Calla's pov
"We've met."
My heart jumped. He was talking to me.
I blinked, taking him in. He stood close enough that I could feel the warmth of the memorial hall still trapped between us. His eyes were bright green, almost glowing. Unnatural. Otherworldly.
Then, just as quickly, they shifted. Cold, beautiful grey.
"Yes. Briefly. Last night, at the memorial hall," I said, keeping my voice steady under the full weight of his attention.
He didn't just look at me. He examined. It felt like his eyes were peeling back layers. I shifted my weight slightly, suddenly aware of every other person in the room. Gladys was watching too. Everyone was.
"What is your name?"
His voice dropped lower. A soft sound that still carried the feeling of a coming storm. His eyes shifted again — hazel now, deep and shadowed, as though they moved with his mood.
"Calla," I answered, keeping my tone light despite the pressure of it.
"Calla." He repeated it like he was testing the weight of it. Clean. Deliberate.
I held his gaze. He blinked once, slow and controlled, and somehow that made him feel more dangerous.
"I want a silent coronation," he said, his voice calm and sharp at once. "Who do you think handles the planning best?"
The question landed on my shoulders like cold iron. I felt every eye in the room shift.
Gladys was watching steadily. Elara's gaze was locked on mine, waiting. Apex Blood had just asked the rogue werewolf with no pack for her opinion. A sudden wicked urge to smirk moved through me.
"Derata Dusk of the Luminary Pack has handled many large festivals," I said, my voice clear and firm. "Most were held in Sterling Pack territory. I can assure you, Your Highness, she will make you proud."
"Callie." Gladys's voice cut in, low and warning.
I ignored him. My eyes stayed on Apex.
He lowered his gaze. A small, tight frown crossed his brow. One of his elder sisters reached for his hand on the table.
"I'm fine," he murmured to her. The strength in his voice didn't waver even in that tenderness. Something about the small, private gesture made my chest feel tight.
A moment later, the raven on his shoulder ruffled its wings and flew out of the hall. The abrupt departure surprised me.
Apex looked back at me and nodded, something settling behind his eyes.
"We'll decide with a trial of competition."
Elara straightened immediately, her whole posture sharpening with pride. "Your Highness, when and where?" Her gaze cut to Derata, slow and venomous. "I can't wait to see what you bring. Though I doubt it will be worth noticing."
The words left me before I could stop them.
"I will be the one drawing the arrows. Not her."
Stunned silence. Jasper's glare found me across the table. Gladys's face was hard and unreadable.
I ignored them both and exhaled slowly, eyes down. Archery. The first time I would touch a bow in five years. My fingers already felt the phantom ache of the wood.
"Tonight," Apex said. His eyes hadn't left me. "In my kingdom. Whoever wins hosts the coronation, earns my favor, and secures a seal deal for their pack."
"Your Highness." Elara's tone turned sweet and deliberate. "Can the werewolves come too?"
Silence again. She wanted an audience. A bigger stage for her glory and my humiliation. The Lycan Beta beside Apex nodded, unsurprised, as though he had anticipated the question.
"Yes." The reply was cold and final.
Elara's smirk found me immediately.
"Too bad you'll be facing more than you can handle. Good thing you're a rogue with no family. No one will care if you embarrass yourself."
Derata rose. I pressed a hand to her arm. Better to wait and let tonight speak.
Apex left with his sisters and Beta. The remaining werewolves sat tense in the quiet he left behind.
Gladys rose and crossed toward me. "This is your treatment?"
I said nothing.
He reached for my hands. Alpha Aedric stepped between them, prying his fingers loose. "I invited her. She's my guest."
"She's my—" The word died halfway. He had remembered. We were nothing.
He straightened, said nothing more, and led Elara out. Jasper followed, silent and sharp. They left without looking back.
"Callie, you can't do this." Derata turned to me the moment they were gone. Aedric and his Beta stayed close. "It has been five years since you touched a weapon. Don't start now for my sake. You made a vow."
She was right. I stayed quiet, letting the truth of it settle.
Then I turned to Aedric.
"I won't push you," he said quietly, his expression steady. "But a sealed deal with the Lycan Kingdom, Derata becoming the first werewolf to host a coronation." He let the weight of it rest between us. "My honor, but your choice. Will you do it?"