Connection - Golden Lycans Sequel 3/3 [Complete]

Cinderella

***Ophelia***

Entering through the back entrance of the huge and highly imposing property, the nerves begin to take hold.

I feel like Cinderella.

Entirely out of place.

This place is seriously grand.

Not quite as grand as where I had just come here from, but it was pretty close. Marble floor...marble pillars...huge gilded paintings and chandeliers; this was definitely the residence of someone incredibly wealthy and important.

There are a fair number of very immaculately dressed people here, entirely faceless people, all hidden behind their respective masks. There is a comfort in this, but I also feel like I can't escape them, particularly as many now turn their heads to observe us entering this grand foyer.

I know this is because of my uncle. Imposing at the best of times at a staggering six-foot-eight, he looks moreso in his well-fitted black dinner suit, topped with a simple, gold mask.

He should have just worn one of his crowns, as there was no hiding who he and his stunning queen are, tonight. I suppose many people here know who others are, in spite of the masks, but I at least feel my identity is largely protected, right now.

"JAMES!" I shortly hear a rather loud, accented voice bellow from across the foyer.

I brace myself as people part the way for someone in a mask that looks straight out of Mardi Gras, enthusiastically approaching my uncle and hugging him immediately. My uncle embraces him back, before smiling at him warmly.

"Augustus! How are you? We are long overdue for that rematch," James says to the man, who is evidently the host of this ball. Augustus Katz, one of the small number of people here tonight who knew my true face.

"In zuch a hurry to be beaten again, James?" He says teasingly, now turning to my aunt and kissing her on the back of her hand, "a pleasure to zee you, Zerena…und congratulations."

He opens his mouth to speak as his eyes now fall on me. His expression demonstrates that he knows who I am, but he is suddenly distracted by something above us.

"Ahh vot perfect timing….James, Zerena," he says, his eyes fixed on a moving target somewhere above and behind us, "you av met both Amadeus and Atticus before, but...tonight it eez my great pleasure to introduce you to zumone else…my natural-born son, who has finally joined uz zis year," he says so proudly, gesturing toward two people who have now just left the staircase.

I had no idea Augustus Katz had a natural-born son, and it was definitely not mentioned at all during the lecture at Vale.

Of the two men who have just descended the stairs, I recognise the confident swagger of the more muscular one, who I assume is Atticus Katz, thanks to his long, glossy, tousled black hair. Any man who looked that good in a tailored suit would walk with the same confident swagger, I am sure.

With him, is a marginally taller, similarly broad-shouldered, but leaner-looking young man, also with jet-black hair. He is walking rather stiffly, as if he isn't used to wearing a suit, and indeed, perhaps like me, he wasn't used to being at an event like this.

A natural-born could only be as old as seventeen at this point, so he likely hasn't been to an event like this.

He is wearing a rather intriguing, dark red suit jacket which has a subtle, almost damask-looking texture to it. Under it is a crisp white shirt, black waistcoat and black tailored trousers. His mask is probably the most striking I have seen so far. It is ivory-coloured, with shimmery areas that remind me of Mother of Pearl. But it is the two ram horns that come out of either side of his eyes, that are the most theatrical part of it. It is hiding a great deal of his face, which I suppose is the point, and all I can see is a fairly angular jaw and a set of shapely lips.

Generally...Augustus' youngest son looks pretty damn good, and I briefly wonder what Maddy would think of him, having made many comments about how 'sexy and dangerous' a vampire would be, and how she'd love to get cozy with one.

Atticus and his younger brother stop next to Augustus, and they all exchange a few strange expressions. Augustus puts his hand fondly onto the shoulder of the younger son, looking at each of us in turn.

"Zis is my son—”, Augustus begins to say, his eyes going to me fiercely, before the young man steps forward and offers his hand out toward my uncle.

"—Aurelius Katz, it is an honour to meet you, your highness," the younger son says, almost sounding as if he has a lisp.

