of the reasons the plan is meant to work well is because of my lack of Branding. Most of our Rebels have faded Brands from rejecting their packs. At the very least, I never and have never belonged anywhere.

"Clearly, not from anywhere." He grins, stepping us to the side with the music. He twirls me around and I try not to admit that it was quite enjoyable. "Just...an apparition."

I narrow my eyes at him. Somewhat insulted. What gives him the right to just make assumptions? I can't help but ask, "And you are?"

He tilts his head, eyes blazing. "My name is Killian. And your name, My Lady?"

Every instinct in my body wants me to run away. Wants me to look away from his strong gaze. My body stiffening slightly. He pretends not to notice. A small smirk still appearing on his lips.

My heart starts pounding as my wolf tries not to push forward defensively. So much for avoiding the Inquisitor. He spotted me in the first five minutes of being in the ballroom. I push back the panic—recognizing that I'll need to...improvise.

I can't look away from his eyes—he might get suspicious. He could Mind Warp me. Joshua's words and his experience ringing through my head. I try not to think of it, focusing on the fact that Killian the Inquisitor is dancing with me.

Killian frowns slightly, his smile unwavering. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Just surprised." I tell him honestly. My eyes narrowing to challenge him, "You're quite famous."

Killian shrugs, "Others are considered more famous."

"Right..." The song comes to an end. I step away from Killian, both of us applauding along with everyone else. "Well, thank you for the dance. Killian."

I turn to head back towards the crowd. Killian quickly comes to my side—his hand finding the small of my back. He eyes me up and down from the side. "Come with me," He says quite firmly.

My wolf starts growling as Killian steers me in a different direction. I feel a kind of nervousness I've never dealt with before. For the first time, I realize I'm alone. Joshua and Kane aren't here. I don't even have my swords. I'm in the Lion's den and one of the biggest, baddest Lions is walking me towards the outside terrace.

"You know," I decide to go for a Hail Mary. "I don't know what kind of impression you got but you're not my type."

Killian chuckles, opening the glass door that leads to the terrace. It's a large stone balcony. It overlooks a garden and the ocean. The moon full above us. "I just want to talk," Killian says.

I take a few steps towards the railing. Eyeing over for an exit strategy but I can't find. Maybe he brought me here on purpose. I turn over my shoulder, Killian watching me carefully with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You still haven't told me who you are." Killian says calmly.

Don't panic. My wolf urges me.

I meet his purple eyes, deciding to stare him head on. I may be afraid deep down, but as long as I don't look it then he can't tell. I hope anyways.

"Where did you come from?" Killian steps towards me.

I take a step towards him, "France."

"You don't sound French."

"I'm American."

"Mmm..." Killian tilts his head to the side—I can't tell if he's skeptical. His eyes flaring as he smiles. "How cultural."

I give it a few seconds as I realize we're in a staring contest together. Licking my lips, I go for my rehearsed story. "Do you know L'école Durendal?"

"Of course," Killian eyes me over. "How long were you there for?"

"A few years." I say,

"Student or instructor?"

"Both. I helped them with some of their classes."

Killian smiles softly, "I still don't know your name."

I hesitate but answer anyways. My voice soft and nearly under my breath, "Sloane."

Killian nods a few times. He looks like he's taking it all in. It makes me very unsettled and nervous. I finally turn away from him—unable to handle it any longer. The smell of lemon and magic is getting to my head. I lean over the railing, letting my arms sink into the stone below me as I inhale the ocean scent.

We're done for, I tell my wolf.

No, not yet. She replies.

"I want you to wait right here." Killian says before quickly adding, "Please."

Well...shit. My wolf sighs, Run?

I bite my lip as Killian disappears back into the ballroom. My mind wandering to all kinds of possibilities. He might be getting back up. Reinforcements. Maybe he didn't Mind Warp me in the room because there are so many people around. He's probably going to lead me to where all our Rebels are.

I start to mentally prepare for the torture I'm going to endure. For the pain that Joshua told me about. I'm not going to be able to light the candles. I think to the Rebellion. I just have to hold out for three days. My wolf sending me reassurance that she'll help me.

