Marcus stood frozen for a moment, completely taken aback by the sight before him. The king of Silvervale, his closest friend, Darius Silverthrone—usually so composed, cold, and calculated—was standing in the middle of the street with a woman wrapped in his arms. But this wasn't just any kiss. This was primal. This was raw. This was the kiss of a man who had found his mate.
When he'd first heard Darius mutter that sacred word....."Mate…".....
Marcus's heart had leapt with joy. He remembered that feeling himself, the indescribable pull that tethered you to someone for life. He had been thrilled, even a little relieved. After years of watching Darius push away the very idea of fated love, Marcus had begun to doubt he'd ever embrace it. But tonight, something had changed.
Still, Marcus hadn't expected this.
He'd followed closely when Darius had taken off, his nostrils flaring as if chasing a ghost in the wind. He could tell by the king's frenzied movements that the pull was strong....undeniable, even. And when Darius found her, standing in the glow of firecrackers and laughter, Marcus watched with bated breath.
She was beautiful.....striking in a way that felt both earthly and celestial. Her laugh had a warmth that seemed to melt the icy shell around Darius in an instant.
But instead of asking her name, or where she was from, or who she was… Darius simply took her in his arms and kissed her like the world was ending.
It was passionate. Possessive. Full of the hunger of a wolf finding what he thought he'd never have.
Marcus's mouth parted in shock. This wasn't just a kiss.....it was a claim.
The two of them....Darius and the mysterious girl....were completely lost in each other. They paid no attention to their surroundings, oblivious to the growing stares and whispers of onlookers. People were already beginning to notice.
People around them had started to slow, their conversations fading as curious eyes turned toward the unexpected display of a lady tangled in the arms of a stranger. The whispering had begun, and Marcus knew it would only be moments before the crowd became more than just curious.
Marcus would have left them in their little bubble of bliss, if he hadn't seen what happened next...Darius's lips brushing from her mouth to her cheek… down to her neck.
He could see it in his friend's eyes.
He recognized that look in Darius's glowing golden eyes. The intent to mark her. Right there. In public.....
Marcus's heart stopped. His eyes widened.
Oh no.
Panic shot through Marcus.
Once the marking happened, it would be irreversible. The bond would take over, making them inseparable. And frankly he had no issue with with,but it was with what comes next after the marking.
Full blown mating...
And he can't have that happening right there in public as well, he's the king for crying out loud.
Marcus lunged forward.
"Darius!" he called, his voice sharp and commanding. It cut through the fog of desire clouding the king's mind.
Darius was lost.
Not in thought. Not in confusion. But in her.
In the way her lips felt beneath his. In her scent.....intoxicating, maddening. Like wildflowers after the rain. She fit against him like she'd always belonged there. And he didn't care who saw.
He'd kissed many women before.Touched them. Bed them. But none of them had ever made his heart race like this. None of them had stirred the beast within him the way she did.
His wolf had risen in full force, clawing at his insides, demanding to claim her. And gods help him.....he had almost obeyed.
His lips brushed her neck, warm and soft, the perfect spot to mark.
"DARIUS!"
The voice broke through his trance like a splash of ice-cold water.
He blinked.
Marcus.
Reality came rushing back like a tide.
He had almost marked her. In front of everyone.
Darius's head snapped up, as if waking from a trance. His breath was ragged, eyes still glowing, lips parted in confusion and frustration.
Marcus stepped closer. "Not here," he said firmly, his eyes darting to the gathering crowd. "Not like this."
It took a moment, but clarity began to return to Darius's eyes. His gaze fell back on the girl in his arms.....on Rosaline...and he took a shaky step back. Then another.
He needed distance....space...just to think. Just to stop himself from kissing her all over again. His hands dropped from her waist, and he stared at her like she was the sun and moon rolled into one.
And there she stood.
Gorgeous.....Breathtaking....
Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of their kiss, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. She looked stunned, dazed even. Her eyes searched his, questions dancing in their depths, but her lips remained parted in silence. Her lips, slightly parted, still tingled from where his had claimed hers.
They stared at each other, both lost for words. The silence between them was deafening, filled with everything they wanted to say, but couldn't.
They both stood there, surrounded by music and people, but locked in a bubble of awkward, electric quiet.
And then..
"What the actual hell just happened right now?" Ciara's voice rang out, slicing the moment open.
She stormed forward and stood between Rosaline and the two men, her eyes narrowed and blazing with confusion and protectiveness.
"Who are you?" she demanded, glaring at Darius. "And what did you just do to my friend?"
Darius blinked, then took a breath, his voice hoarse from restraint. "She's my mate."
Ciara's mouth dropped open. "Your what?"
Rosaline placed a hand on her friend's arm, silently begging her to stop, to calm down. But she didn't understand either. She'd felt something strange, something powerful...but she didn't even know this man's name. She didn't know why the very feel of his lips had made her knees buckle, or why her heart now thundered like a war drum in her chest.
Marcus, sensing the tension rising, took charge. "We can't talk here. Let's go somewhere more private," he said firmly.
He turned to Rosaline and Ciara. "Please. There are too many eyes and ears here. And this… this isn't a conversation to be had in the street."
Rosaline glanced at Ciara, who crossed her arms but gave a sharp nod. "Fine. But if either of you try anything funny, I swear to the moon goddess, I'll scream this place down."
Marcus actually chuckled. "Noted."
They began walking, Marcus leading them away from the festival crowd to a quieter corner of the capital, just outside the town square where the lights were softer and the buzz of celebration distant.
Darius walked beside Rosaline but kept a respectful distance now, though his gaze remained fixed on her. She could feel the intensity of his eyes on her skin. It wasn't uncomfortable....it was magnetic.
After a moment, his voice cut through the silence between them.
"What's your name?" he asked, softly.
She turned to look at him, her heart still fluttering in her chest. "Rosaline," she said. "Rosaline Hartley."
He repeated it slowly, like the name itself was sacred. "Rosaline…"
"And you?" she asked.
Darius met her eyes. "Darius Silverthrone."
Ciara gasped beside her, and Rosaline's own eyes widened. The king? The man who had kissed her like he owned her… was the king?