He then firmly shakes the hand of my bewildered aunt, before he turns his startlingly red eyes on to me, and I hear my uncle clear his throat.

"Augustus, similarly, I am very proud to introduce to you, my niece, Ophelia Landry," he says, nodding kindly towards me as I remember my manners. I step forward and perform my best curtsy to Augustus, as Pruella had shown me how to do only yesterday. He smiles at me, and instead offers me his hand. I take it, and he shakes it firmly, before pulling me a little toward him.

"Yes...Meese Landry, it iz lovely to formally meet you…again, my dear," he says kindly.

"You have already met?" my uncle asks in surprise. Augustus laughs merrily and nods as he releases my hand.

"Atticus und I vent to your zeester in-law's medical institute, Vale, in October. Atticus selected young Ophelia here to demonstrate his persuasive skill. Except...she did not zuccumb to his…nor even my persuasion. Unusual, as many vud haf done. But zen, I realized vhy zat vos, ven I caught her undeniably unique zent. Vunce closer und avay from her peers..." he confirms, visibly taking a deep breath in, a look of enjoyment on his face, “ohhh, how delectable you smell, my dear. But do not vear, you are very safe in zis place. Ve may stare, but no vun vill touch you.”

He then gestures towards his son Aurelius, giving him a pointed look. The young man narrows his eyes at his father briefly, before he takes a deep breath himself, holding a hand out towards me. I look up into his red eyes and take his hand, noticing the widening of his eyes as I do so.

I feel a little...unusual as I stare back at him, but I am unsure why.

"Welcome to our home...Ophelia," he says quietly, albeit a little stiffly, shaking and then releasing my hand as quickly as possible. I can see his fangs as his mouth moves, and I cannot help but feel so intrigued by them. He then swiftly turns and walks away hastily, Atticus immediately following him. It is almost like he cannot wait to get away from me...

Augustus shrugs, likely hoping we haven't just found that behaviour a little bizarre, looking back at us with a big smile.

"I 'ope you have a vunderful evening. I shall zee you at dinner, und ve VILL schedule zat rematch, James," Augustus says, nodding courteously towards us in turn before he approaches someone else.

"Well, that was very interesting," my aunt says, lifting two champagne flutes off a server and handing one to me. Only Lycans could drink alcohol while pregnant, and copious amounts of it at that.

"I had no idea Augustus had a natural-born son," I say to my aunt, my eyes looking around the foyer, drinking in the fine details. This stately home was very impressive.

"He has kept him a secret for a long time," James says casually.

"What? You knew and you did not tell me?" Serena says, looking rather annoyed at her husband.

"Because he asked me not to, Serena. In my position, I need to be trustworthy. I keep a lot of secrets," James replies simply.

"But, why?" I ask. He laughs and makes an agreeing gesture.

"Why indeed. Not a question he has ever answered, when I have asked. Maybe Aurelius worried he would not live up to the expectations people might have, being the son of the first vampire? Maybe he wanted a subtle existence? Who knows," James postulates with a clearing of his throat.

"Goddess, well I know how that feels," I sigh, sipping my champagne.

James then gestures with his head for us to go down a large, opulent corridor lined with artwork. The sounds of an orchestral band get louder and louder, until we enter a huge ballroom, decorated so richly that my mouth actually falls open.

"Wow! This looks insane!" I exclaim, having seen nothing like this before, except perhaps in magazines. The number of flowers hanging from the ceiling is both beautiful and rather awe-inspiring. The soft lighting from the chandeliers gives a very ethereal quality to the whole room, and I feel like I have stepped into another world entirely.

Arguably, I have.

This wasn't the world I was a part of, despite my familial links.

My uncle pulls my aunt towards him to kiss her head briefly.

"It is time we all do the rounds."

...

***Ares***

I slam the door shut behind us, my breathing is sharp. I tear the mask from my face and throw it onto a nearby chair before turning to Atticus.

