Chapter 3 The Feast

ARIA'S POV

The hall was filled with the warm, inviting aroma of roasted venison and spiced wine, mingling with the lively scent of perfumes in the air. Long oak tables boasted silver trays piled high with delicious food, candles casting a gentle golden glow, and pitchers of mead making their rounds from hand to hand.

The lively chatter of my friends created a joyful atmosphere...filled with laughter, friendly boasts, spirited debates, and the cheerful clatter of chairs and goblets.

It should have felt warm and celebratory...a lovely feast bringing the pack together after a long week of hunts and border patrols. But I found myself sitting at the very end of the last table, on a stool so far from the light that it felt like I'd slipped into shadow.

That was where I belonged.

I gently picked at a crust of bread, barely noticing the glances that swept over me-some filled with mockery, some with pity, and most simply indifferent. Omegas always found themselves sitting in the back, close enough to offer help but far enough to go unnoticed.

"Aria."

I could feel my wolf's voice whispering inside my chest. She had been pretty quiet most of the day, just a gentle hum beneath my skin, but now she was pressing against me, feeling restless and eager.

What? I answered silently.

Her tone was soft, but firm. Hold your head higher. They may not see you, but I do.

My throat tightened as her words hit home. She often said things like that, especially when I needed a little reassurance. I did my best to stay strong. I squared my shoulders, but I kept my eyes lowered, pretending to be interested in the bread, trying to hold it together.

Across the hall, laughter echoed loudly as warriors cheerfully raised their cups. Damon's beta sat comfortably near the center, surrounded by friends, with his arm relaxed around a female warrior. His voice was clear, confident, and lively.

He hadn't looked my way at all tonight, not even once.

A sharp ache pressed in my chest. My wolf stirred again, an uneasy ripple.

Why do you torture yourself looking at him?

Because I can't stop, I admitted.

This had been the case for weeks now. Since I turned eighteen, and ever since my wolf softly revealed what I had long suspected...that he was mine.

Damon. The Beta of Silvermoon. He was strong, ambitious, and could be cruel when it suited him. And I was the omega, the girl who often felt overlooked and forgotten at the very bottom.

I gently bit my lip, feeling the lingering sting of rejection, recalling the night he'd snapped that he didn't want an omega mate.

That he deserved someone better. I didn't argue that night. How could I? He was right.

Still, that connection was always there. My wolf sensed it all the time, like an invisible thread gently pulling tighter whenever he stepped into the room.

I pushed the bread aside, feeling no hunger anymore. My mind wandered, as it often did, to my parents.

Mother's laugh, warm and bright as sunlight flowing into our cosy cottage, instantly lifts the spirit. Father's voice, gentle yet firm, guides me on how to skin rabbits and listen carefully for rogues in the brush.

Though they were taken by rogues years ago, their blood left a lasting mark, staining the earth before my eyes. I still see it sometimes in my sleep, a haunting memory that lingers.

The pack hadn't cared. No one had comforted me. I'd been left alone in a cold den, the whispers of "orphan omega" echoing around me until they gradually faded away. Eventually, I became invisible, unnoticed by everyone.

My wolf pressed harder against me. You're not invisible. Not to me. Not to the Moon.

Her words steadied me, a fragile rope across a deep chasm.

But the rope frayed when my gaze lifted...only for a heartbeat...and landed on him.

Damon.

He relaxed in his chair, the warm glow of the fire highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, while his dark hair gently fell over his forehead. His smile was sly and slightly dangerous, adding a hint of mystery.

The warriors nearby burst into cheerful laughter at some joke, but all I could hear was the steady beat of my own pulse, echoing in my ears.

My wolf froze inside me. Aria.

I know. My breath caught. Something shifted.

At first, it was a gentle change, like the air itself seemed to grow heavier, and the hall almost leaned closer toward him. Suddenly, everything shifted...sharp and intense...a snap, like a tether pulling tightly between us.

Mate.

I'd experienced it before, but never with such intensity. A wolf's cry echoed within me, not shouted out loud but resonating deep inside, vibrating through my bones with a powerful presence.

He remained still.

It was just a quick moment, but Damon turned his head softly, his eyes sweeping across the hall with a piercing intensity.

I really should have looked away, instinctively dropping my gaze, trying to hide or stay unnoticed. Yet, I simply couldn't look away.

Our eyes locked.

His eyes were not the warm amber of a friendly packmate. They were storm-dark, molten, flickering with something unreadable.

The noise of the hall faded away...the laughter, the clatter, everything else faded beneath the thunder in my chest.

Time stopped.

His nostrils flared as if he could smell me from across the room, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze burning into my skin.

My wolf whimpered softly and pressed closer, lingering between feelings of fear and longing.

He feels it too, she whispered.

I didn't dare breathe.

Damon blinked slowly, as if he was suddenly aware of something he couldn't quite put into words. His jaw clenched, and he seemed ready to stand up and go after what destiny had in store for him. My heart fluttered with a mix of hope and hesitation.

Then the spell broke, and a warrior gently tapped his back, inviting him into another story and another laugh. He hesitated for a moment before turning away, feeling a mix of emotions.

The connection between us still burned brightly, raw and unyielding. I sat there, frozen and feeling my hands tremble beneath the table. My wolf whimpered once more, but this time it was low and filled with a dangerous edge.

He cannot run from it forever, she said. Neither can you.

I took a deep breath, feeling it slow and tremble. The celebration around me continued, unaware of the moment that had just changed everything for me. But I knew deep down.

Everything had changed.