Rosaline and Ciara, after purchasing the fabrics and materials they needed from the merchant stalls, decided to stay a little longer in the capital. The city was alive with energy and color, and despite their original plans to leave that evening, the capital's charm tugged at their hearts.
"A day's just not enough," Ciara had whined for the better part of an hour, tugging Rosaline's sleeve like a child begging for sweets.
"We haven't even seen the Moonstone Fountain or the Royal Gardens!"
Rosaline finally relented, not because she was eager to extend their stay..but to hush her best friend's relentless begging.
"Fine," she sighed, feigning exasperation. "One more day. But only because I fear you might start crying in the streets."
"Oh please," Ciara rolled her eyes dramatically. "It's called enthusiasm, thank you very much."
As the golden sun dipped below the hills, casting the capital in the soft hues of dusk, Rosaline felt a strange tug in her chest. It wasn't just exhaustion. It was as though the air itself was calling to her.
After settling their inn payment for another night, the girls spent the day wandering through the heart of the capital-watching street performers breathe fire, sampling roasted chestnuts, and browsing trinkets from exotic lands. By sundown, they were drained from the sensory overload.
Their feet ached, their hands were filled with parcels, and their laughter had grown soft with weariness. They finally returned to the modest inn tucked in the quieter part of the capital, ready to collapse into their beds.
Rosaline flopped onto the bed for a moment but felt her heart beat a little too loudly in her chest. Something was pulling at her...an inexplicable tug in her soul that she couldn't ignore.
Rosaline stood and walked to the window, watching the night awaken outside. Laughter floated in from the streets, mingled with the sounds of music and the scent of roasting chestnuts and spiced cider. The capital was alive with celebration...something about the moon's alignment, she'd heard.
She turned toward her best friend. "Ciara, are you completely spent or... do you still want to check out the night festival before we leave tomorrow? I heard the Night Festival's starting. The lanterns will be lit, and there's supposed to be a moon dance near the center square."
Ciara groaned, sprawled across her bed like a melted candle. She raised one hand and waved lazily, not even lifting her head. "No thanks. I'm done for today."
she drawled, her voice muffled against the pillow. "Why? Are you still in the mood to go out?"
Rosaline hesitated. "I don't know why, but I feel like I need to go out tonight. Like if I don't... I'll be missing out on something important."
Ciara peeked an eye open at her friend, curiosity piqued. "Seriously? You're sounding a bit dramatic, Rosie. What do you think you're going to miss?"
Rosaline shook her head, unable to explain the feeling swirling inside her. "I don't know. It's just… a gut feeling."
Ciara sighed, then sat up with a mischievous smirk, stretching like a cat. "You and your strange feelings. Ugh, Alright, let's go. I don't want you guilt-tripping me forever.
I can't have you finding some life-changing moment without me there to witness it. And besides, I need something juicy to tell Liam when I get back.
He's going to regret not coming with us. I will tell him that I danced under lantern lights in the capital, while he stayed back in the village like a boring goat herder.""
Rosaline laughed, her eyes lighting up. "That's the spirit. Come on, tiger."
With that, they both freshened up quickly, tying their hair back and wrapping scarves around their shoulders before venturing back out into the glowing capital streets, swept away by the music, laughter, and dancing lights of the festival.
Meanwhile, amidst the bustling streets…
King Darius Silverthrone was fighting a different kind of battle.
His simple clothing did nothing to conceal the storm brewing inside him. The scent hit him like a crashing wave...pinewood and roses, a combination so perfect it nearly brought him to his knees.
His wolf, Dan, stirred violently, whispering the word he had always dreaded:
Mate.
"Mate… mate… mine…" the words growled from his throat like thunder.
Beside him, Marcus stiffened. He knew that voice, that sound.....he knew what it meant.
"She's here," Marcus whispered, stunned. "Your mate is here."
Darius trembled, every fiber of his being resisting the call. His hands clenched into fists, jaw tight. His wolf clawed at the surface, demanding to be released.
"The Moon Goddess has finally blessed you," Marcus murmured, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Don't fight it, Darius. It'll only make things worse. You will only end up hurting yourself. Go to her."
"I..." Darius gritted his teeth, trying to anchor himself in the chaos of the festival. "I never wanted this, Marcus. You know that. I don't believe in fate."
"Whether you believe in fate or not," Marcus said calmly, "it seems fate believes in you."
He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the curses of those he bumped into, eyes wild, nose flaring. The scent was overwhelming, maddening, seductive.
The scent wrapped around Darius like a chain, pulling him forward. He moved through the crowd, barely hearing the curses and gasps of people he shoved past. His focus was singular. He was possessed.
And then… he saw her.
She was laughing.....his mate.....her smile lighting up her face like moonlight.
A girl with dark curls and honeyed skin, laughing beside another girl. A firecracker sparkled in her hand, her smile glowing beneath the lantern light. and everything else faded into a blur.
His heart stilled.
Time stood still.
The air disappeared.
Everything else faded.
His feet moved on their own. He crossed the space between them like a man in a trance, until he was standing right before her.
Rosaline looked up, her laughter fading. Her breath hitched the moment their eyes met.
And then she felt it too.
Her heart stopped.....and raced all at once. She didn't know this man. She didn't even know why he stood there, eyes burning with something ancient and primal.
But something inside her recognized him.
Darius stepped closer. She didn't move. Her eyes widened, lips parting slightly. He reached up and raised a trembling hand, gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Her skin burned under his touch.
The world dimmed around them. The festival vanished. Only the two of them remained.
"Mine," he growled softly, voice deep and rough with emotion. "Mate…"
Rosaline blinked, unable to speak. Her body refused to move away. Her own instincts warred inside her....fear and wonder colliding in her chest.
Darius leaned in, slowly, his breath brushing her lips. And then… he kissed her.
Soft at first....tender, testing...but quickly turning urgent, possessive. His arms coiled around her waist, dragging her closer as though proximity alone could satisfy the ache.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was searing, desperate, like a man tasting salvation for the first time.
The firecracker fell from her hand and burst behind them, unnoticed
Rosaline gasped into the kiss, her hands instinctively pressing against his chest, but not to push him away. To feel the heat of him.
From the side, Ciara stood frozen a few feet away, mouth agape. She was stunned speechless.
Darius's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him, growling low as their kiss deepened.
He kissed her lips, then her cheek, then moved to her neck...his fangs just barely grazing her skin.
To her neck.
His lips hovered there. Breathing her in, His fangs lengthened. The pull to mark her was unbearable.
His wolf demanded it.
His wolf wanted to mark her. To claim her.