“It’s her,” I say, pacing, adrenaline surging through me. My mind won’t slow down, “Atticus—it’s Lia. My flatmate. My friend...the woman I...” I cut myself off, eyes locking on him, fury suddenly cutting through the confusion, “She’s the daughter of Austin and Ella Landry. She’s not human...she’s a hybrid!”

A slow smirk tugs at the corners of Atticus's mouth. He’s enjoying this.

“You knew along!” I breathe, stepping towards him.

“Did I know,” he begins, tone maddeningly amused, “that the wide-eyed, innocent-looking blonde sitting beside you in that lecture hall was the Lycan-Fae hybrid heir to the Golden Alpha? No. Not at first. But of course, I was going to single out the girl you were sat next to.”

He shrugs, like it’s all a game. I ball my fists.

“But it was when I tried—and failed—to persuade her,” he continues, his grin sharpening, "that I realised she was different. Her blood…up close, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. Plus that threatening growl from Austin Landry at the side of the room gave things away nicely.”

I rake my hands through my hair, heart still hammering.

“Oh, she smells incredible, doesn’t she? Honestly, I think she smells better tonight than she did at Vale. It’s almost…concentrated. Like something’s shifted in her,” He smiles with a tilt of his head, then rests both hands lightly on my shoulders, "control, however, is something I have, Ares.”

He lets that sit for a moment.

"But, I digress. Yes, I knew. I doubt Ella Landry and her husband would have looked that pissed off had it been any other student aside from their daughter. Their heir. When I mentioned it after, father already knew you were being roomed with her, right from the moment you started at Vale. He had a feeling you might be tempted like this, but he did hope, however, that you would not smell her the same way the rest of us do, being natural-born. I'm sure she will smell absolutely divine to our vampire guests this evening. I wonder if her royal aunt and uncle have considered this?"

Atticus looks thoughtful while I let out a sound of irritation, running my fingers through my hair once more, wondering what to do.

Who was Lia more at risk from this evening?

No wonder father had told me to leave her alone.

Her father was the world-renowned Golden Alpha.

The indestructible Lycan, immune to elemental magic, fur like titanium.

Father was afraid I'd hurt someone whose father could actually tear him to shreds...

"I cannot go back down...Atticus, just standing there it was..." I exclaim, but now also becoming worried about others smelling her the same way. I want to hide from her, but I fiercely want to protect her. Is she TRULY safe here this evening?”

"Of course she is. Father would never allow anyone to harm the niece of the human king. FOCUS, Ares. You can do this. Calm yourself. Think of this is...as your chance," Atticus says, nodding as if in strong agreement with himself.

"My chance?" I ask, bewildered.

"Yes! There was no recognition there in her face, only an intrigue one has with any new encounter," Atticus says, releasing my arms, "tonight, simply be yourself. She knows Aurelius is a vampire. Show her the real you. Perhaps if you embraced what you are more, you may learn to control yourself better? Those virginal fangs aren't going anywhere, Ares. It's high time you learned to live with them."

"They won't go back in, not with her around," I mutter. My brain is trying to process every moment I've ever been around her in the background...all this time.

Lia was Lycan and also Fae, and I had no idea.

"Why does her blood call to me? Her mother's mother is Fae and hers doesn't? Is it because she is hybrid?" I ask Atticus. He rolls his eyes at me.

"How the bloody hell would I know? Fae aren't a dime a dozen anymore, and it's been many hundreds of years since they were around. To us, Ella Landry's blood smells entirely on another level compared to humans and anyone else for that matter. So, what does that tell you?" Atticus replies. He pats me a little roughly on the side of my face before he leaves the room, leaving me there to consider his words.

In reality it told me nothing.

I drop into one of the chairs, feeling several ways at once.

My father had known exactly who Lia was all this time.

