The dining hall lay cloaked in shadows, illuminated only by the flickering glow of candlelight. A feast fit for royalty was laid before us, rich in roasted meats, fresh breads, and an array of delicacies that would make a lesser queen feel honored. Yet, I could only muster a cold disdain as my gaze drifted across the table to the man seated across from me—Alpha King Marcus.
He sat there with an ease that bordered on arrogance, his eyes meeting mine with an unfathomable glint. He looked every bit the king in his fine, tailored tunic, shoulders squared, his bearing as solid as the throne he occupied. It was maddening, the way he seemed so comfortable, as though this was all a game to him—a game he knew he could win.
“Good evening, my queen,” he greeted me, his voice smooth and unruffled, w
