Chapter 1 The Flowers and the Future King

Chapter One: The Flowers and the Future King

The palace gardens smelled like honey and jasmine that morning.

Lyra knelt in the grass, trimming lavender stems with trembling fingers. Dew clung to her lashes, the sun glinting off the delicate blades of her shears. She should've been focused on the overgrown flower beds or the weeds stubbornly pushing through the rose vines but her mind was elsewhere.

Rather, her heart was.

Across the lush lawn, seated beneath the silver columns of the war pavilion, was Crowned Prince Ronan Blackthorn, soon to be Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack and heir to the throne of the Eastern Territory.

He didn't laugh.

He didn't smile.

He didn't look her way.

But still, she stared.

His raven black hair shimmered in the light, tousled just enough to suggest both chaos and command. Maps were sprawled across the table in front of him, the edges fluttering in the breeze. Beta Markus and Gamma Holt stood at his side, discussing rogue movements near the Shadowridge border. But Ronan barely spoke. He just leaned back in his chair, sharp jaw set, golden eyes locked on the horizon like he was already at war.

And even from a distance, he made her breath catch.

Lyra pressed a hand to her chest, cheeks flushing. "He looks tired today."

"Or terrifying," Aria muttered from beside her, yanking a stubborn weed from the base of a white hibiscus bush. "Honestly, do you hear yourself? You've been cutting the same stem for five minutes, Ly."

Lyra blinked, startled, and finally clipped the lavender bloom. "Sorry. I was just... admiring."

Aria snorted, brushing soil off her fingers. "You were drooling."

Lyra gave a bashful smile. "Don't judge me. I'm allowed to admire the future Alpha of the realm."

"'Admire'? You're practically mated to him in your dreams." Aria sat back on her heels, eyes twinkling. "Don't deny it, you've got it bad for the Crowned Prince of Doom."

Lyra giggled, brushing her fingers over the petals she'd clipped. "It's not a secret. Everyone knows. I think even the palace walls know."

"Well, at least you're honest about your insanity."

"I'm not insane," Lyra whispered, stealing another glance his way. "He's just... he's everything. Power, strength, loyalty. He's the kind of Alpha our kind writes legends about."

Aria groaned dramatically. "Lyra Hale, you are the only girl I know who can fall head over heels for a man who hasn't spoken a full sentence to you all your life."

"He spoke to me once. He said, 'Move.'"

"He grunted, and you almost fainted."

"I was in his way!" Lyra laughed, covering her face. "Oh moon goddess, I'm hopeless."

"You are truly hopeless. Even the moon goddess is tired of your stupid crush." Aria teased. "But seriously, what do you even like about him? He barely even blinks, let alone flirts."

Lyra's smile turned wistful. "It's not about flirting. It's the way he carries the entire world on his shoulders and never buckles. It's how he keeps our borders safe, how he never backs down from a fight. He's strong, yes but it's more than that. It's like... like he was born for this."

Aria tilted her head. "You ever think he was born to destroy things, not lead them?"

Lyra glanced at her. "Maybe. But sometimes destruction clears the path for something better."

"Now you sound like a priestess."

"Call me assistant moon goddess."

Aria rolled her eyes but smiled, reaching over to tug a leaf from Lyra's hair. "You're lucky I love you enough to not throw this at your face."

Lyra giggled again, her heart light, her gaze drawn once more to the far side of the garden. She felt foolish. Delusional, even. But it didn't matter.

She had watched him from afar since she was fifteen. She had seen him bloody from battle and bathed in moonlight, had watched how the wolves bowed to him, even the elders. His presence filled every space he entered. He was fear and power and glory wrapped in one brutal package.

And he would be King Alpha soon.

"Do you think he'll ever notice me?" she asked quietly.

Aria paused, then softened. "You're kind. Sweet. And loyal to a fault. One day someone's going to see that and fall hard."

"I want it to be him," Lyra whispered. "Even if it hurts."

Before Aria could respond, a sudden hush fell over the garden.

The air shifted, warmer, denser. A primal hum brushed Lyra's skin. She froze.

Aria followed her gaze, then stiffened. "Oh. Goddess."

Ronan was walking toward them.

Slow, unhurried steps across the stone path. His gaze was sharp and molten, fixed on Lyra like a spear.

Lyra's breath hitched. Her entire body went still. Her heart slammed against her ribs, not from fear... but from something far more dangerous.

Hope.

"Don't faint," Aria whispered, grabbing her arm. "If you do something stupid, I'll kill you."

"I'm trying not to," Lyra murmured.

The closer he came, the smaller the garden felt. Her hands trembled. Her cheeks burned. Her soul stretched toward him like a flower chasing sunlight.

And when he finally stopped in front of them, just a few paces away, his voice low and smooth rolled over her like thunder.

"Lyra Hale," he said.

She forgot how to breathe.