Taming the Mad Lycan King

The First Touch

Fenrir POV

I changed quickly into the dark formal coat my mother had laid out herself, collar fastened high, nothing left to chance. By the time I made it down to the entrance, the courtyard had already begun filling with staff arranging themselves into the same two long rows I'd grown up watching form for arrivals like this one. It was a sight I was accustomed to, but this time I felt more anxious than I had in a long while, and that wasn't something a Lycan was meant to show. Maybe it was because this visit was one I hadn't had in years, and it brought back memories that came with it, along with the goosebumps that followed.

Aria was already there, and the moment I saw her, I was blown away. I hadn't expected her to look the way she did. She stood near the base of the steps in deep gold, her hair pulled back the way it had been that first evening, and for a moment I forgot entirely what I'd come down to do. She caught me looking and didn't look away first. I wanted to, but at that moment I had to hold myself as upright as I could.

"You look composed," I said.

"So do you," she replied with her face fixed front. A smile crossed my face. Her presence changed my mood from the man that was at the office a few moments ago.

My mother appeared between us before I could answer, smoothing an invisible crease from my sleeve with one hand while her eyes tracked the road beyond the gate.

"They're nearly here," she said, and then, low enough that only the two of us could hear it, "Hold her hand. Now. Before the gates open."

"Mother…" I whispered, hoping Aria hadn't heard. I wasn't afraid to hold her hand, but the thought of it sent a strange stress through my chest; my heart beat faster, and combined with the nerves already sitting in me from the evening, it was not what I needed in that moment.

"Now, Fenrir." My mother's face was firm.

I reached for Aria's hand without thinking, and she let me take it. The moment our hands closed together, a current moved through my whole arm, then my chest. I kept my face still through sheer will.

I glanced at her briefly. Her breath had caught. Had she felt it too? I didn't know what to make of that.

The gates opened. The first car through was long and black, the crest on its door the twin wolves of the High Council, circling a crown neither of them wore. Behind it came a second car, then a third, then more, a procession longer than courtyards like ours were built to hold.

The lead car stopped precisely at the base of the steps. A guard moved forward to open the door. Maddox. Head of the High Council, a man feared by most Lycans and carrying one of the strongest voices among the council. He was lean, aged, silver running through dark hair swept back without a single strand out of place. I still remembered him from the day I was newly crowned, standing beside my father. Behind him came Luna Wren, his mate. Her eyes moved over the courtyard once, cataloguing, before settling on Aria and me standing together at the top of the steps, hands still joined. I noticed her expression changed the moment she saw Aria.

"Fenrir." Maddox's voice reached the top of the steps before he did. "It has been some time."

"Councilman Maddox." I inclined my head, making sure not to let go of Aria's hand. The feeling that made me feel insane was, strangely, what kept me sane in that moment. I felt Aria's hand tighten again in mine. Was she nervous too?

Maddox's gaze moved from me to her, slow. "And this," he said, "must be your wife."

Aria stepped forward. "We are so happy to host you, Lord Maddox," she said, as Maddox gave her a warm kiss on the hand. Wren, though, was different. I was surprised I knew Maddox was going to bring a wave of issues with him.

Aria POV

The moment our hands joined, something strange filled me like a shock, though I told myself it was only nerves. As the guests were greeted, we moved toward the dining hall, and my eyes kept circling back to Wren. Luna Wren was striking in a way that made it hard not to stare: red hair, deep and rich, swept high off a long neck, and she stood a full six feet even without her heels, taller than most of the guards lining the courtyard. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties, though there was a polish to her that made guessing difficult. When she'd looked at me back in the courtyard, something had surged through me that I couldn't quite name. In my mind, I thought she was assessing me head to toe, though I couldn't fully place what she'd been looking for.

Dinner was nothing like what I was used to. Instead of the long single table, smaller round tables had been arranged throughout the hall. Fenrir and I were seated together at the head table, close enough that our shoulders nearly touched. We were meant to show the image of the perfect couple, and I understood why.

Sable sat across from us, with Maddox and Wren completing the table, and the conversation turned quickly to the new king, Fenrir's cousin, and the changes he'd made since taking the throne. Maddox spoke of trade routes reopened with the western packs, tax reform among the lower ranks, and a new training program for young wolves entering the guard. Sable nodded along with every word, laughing warmly at things that weren't especially funny, agreeing before Maddox had even finished his sentences.

I mostly listened. When my opinion was asked directly, I offered a short, careful answer and let the conversation move past me again. At one point my gaze drifted across the room toward Calla's table, and I found her already watching Fenrir and me. Her expression was unsettling, almost as if she meant to walk over and insert herself between us. I looked away quickly, unwilling to give her any more of my attention. Maybe she was only stressed from the preparations.

Wren, meanwhile, kept sliding her attention my way between sentences, small glances that never quite settled. Every time I caught her, she smiled and returned to her wine. There was something underneath it I couldn't name outright.

The conversation had drifted into a lull, wine glasses being refilled around the table, when Wren set hers down and turned her attention fully on us, that same unhurried smile still in place.

"So," she said, looking between Fenrir and me, "tell me …have you both sealed the marriage yet?"

Everybody went silent that I literally heard my own pulse in my ears. I understood exactly what she meant, my cheeks flushed, and from the way Maddox's eyes lifted briefly from his plate, so did everyone else at the table.

I didn't look at Fenrir. I didn't trust my face not to give away the answer before either of us said a word. But I was shocked by Fenrir's response.