Apparently, her own mother had put me into the same flat as her daughter. Her husband's heir. She probably thought that, as a natural-born, I was no danger to her daughter. She had listened to me talk about her several times now, particularly in the library when I was inquiring about her own daughter's aura.

I feel acutely embarrassed, now, when I think of our interaction. She knew what was transpiring between us, and she even encouraged me to make a 'meaningful connection'.

Did that mean that she did trust me with Lia?

I put my face in my hands, feeling more embarrassed about many things that my mind is now touching on, particularly when I'd apparently asked her about herself, out on the balcony one time.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I mutter to myself, feeling thoroughly daft about so many interactions we had together. I had no idea why she had been pretending to be human, but then, so had I.

However...now that I think of it, she had spent an entire evening during a full moon, sat with me watching TV...why had she never gone out to shift, being Lycan?

We had learned that it was an intense need that they had. To not shift, caused them to get very sick.

I had so many questions.

But Atticus was right.

I needed to focus.

The most pressing question was now this: how to proceed from here?

Do I stay hidden upstairs...or do I do what Atticus suggested? Do I hope I can control myself and allow Lia to see the real me, for the first time?

"Ophelia," I correct myself, saying her real name for the first time with a smile. Ophelia was a beautiful name, and fit her so much more than Lia did.

I make a decision, standing up and sticking the mask back onto my face.

It was time to go meet her all over again.

Although, arguably, truly the first time.

...

***Ophelia***

I stare down at the pile of bowls and plates in front of me, on top of which is a name place card with my name on it.

"I do not know what happens at an event such as this," I say to Serena, and she smiles at me knowingly.

"Do not fret, it is easy. The bowl on the top is for the soup starter, the plate under is your bread plate, and the one under that is for when parts of your main meal are dished out at the table. There is no dessert spoon, only a dessert fork, so you can guess what dessert might end up being," she explains. I bite my lip and smile at her.

"For all the things Dad has told us about you...I mean...I have only known you like this, but...did you really use to climb trees and gut your own fish?" I ask with a short laugh. She laughs heartily, causing a few people to stare.

"Oh, Lia. Yes. I am still her, and I still do all those things when I can. But I have needed to adapt. Trust me, I spent many an official dinner before we were married, wondering what was in front of me, how to act, what to say," she says, before she leans towards me, her eyes drifting to the opposite side of the round table, where Augustus Katz is now sitting.

Evidently, he considered my aunt and uncle to be the most valued people to sit with.

"Katz is from...well, virtually every generation in time. He is very traditional, and he pays solid attention to social etiquette. He will encourage one of his sons to ask you to dance, as a newcomer; especially as the niece to another King. He values his friendship with James very much. He would consider it a demonstration of friendship to have one of his sons welcome you to their home in that way," my aunt says quietly. The idea of dancing with a thousand-year-old vampire sounds a little traumatising. I'd much prefer to dance with my uncle, again.

"My roommate Maddy would be so jealous if she knew I had danced in a ballroom with Atticus Katz," I laugh, nervously.

"Oh, he is a fine dancer," she replies with a giggle, "and very respectful. I have danced with him several times."

I watch Atticus Katz take a seat two seats away from me and actually...the idea of that isn't too horrendous. He came across as extremely charming, and I couldn't deny that the man was an absolute beefcake. I sneak a look at the place card next to me, but before I can read the name, Atticus picks it up and places it next to his.

"Aurelius will hopefully be down shortly," he says to me with a charming smile, "do not worry, young Ophelia, he won't bite."

Wow. He must think that joke is hilarious.

I smile awkwardly and hug my arms into myself, feeling like I could've just stayed in my expansive guest bedroom at the palace with a good book.

I look up from the table, into the main part of the ballroom, my eyes immediately looking straight into the face of Augustus' secret son as he walks through the room.

Surely, he couldn't be any older than sixteen or seventeen, judging by the time the cure was released, and an average gestation period? He seemed older, though.

