Right now, I was torn between two equally unappealing prospects: watching my sister get claimed in this dreaded mating ceremony or enduring another minute with her insufferable mate.
I mulled over this as I sat at my desk in my private office.
I was sifting through a mountain of paperwork, my mind still simmering. Our family had a rich history, filled with kings and queens. How could a lowly human like him be worthy of Arya?
I set my pen down and stood up, starting to pace. Mike was cunning and slimy, his only claim to fame being his so-called business. I knew all about his business.
He was a drug dealer, clever enough to hide his tracks even while being deep in debt to his supplier.
I walked over to my file cabinet and pulled out the file I’d compiled on Mike. I flipped through it yet again.
Sadly, there was no way to convince Arya of his true nature without solid proof, and despite my best men shadowing him every time he left my property, I had nothing.
Let’s get one thing straight—if it wasn’t a grave sin to harm a loved one’s mate, I’d have had him six feet under by now, just for my peace of mind.
I slammed the file shut and rubbed my forehead. The thought of Mike rotting in my dungeon was the only thing keeping me sane through this whole ordeal.
But as the wedding drew closer, I found myself growing more desperate. I started to fear that she might actually go through with it.
I was partly to blame for funding this extravagant event—I reminded myself as I returned to my chair and sat down.
I’d hurled my laptop out a second-story window after finding out about her relationship with him. We’d had a huge fight, and I’d felt guilty afterward.
I rubbed my face and groaned. She was my sister, and while I could try to change her mind, ultimately, it had to be her decision. The least I could do as her brother was to foot the bill, right?
I opened a different drawer that held a thick stack of receipts and bills. Packs from all over were expecting a grand event for their princess’s mating ceremony, and I wouldn’t let her be shamed by anything less.
Honestly, though, I wished she’d stop calling it a damned wedding.
Wolves don’t have weddings—humans do. Humans like her mate, who wasn’t even worthy of the ground she walked on.
Her assistant, Harriet, had thankfully helped me push back on a few elements to make the ceremony more suitable for our kind, but then she had to go and give birth a month early.
I saw a receipt from the new planner, Rory, that made me wince. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for Harriet.
Harriet was a sweet omega with a gentle nature, and she was mated to one of my personal guards, but her timing could’ve been better.
I had thought Harriet’s early labor might be a lucky break, but the moment Harriet had called to tell Arya the news, my dear sister was already on the phone with a wedding planner from the city.
I had assumed contracts like that took time to arrange, but no, she booked her so quickly that I didn’t even get a chance to stop it.
I looked at another new bill for a few hundred dollars for placeholders. What the hell were placeholders?
So now I was paying for a ‘wedding,’ and there was another human roaming around my palace. Arya was lucky that I loved her.
I signed off on the receipt and started writing checks reluctantly. Without our parents, Arya was all I had left, and the thought of her running off with that scumbag made my blood boil.
It was my duty to protect her, but how could I do that when she was hell-bent on running off with a human?
“What’s got you frowning?” Arya’s teasing question snapped me out of my thoughts as she walked into my office.
“The budget, or rather, the lack of it,” I replied. But we both knew I would’ve given her twice as much if she had asked.
“Did the rose petal red carpet push it over the edge?” She held up a bill covered in floral arrangements, and I rolled my eyes.
I hadn’t met this new “wedding planner” of hers yet, but she’d already cost me thousands in changes.
I wished those silly magazines would preach “less is more” for once, not that the wedding planner would show those options if they did. They worked on commission, didn’t they?
“Are you even listening to me, Darius?” Arya chided, and I raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief.
“Should I be?”
“You’re the worst. Seriously! Cheer up before Mike gets here, okay? He still thinks you don’t approve of him, and we can’t have that with only a few days left,” she pouted, and I gave her a tight smile.
Her phone buzzed loudly against the ancient table our grandfathers had once used to discuss war and politics.
Would they be turning in their graves knowing it was now covered in satin and confetti? Probably not. Their lunas must’ve had their fair share of grand parties and events just like Arya’s.
I turned away from her and looked out the window at the vast estate below. I wished I could find my luna already.
Below, the family coat of arms was etched into the shrubbery. I stared at it, feeling the weight of our heritage.
I’d been waiting for twelve years. Twelve long years filled with the expectations of my people for me to find a luna and produce an heir to the Batton throne.
Personally, I didn’t care about the perfect luna or heir. I just wanted to find my mate. It was lonely, ruling alone. I turned back to my desk, trying to refocus on my world.
As Arya departed, the future started to look more and more grim. My hope was dwindling fast. As a king, it was my duty to protect and serve my people, but I was feeling increasingly helpless.
I was in desperate need of assistance, but my luna was nowhere to be found. And even if I did find her, would she be willing to shoulder the burden of becoming my queen?
There was a photograph on my desk. It was of my parents, Arya, and me when we were just pups. Over the years, numerous women had approached me, offering themselves to be my chosen mate.
Sure, they might be suitable for the role, but they couldn’t be my mate. I didn’t want someone who was cold and calculating. I yearned for what my parents had. I longed for my other half, the woman who the Goddess herself had crafted to be my perfect match.
But did it even matter? She wasn’t here, and for all I knew, she might never show up.
