Asrai

Chapter18: Addressing concerns...new worries

I felt my fingers tighten around the fork, the polished silver suddenly cold in my grip. “ Oh, Lord Sylien It wasn’t about lack,” I said, my voice taut but steady. “To me , it was more about necessity.”

A soft hum drifted across the table— Lady Nyssara( Lord Syliens right hand.. ofcourse), her tone airy and dangerous. “Necessity,” she murmured, “often wears the mask of escape.”

Before I could respond, Vianna let out a sharp, humorless snort. “Please.” She leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowing. “She didn’t just leave—she vanished. No word, no trace. And now she strolls back in, draped in fae silk, as if nothing ever happened.”

She tipped her glass back and sipped from her glass. The stem hit the table with a muted thud.

Eyes flicked toward me.

Toward her.

Uncovering the widening c***k between us.

The wolves bristled.

The fae watched with predatory interest.

Gran cleared her throat, poised to speak, but Aunt Alexandria lifted a brow—an elegant, razor‑thin gesture.

“Vianna’s not wrong,” she said, her tone cool and impeccably measured. “You vanished without a word, Asrai. We were worried.” Her gaze swept over me, assessing, weighing. “And now you return—seated among council and royalty—as if the last few years were nothing more than a brief holiday.”

She folded her hands, the movement precise.

“What exactly are we meant to make of that?”

She spoke so coyly as if the Royal line were not in my blood .

She said it like my presence at the table was a mistake—like I’d wandered into a room meant for others. I knew Aunt Alex and Vianna didn't favor me and they have never been shy is showing their distate infront of the pack but to do it tonight of all nights and infront of guest was a new height of embarrassment.

Tallis finally looked up. “I think the better question we should ask is what she learned. And whether it’s worth the silence she’s kept.”

I believe that would be more beneficial.... Alexandria .. and Vianna. Then airing out petty grievances.

Vince shifted beside me, protective. “ I agree. She doesn’t owe anyone a confession. She came back because she was asked.”

Lord Nyssara scoffed. “Asked? Or summoned? There’s a difference.”

My mothers voice cut through the tension, calm but firm. “She’s my daughter. And she returned when it mattered. That should be enough.”

Lord Sylien tilted his head. “But is it enough for the realm?”

I rose slowly, the soft rustle of my gown brushing the floor like a whisper. “I didn’t return to be judged,” I said, my voice steady. I met Sylien’s gaze—and Aunt Alex’s. “I came back because it was my responsibility.”

Vianna let out a dry chuckle, but I didn’t falter. “There are more pressing matters at hand. And if you’re all too busy dissecting my choices to notice, that’s on you. If you have questions about my travels, I have no issue answering them. But it will be on my time, and with whomever I choose.”

Silence fell again—heavier this time, thick with unspoken truths and the weight of my words.

Nyra Vex leaned back, a slow grin tugging at her lips. “Well. That was… unexpected.”

Mr. Bram Ironhide gave a low, approving chuckle.

I glanced at my mother; pride softened her features, and she winked at me. When I turned to Gran, her eyes were locked on Aunt Alex—no doubt giving her an earful through the mindlink. Aunt Alex’s shoulders were tight, her jaw clenched.

Then Lord Sylien’s voice cut through my moment of victory. “Whether you choose to speak or not will ultimately be decided by the Council. And rest assured—your grandmother will bring you before the Queen. You will present yourself… one way or another.

The evening pressed on. After dinner, the gathering shifted I back into the living room, where conversation splintered back into smaller clusters. Laughter mingled with hushed tones, the scent of spiced wine lingering in the air. I settled into the armchair nearest the fire. Vince leaned against the mantle, arms crossed, his gaze steady but unreadable.The fire crackled softly, but its warmth barely reached me. Lord Sylien’s words coiled in my mind like smoke that refused to clear. Presented to the Queen A chill slid down my spine.

I wasn’t ready for that encounter. I didn’t want it. And yet… I’d always known it would come. The moment I stepped back into this house, into this realm, the clock had started ticking. Still, part of me was stunned I hadn’t already been dragged to the vampiric kingdom—escorted under guard. The weight of my reality settled on my shoulders.

“Vince?” I turned toward him. The movement seemed to pull him out of whatever deep thought he’d been drowning in.

“Yes, Riv?” he answered, his voice low, steady—too steady.

“Why haven’t I been presented to the Queen yet?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Will I be taken or punished?”

I heard the c***k in my own voice, and I knew he heard it too.

He looked at me for a long, searching moment.

“Asrai,” he said softly, “don’t be worried. And don’t waste a single breath thinking about that rat‑faced Lord Sylien. He’s a pet they like to coddle, nothing more.”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “You’re not in danger. Not like that. Everything has changed since you left, River. We have more interaction with the outside world now—more diplomacy, more oversight. Things aren’t as… isolated as they used to be.”

He paused, eyes flicking toward the others before returning to me.

“You’re not going to be taken anywhere. And you’re not going to be punished. Not while I’m here.”

His words were meant to soothe, but the unease in my chest didn’t fully loosen. Not yet.

We sat in silence for a moment each of us lost in our own thoughts.

“You’ve changed. Not just your words—your presence. Like you’ve seen things… lived through things the rest of us aren’t even able to name.”

I turned to him, the firelight catching the silvery flecks in his eyes. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He held my gaze. “You got out. You saw the world beyond this place. Experienced things we only dream about.”

He paused, and the next word came softer—almost swallowed by the crackle of the fire.

“Freedom.”

His words settled over me like ash. For the first time, I felt the full weight of his perspective. We were all caged birds here—trapped in a loop of tradition, power plays, and inherited roles. No one ever left. No one truly lived. There was so much more of the world beyond enchantsville. More culture, food, people and just plain living

I thought of the humani, who probably longed for safety. How savage they had to become to keep up. I thought of my cousins, growing up with the same faces, the same stories. Vince though he was made to be Beta was never given any other options And I thought of myself—how I had slipped through the bars and tasted a life they could only imagine.

I had left. I had lived. And now I was back, carrying the scent of freedom. I was a walking reality of a option they only wished that could have seen.

“You would have loved it , I said to Vince. College life would have suited you.” Vince’s expression softened, the firelight casting golden shadows across his face. He gave a quiet laugh, more wistful than amused.

“Yeah?” he said, eyes flicking toward the flames.

I nodded, the memory of campus life flickering behind my eyes—chalk dust on old lecture halls, the hum of student protests, the smell of coffee and possibility.

“You would’ve thrived,” I said gently. “You ask the kind of questions professors dream about. And you don’t take easy answers.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Here, questions get you watched. There, they get you polished.”

“You got out, Asrai. That means something.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “It means I have to make it count.”

A sharp knock echoed through the room, slicing cleanly through the hum of conversation. All heads turned toward the door, curiosity flickering in every gaze.

Then, the final guest stepped inside.

He was tall broad shoulders and composed, Warm Carmel skin with rich blond locs. Draped in a blood-red coat that shimmered subtly with burgundy runes stitched like secrets into the fabric. His presence didn’t demand attention—it commanded it. The room fell into a hush of unexpected fear, and something closer to reverence.

My breath caught in my throat.

Prince Kaelen Pavlov had arrived.