The Impostor Luna

He's My Mate? !

Nora

“Are you slighting His Majesty as a savage?” Marcus's expression grew dark as he snarled and stormed forward, roughly pushing Adam from his perch. Rachel and Rebecca recoiled instinctively, pressing themselves back against the seats. Bracing myself, I lifted my chin defiantly.

Just as the general's hand reached for the curtain, a new, commanding voice cut through the tension. “Enough.”

The voice was far from thunderous, but carried a lazy authority that was impossible to ignore.

Marcus immediately stepped aside and bowed to him. "Your Majesty."

"Do not show such disrespect to the princess, General. Have your men step back three paces—you’ve crowded the place enough to stifle the air," Clyde commanded, his hand outstretched to help Adam up, yet radiating a chill that lingered in the air. "You alright?"

"I am fine, Your Majesty," Adam stammered, opting to pull himself up as if contact with a king was a line he dared not cross.

I fixed my gaze on Clyde Murphy, half-expecting a scene out of a horror tale to unfold before me. Instead, his demeanor threw me for a loop. Where was the unrestrained barbarian I’d imagined? Why did he seem almost... easygoing? Was this an elaborate facade? Hypocrisy in the flesh? Very much like King Theodore’s feigned warmth at the abbey gates. Come on, Nora, stay on your toes.

Clyde chuckled softly, clearly entertained by Adam's nervousness. As he shifted his gaze to me, Rachel and Rebecca’s eyes widened. It was that classic response when an irresistible Alpha graces the scene.

Clothed entirely in black, Clyde’s opulent fur cloak draped over his shoulders. His platinum blonde hair and ice-blue eyes cut a striking figure. His high cheekbones and flawless skin appeared sculpted by a master artisan, crowned by arched eyebrows and a teasing smirk that epitomized the careless allure of a nonchalant playboy. I’d expected a sly silver fox nearing forty, yet was met by a bewilderingly youthful visage instead.

As his hand lifted the curtain, an electric connection seemed to crackle in the narrow space between us, sending my heart racing wildly to my throat. "Now that I’ve come in person, it’s time to step out, Princess,"his voice tinged with a magnetic pull I couldn't ignore.

"It’s too cold outside," I protested, shivering as the icy wind crept into the carriage. "Can’t I stay inside until we reach your palace?" I ventured, trying to sound both innocent and reasonable.

"Southern flower, this isn't even the coldest time in the North," he teased softly, his words wrapped in a gentle taunt. "We can travel there in my carriage, but your soldiers will have to stay behind."

"And my maids?" I asked, trying to mask the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind.

"Your call," he replied casually, barely sparing them a glance, his unwavering gaze firmly set on mine as if daring me to look away.

“Let’s go, Your Highness,” Rebecca urged, preparing to help me down.

Yet I resolutely ignored her hand.

Having Rebecca and Rachel around was like carrying the weight of an unwanted royal entourage. They served as the eyes and ears for King Theodore or Princess Cynthia, ensuring my every move aligned with the court's expectations. Their presence was a constant reminder of my shackles. But did I mention I had a plan? Because I do.

While the royal family might believe they have me caught in their web, I've been weaving my own threads for escape. Once settled in Frostfall, I’d correspond with my sister. The moment I confirm she’s found her mate and safely left Emerald City, I’ll melt away from Frostfall’s icy grasp too. As for where I’d land, perhaps somewhere like White Harbor with its promises of endless sun and sandy beaches—a place I've dreamed of through the pages of books.

And if Clyde Murphy decides to wage war on King Theodore after I vanish?

Well, that would be their problem, not mine.

As Theodore himself noted, this is to be my final act in the role of his daughter.

In my imagination, my spirit was already strolling along sunlit shores, with the cries of seagulls echoing in the skies. That is, until Rachel’s voice jolted me back to reality.

"Your Highness?"

"I'll go alone with King Murphy. You two shall return to Emerald City," I asserted calmly, my words carrying an unexpected certainty that surprised even me.

Rebecca and Rachel gaped at me as if I'd suggested they sprout wings and fly home on their own.

"But, Your Highness… without us, who will serve you?" Rachel pressed, her smile teetering at the brink.

I nearly laughed at her question.

How ironic.

Isn't it always I am the one serving them instead?

So no, I'd try my best not to have them around.

"Although we’re guests, King Murphy may not like too many strangers wandering in his place. Besides, there’s no way that Frostfall will be short on staff. I'm sure King Murphy has everything arranged," I said, turning my gaze toward Clyde with a mixture of challenge and curiosity. "Isn’t that right?"

Clyde raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by our little interplay. "Rest easy, ladies. I’ll see to the princess’s comfort," he assured smoothly.Extending his hand toward me. His eyes held mine, and I took his hand with deliberate caution.

I managed a smile, but the moment my fingers brushed his skin, a current of electricity raced through me, igniting fireworks in my veins.

My mate.

Leave it to fate—Clyde Murphy is my goddamned mate.

I jerked up my head, staring at him in astonishment. Immediately, a captivating scent hit me. Hate to admit it, but what the Moon Goddess had arranged was truly unparalleled. The smell wafting off him was akin to wood—if wood could somehow be seductive—and it had a deadly allure for me, even outdoing the aroma of roasting meat.

My mouth watered.

My mind drew a complete blank.

He was my mate.

My. f*****g. Mate.

I had conjured up countless scenarios and strategies for meeting Clyde, but none of them prepared me for discovering he was my mate, leaving me utterly speechless. I opened my mouth, only to realize I had no idea what to say.