I recall the horror stories. Mind Warpers can kill people with their minds. They can warp reality, your emotions, and feelings. Control you like puppets.

My heart pounds. I look over the stone railing. I could try to jump. But what good does that do if I live? I'm on an island. There's no way out. If I run away now, it'll only send off alarm bells. The entire Island would be put under lockdown, and they'll eventually find me.

For a brief moment, I consider jumping just to see if it'll kill me. At least then, they wouldn't be able to get into my head about the Rebellion. My wolf growls at the thought—instantly pushing it out of my mind.

I should have let Joshua come. I'm an idiot. I promised Kane and Josh I would be okay. For the first time ever, I don't know if I can own up to that promise.

I close my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm myself. I think of Tommy. How I have to do this for him. My wolf vibrating in the back of my head. Trying to send me emotional support. I already miss having my band of Rebels supporting me.

I hear the glass door open. The music and sounds of the party streaking onto the terrace. I take a deep breath, ready to face the Inquisitor and whatever he has in store.

Instead of inhaling lemon and magic, I'm suddenly clouded by a rich, warm, musky scent of amber and cedar. Hints of vetiver and bergamot that makes the musk a bit fresher and lighter. It smells...incredible. Matured and manly. My mouth nearly drooling as I feel flutters rock me through me.

My wolf swooning with me. That's a man, she purrs in my head.

I turn to look over my shoulder. My stomach and mouth drooping. My body tensing and even my wolf doesn't know how to react. The smallest of a growl rumbling within her as I slowly stand.

I see the Crown. So eloquently placed on his golden curls. Pure anger flares in the pit of my stomach. For years, I didn't think I would ever experience it in person. I didn't think I would be so close that I can see the moonlight glisten on the many jewels.

My heartrate picks up. My eyes widen as I realize—in utter and complete shock—that the King is standing a few feet away. I've imagined him in my head a million times. I've pictured him and this is both exactly and not at all what I expected.

It feels surreal to see him. Wearing a royal tunic with what looks like a thousand buttons. A mantel trailing behind him. The Crown...Goddess the Crown is incredibly elaborate. Gold, and black, and diamonds. Sitting on his head while he carries it like it weighs as if made of feathers.

His shoulders are incredibly broad. His arms massive—tall like no one I've ever experienced. It's the way he's carrying himself. His aura radiating power that makes my wolf growl. Everything feels...regally nuclear.

I nervously turn my body in his direction as he slowly takes off the gold and black mask that's covering his face. His entire face angular, sharp...beautiful. Like it's been graced by Renaissance artists and sculptors.

I hate him, I tell my wolf.

Me too, Sloane. She growls lowly.

King Aiden turns to me. His golden eyes landing on mine. They nearly burn with intensity like looking at gold melting in a furnace. It makes you want to pull away. But before I could even consider doing so, my eyes widen as my breath catches.

Helplessly, I watch as silver glazes across King Aiden's eyes. I feel my own eyes do the same. My wolf silencing in the back of my mind as realization that we've just had the Glaze sinks into us. My heart beating loudly in my chest. 

No...I tell myself.

No way, my wolf slacks.

Shock coursing through me as I realize why he smells so extraordinary. Why he feels even more intense suddenly. An abrupt pull reaching into the pit of my stomach. The energy around him shifting and I can't help but feel...

No fucking way, I reiterate.

Sloane...My wolf takes a deep breath, The King is our Mate, which means...

My mind is unable to comprehend what's happening before me. I must be having a nightmare. I need to wake up. Wake up!

King Aiden tilts his head to the side. Eyeing me carefully. He takes a step towards me, and I stay frozen in place. His voice coming out deep and thick and sweet like pouring honey.

"I've waited for you for a long time." His golden eyes blazing. Barely tilting his head down in a small bow. "My Queen."

***

A/N: God Aiden is so hot. That's all I have to say. Gah this story is going to be a slow burn get ready. Strap in. We're just now getting into the rollercoaster seats. Every chapter before this was basically waiting in those long ass lines to get onto the ride. Here we gooooooooo

Comments? Lemme know haha.