His red eyes dart to the singular empty spot on the table; which is right next to me. He looks at me once again, and I see him visibly swallow hard in discomfort...is sitting next to me really that bad? A thought then strikes me: Was it my blood? But no...he's natural-born...

I look down at my empty bowl, feeling his presence as he takes a seat next to me, and I look up toward my uncle. He furrows his brow a little, and I think he is listening to see if I 'say' something.

[...I'm fine...but, this sort of thing really isn't me...]

I say in my head, knowing he can hear me. He smiles at me kindly and nods once to let me know he has understood. He leans over to my aunt and says something only she can hear.

Merely a few seconds later, Augustus Katz is rapping a spoon on a glass, chiming it loudly across the sea of people. Within a few more seconds, everyone falls silent.

…

***Ares***

"Thank you so much, father," I mutter sarcastically under my breath as I look at the seating chart.

I probably should have looked at it way earlier than now, as I could have done something about it.

But of course...the fates had aligned; I was seated next to 'James Montague's Niece'.

My father liked King James a little too much, sometimes.

I brace myself as I enter the ballroom, the seemingly endless scent of hers almost dragging me forwards through the room, past an actual tree placed in the centre of the room, covered in faerie lights. I had no idea my father and his 'team' were this good at transforming this space. It is really quite impressive.

I soon see her, so obvious to me out of the other two hundred people.

Because I can feel her, now, more than ever.

Everything about her just calls to me, and I sorely want to answer.

She feels uncomfortable and anxious...entirely out of place.

...at least that made two of us.

As I near the table she looks up, her intense, sea-green eyes finding mine. A somewhat horrifying thought hits me as I approach the table, causing me to swallow hard; she is Fae.

She is surely going to recognise me?

She is going to realise.

This mask is doing a good job at masking my facial features, but it cannot hide my aura...and while I had only ever seen hers, I could imagine they were like a fingerprint. Her mother could have taught her aura reading from a young age...

She draws her arms around herself, hugging her torso.

Her feeling of discomfort is increasing, and I know it is because I am now drawing the chair out. My instincts want me to do something else entirely, as my eyes fall onto her uncovered neck. The memory of us on the balcony together, only a few weeks ago, haunts me a little as I remember the feeling of her blood rushing through her neck right under my lips...

I drop into the seat and I adjust it so that I am sitting slightly away from her, a move that Atticus utters a short laugh at me for.

My own heart is racing, the almost physical sensation of wanting to sink my fangs into her neck is at an all-time peak.

I try some meditative breathing, trying my best to focus myself.

Atticus is enjoying this, that is for sure, smirking at me as I look around the table.

I see king James exchange a sympathetic look with Ophelia, and then a quick nod. I knew he had some evolved traits that only him and just two other humans on earth seemed to have, one of them being mind reading.

Having learned the mechanics of Lycan mating and the intricate chemistry involved, I greatly desired to know more about how being bonded to a Lycan encouraged evolved genetics in the humans who were.

My brief mental detour has calmed me a little, but I am now hyper-aware of the fact that Lia...Ophelia...is sitting next to me. Looking like a princess from one of Madeleine's favourite Disney movies, she is sitting there, likely unaware of just how beautiful she looks.

The question on my mind right now is; how on earth do I break the ice with Ophelia?

...

***Ophelia***

"...well that is the predicament of the young people these days, wouldn't you agree, Ophelia?" I hear Katz's other son, Amadeus, say across the table as I put down my soup spoon.

I stare back at him for a moment as I try to remember what it was that they were all talking about. Something about increasing rates....ah, yes. Mortgages, of all things.

How dull.

"Uh...honestly...I come from a position of extreme privilege, so I could not give a well-informed answer about that. The predicaments I face as a young person, are the most mundane and banal compared to many," I reply truthfully. Amadeus smirks at me before he sips some champagne.

"That is a reasonable viewpoint. But...as the future leader of one of the largest packs in the world, you must know the plight of those your age? A mortgage is a pipe dream until you are pushing at least forty years of age," he pushes.

