Chapter 92

Theodore

I shook his hand and nodded. Then, he shooed us off, and I followed Violet through the garden, stopping now and then as she made introductions. Each new face came with a title, a history, and a handshake or polite nod. It was all a little overwhelming—not because it was difficult to keep up, but because I’d spent so much of my life imagining that noble events like these would be a minefield of rigid etiquette and judgmental stares. I'd hated even the idea of being caught up in this nonsense, but it was nothing like I'd feared.

Instead, it was… calm. Pleasant, even.

The nobles we met were polite, friendly even, with easy smiles and genuine interest in conversation. Sure, there was an air of formality, but it wasn’t suffocating. There was laughter—real laughter—and while the dress code made everyone look pristine, the mood was far from stuffy.

It was a far cry from what I’d expected, given the glowing suits, whispering that answered us as we arrived, and the underlying power plays that always seemed to thread through werewolf society. I knew that my father had never done himself any favors with the nobles, but me being here felt like it had more poliltical significance than me simply coming with Violet as her Consort.

We walked away from another conversation, trailing beside the lovely garden scape and the blooms that seemed to wink with light.

“You look surprised,” Violet said softly as we stopped a few feet away from a small cluster of nobles discussing trade routes.

“I’m just… adjusting,” I admitted, keeping my tone low. “I expected this to be more—” I paused, searching for the right word.

“Intimidating?” she supplied with a knowing smile.

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

She chuckled, reaching out to lightly squeeze my arm. “Not every noble event is a battlefield, Theodore. These people might hold power, but most of them are just trying to live their lives like anyone else. You’ll see. We're not all that scary.”

I brought her hand to my lips to kiss. "I'm starting to believe that."

She beamed at me and lifted up to kiss me gently.

"What was that for?"

"Excelling."

I smiled and we headed toward the group discussing trade routes. We moved through the crowd with more grace and less tension than I could have ever anticipated. She was right—the more I spoke with people, the more I realized they weren’t all that different from the rest of the population. Public opinion of the noble class had shifted during the time of my father in that most only saw them on television, dressed well and seemingly doing something frivolous like getting on a yacht. Yet, hearing them talk, it seemed like all of that had really be curated to alienate them.

The trade routes were for medicine, two alpha collaborating on how best to get medicine to the border lands, someone's luna chiming in to suggest an in-kind trade for medicine by air drop rather than truck. They… cared way more than Owen had ever seemed to care about the plight of his constituents. It set something in me at ease, healed some wound I hadn't ever acknowledged.

It made me think of my mother.

You never have to be what others want you to be… Trust your own compass.

Eventually, Violet left me to speak with a group of nobles who specialized in trade and infrastructure. I watched her go, her presence commanding attention even as she moved with a grace that seemed effortless.

“Alpha Theodore, isn’t it?”

I turned to see a middle-aged man with weathered hands and a warm smile. His suit was well-made but simple, his posture relaxed.

“Alpha Westbrook,” Violet said, introducing him before stepping away. “His pack specializes in agriculture. I’m sure you’ll have a lot to discuss.”

I nodded and extended my hand. “A pleasure.”

“Likewise,” he said, his grip firm. “I understand Midnight’s been looking to expand it's abilities, right? You entered an alliance with Darkforest. It's not an acquisition, right?"

I shook my head. "No, but maybe. Violet is convinced that I've essentially been acquired as another brother."

He laughed. "You must have made quite the impression."

"Violet," I said, glancing over her. "She's… been quite the force to reckon with."

He nodded. "Takes after her mother in that regard. Didn't think her old man would ever find a mate, never thought he'd be the way he was with her either." He threw his head back. "Knocked him flat on his ass and he was hooked. Had that look you have your face barely an hour after meeting her."

I laughed. "Violet said you're in agriculture. How are things? With the storm systems and all."

For the next several minutes, we talked about crop rotations, irrigation systems, and the challenges of balancing agricultural growth with environmental preservation in the middle of what looked like oncoming natural disasters. It wasn’t my area of expertise, but Alpha Westbrook was easy to talk to, and I found myself actually enjoying the conversation.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Violet across the garden, speaking animatedly with a woman who I guessed was the luna of a pack she knew. Whatever they were discussing seemed important—her hands moved as she spoke, emphasizing her points, and the other woman nodded thoughtfully. Another woman joined. A man. Before long the conversation had expanded to a circle. I wondered what they were talking about, but the magic humming in the air made it hard to focus on anything else.

I was mid-conversation with Alpha Westbrook about the intricacies of rotating crops to maintain soil health when it happened. Something changed. Her posture stiffened, her head tilting slightly as if she’d heard something no one else had. I couldn’t feel it—not yet—but I could see it. A subtle shift in her demeanor. The way her fingers curled slightly against her gown. I felt her unease.

"I'm sorry, Alpha Westbrook. It seems like there's something…"

He clapped my shoulder. "I don't get in between an alpha and their mate."

I excused myself from the conversation, my focus narrowing on her as she answered a question from one of the nobles in her circle.

“How are things going with getting your affairs in order?” one of them asked, their tone casual. “Have you made arrangements to be seen? Started looking through your relatives for an heir?"

They were talking about Lucas and her situation with their bond. A wave of irritation flickered across Violet’s face, but she masked it quickly. I stepped closer, close enough to catch the tightness in her jaw as she answered.

“I appreciate your concern,” she said, her voice smooth but edged with a sharpness that didn't seem directed at the person asking, so much as at the situation. “Rest assured, I’m handling it, but I hold that my lawyers know what they're doing.”

"Violet, are you--"

The spike of irritation turned to a full on lightning strike. An awareness of something being wrong, danger, wrongness hit him and seemed to ripple through the gathering, feeding the tension in my shoulders.

Then, there was a commotion coming from the walking path that seemed to wind around from the front of the Estate. I recognized the rhythm of the heavy boots of the wolves assigned to guard Owen, but I could not fathom why he would be here.

The sound drew everyone's attention. I turned, instinctively moving to stand between Violet and Owen as murmurs rippled through the crowd. It wasn't until the sounds of disgust started that I grew furious.

Trailing behind Owen and his wife was Lucas with Nora by his side. They were dressed to match the occasion, but their expressions told another story. Lucas looked furious, his gaze sweeping over the garden like he was searching for someone—like he was searching for Violet. Nora clung to his arm, her own expression a mix of unease and entitlement. She tugged on his arm, clearly trying to get his attention, but I could tell the moment he saw me and Violet. He grit his teeth, glaring at me.

The disgust on several faces told me what I already knew: none of them were invited.

I looked at Violet. Her eyes were narrowed and calculating. I could feel her irritation, anger, and something else—something primal that stirred between us through our bond.

I took her hand. Lucas' gaze dropped to our intertwined hands. His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing as he squared his shoulders. He didn't come toward us, but Owen started to speak, his voice ringing out over the gathering as he swept his gaze across it.

"It's quite rude to not even extend an invitation to your king," Owen said, his eyes drifting toward me.

He set his jaw, his eyes narrowed at me before tearing away. "Alpha Dorian Vainthott, I thought nobles were supposed to be example of manners."