"Well...that is not how a pack works. All residences are owned by the pack, and all pack members live in those residences. If we need more...we simply build more. In most packs, a small percentage of each pack member's wages goes into the pack, in exchange for services from those within it. Building, decorating, baking, even physiotherapy...a wide variety of things. Ours runs differently, only because we just…can. The pack funds itself rather than its members, and that is mostly thanks to Exton College but also because of my mother," I explain, my eyes drawn in the last few seconds to the napkin that the young man next to me has folded into what is unmistakably, an origami wolf.

He places it nearer to me and I cannot help but smile at it, as it looks rather detailed.

"Interesting. Packs, yours in particular, have always sounded like the very definition of communism," Amadeus suggests while I pick up the origami wolf and look at it closely.

I hear Serena scoff at his comment, and I utter a short laugh myself, shaking my head as I turn my attention back to him.

"Communism, by very simple definition, is a class-less society. Lycans have a clear hierarchy fundamentally built into our DNA. Just because all needs are equally met, it doesn't equate to communism. Not everything can fit into a neat little box," I reply calmly, wondering how someone who had been alive for thousands of years, didn't understand the basics of a Lycan pack structure.

"Very interesting," he says, downing his third glass of wine, "tell me, Ophelia…what is your wolf called? I heard that the names of the noble alpha wolves often mean something in particular?”

I look back at him, wondering how to avoid answering this question, now that everyone is staring at me.

"I feel, that if you had a wolf, Amadeus, they would be called Aergia, after the god of procrastination and laziness," Aurelius says from beside me.

Atticus and Augustus start laughing at this, much to the annoyance of Amadeus. Obviously, an inside joke, but thankfully it deflects the question being aimed at me, as the starter is placed down in front of me.

Everyone immediately starts tucking into it, but I am a little perplexed as to what it is.

"This, is deviled rhea egg with Beluga caviar, capers and a side of smoked king salmon," I hear Aurelius explain next to me. I turn to look at him with an unsure expression on my face. I had never eaten caviar before.

"Uhh..." I say, looking down at the caviar.

"You have not eaten this before?" He asks kindly. I shake my head.

"Caviar is not chewed; it is tasted. Scoop it up with the little spoon, and then place it directly onto your tongue with the spoon down on top. Take a subtle breath in through your mouth to allow the aroma to reach your nasopharynx; you need to taste and smell it at the same time for the full effect," he explains, pointing towards a small spoon.

"The nasopharynx, huh?" I repeat back, finding it intriguing that he knows that term.

He smiles back at me for a brief moment, and his smile feels disarmingly familiar. It relaxes me considerably and I smile back.

"You do not eat food like this, normally?" He asks with a lopsided smile, leaning towards me a little.

"No, I do not!" I laugh.

"But, you are the niece of a king...how...is that?" He queries. I shrug a little.

"To everyone else here, he is the king of this country and many others. But, to me, he is just my uncle. He helps my dad cook whenever he comes for dinner, he has tried to reach me guitar, but I suck at it. He taught me the Waltz only last night, just because I was coming here tonight," I say with a warm smile, as I look over at my uncle.

"So...you can dance?" Aurelius asks. I laugh and shake my head.

"I...am not dancing," I say awkwardly, "I lack rhythm. Hence failing miserably at the guitar."

"Perhaps I should warn you...my father is rather traditional. He will expect one of us to ask you to dance. It is the polite thing to do when the king brings his niece and introduces her for the first time," he explains. I laugh and raise my eyebrows in slight annoyance.

"Uh, well, Ball or not, I do believe I have some sort of choice in the matter," I try to say as jovially as possible, yet still managing to sound irritated.

Thankfully, he laughs lightly and leans a fair amount closer, unexpectedly.

He smells very good.

"Ask. I never said you had to accept," he clarifies, "but, I would very much hope that you would, if I were to ask..."