POV - Elena
The air shimmered with gold.
That was the first thing I noticed when we stepped into the ballroom — the golden chandeliers, the golden light, the golden gazes that turned as one toward us.
I felt it immediately: the hush, the subtle shift in the room's pulse.
Every eye followed James — and then, inevitably, me.
It wasn't hostility.
It was something else.
Something older.
Recognition.
They didn't bow. They didn't need to.
The respect was in the silence that fell between conversations, in the way shoulders straightened and laughter quieted.
James's hand rested low on my back, a quiet promise in the way his fingers brushed my skin through the fabric of my dress.
You are not alone.
I lifted my chin, inhaling slowly. The scent of wolves — of cedar, smoke, and salt — layered thick in the air, mingling with the perfume of roses and the sharp sweetness of champagne.
We walked together through the crowd.
Lucian appeared first, tall and polished, his grin bright as ever. His fiancée, Serena, was beside him — her energy light and genuine, a soft counterbalance to the controlled chaos of the pack.
"Luna," Lucian greeted, bowing his head slightly. "You honor us with your presence."
The word Luna rolled through the air like a ripple of acknowledgment.
I smiled, steady but warm. "Congratulations, Lucian. Serena, you look stunning."
Serena's eyes softened. "And you… you look like a queen."
Her sincerity disarmed me, and for a brief moment, I forgot the politics. "Thank you," I said quietly. "I hope tonight brings you every happiness."
Lucian laughed. "If it doesn't, my Alpha will have to intervene."
James gave him a dry look. "Try not to start a pack war at your own engagement."
The humor settled the air — for a moment.
Then, like the faint scent of smoke before a fire, I felt her.
Victoria.
Even before I saw her, I felt the shift in James beside me — a quiet tensing, a subtle bracing.
And then she was there.
Golden. Literally.
Her gown clung like liquid metal, every movement deliberate, every smile calculated. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, and her eyes — those sharp, intelligent green eyes — found us instantly.
Found me.
She glided toward us, the crowd parting instinctively around her.
"James," she said, her tone light, affectionate. "You clean up well."
He didn't let go of my hand. "I try."
Her gaze flicked to me — a brief up-and-down, subtle enough to be polite, sharp enough to wound.
"Elena," she said smoothly. "You look lovely tonight."
"Thank you," I said, voice calm. "So do you."
"Gold's a dangerous color," she said, tilting her head. "But I suppose we all like a little danger now and then."
James's hand tightened slightly at my back. "Victoria—"
She cut him off with a laugh, the sound musical but hollow. "Relax, Alpha. It's a compliment.
Lucian cleared his throat, ever the peacemaker. "Serena and I should greet the Elders." He gave me a look — protective, respectful. You have this.
And then they were gone.
For a moment, the air between the three of us was thick with unspoken history.
Victoria turned her attention fully to James, her smile softening into something almost nostalgic. "It's been a while," she said quietly. "You've been… difficult to reach."
"I've been busy," he replied evenly. "Running a company. A pack. Building a future."
"With her," she said, not even pretending to hide the edge in her voice.
"Yes," he said simply.
The finality in his tone made something in her expression crack — not visibly, but enough for me to feel it.
Still, she pressed on. "You don't need to be cold with me, James. We were friends once."
He sighed. "We still are. But you crossed a line, Victoria."
Her jaw tightened. "I told her the truth."
"It wasn't your truth to tell."
Her lips curved into something brittle. "She deserved to know what kind of man she's dealing with."
I spoke before I could stop myself. "She already knows."
Victoria's eyes flicked to me, sharp. "Does she?"
"Yes," I said quietly. "Better than anyone ever has."
She held my gaze for a heartbeat too long, then smiled — slow, deliberate, almost pitying. "We'll see."
And with that, she turned, brushing past James with a whisper of gold and perfume, leaving a trail of tension in her wake.
James exhaled. "She'll try to provoke you."
"I know."
"Don't let her."
I smiled faintly. "She's not the one who can get under my skin, James."
That earned me a rare, small smile — soft and dangerous at once.
Later, while he spoke with one of the Elders, I slipped away to the bar for some air — and distance.
The bartender smiled politely. "What may I get you, Luna?"
The title still caught me off guard. I smiled back. "Just sparkling water, please."
He nodded. "No wine?"
"Not tonight."
The truth was, I didn't want it.
I didn't want anything clouding the strange clarity humming beneath my skin.
As I waited, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar — calm, poised, but my eyes… they glowed faintly silver in the candlelight.
I blinked, startled. The glow faded as quickly as it had appeared.
"Here you go," the bartender said, setting the glass before me.
"Thank you."
I took a sip, the bubbles stinging pleasantly against my lips, and tried to steady myself.
But before I could, a sound drifted through the air — laughter.
Hers.
I turned.
Across the room, Victoria had cornered James near the marble staircase, her hand resting too easily on his arm as she leaned in to say something. Her expression was one of practiced intimacy, her lips curving into that old, knowing smile.
My chest tightened.
He wasn't smiling back.
But he wasn't pushing her away either.
The sight stung — not because I didn't trust him, but because I knew what it was like to be the outsider, the newcomer in a world already written before you.
They had history. Shared memories.
And yet… he was mine.
A faint vibration rolled through the air — my bond with him, thrumming like a living thing.
And then, as if he felt it too, he looked up.
Our eyes met across the ballroom.
Whatever Victoria was saying, he didn't hear it anymore.
His gaze locked on mine, unflinching, unwavering.
The look in it said everything.
I see you. I choose you.
My breath left me all at once.
Victoria followed his gaze, turning to see what held him so completely — and when she saw me, her smile faltered. Just for a heartbeat.
But it was enough.
James excused himself, gently but firmly removing her hand from his arm, and walked toward me.
The crowd parted again.
He didn't stop until he was right in front of me, close enough that I could smell the faint trace of his cologne beneath the cedar and smoke of the room.
"You left me to deal with politics alone," he murmured.
"I needed water," I said softly. "And air."
He studied me — the tension in my shoulders, the untouched glass in my hand, the storm behind my calm. "You okay?"
I nodded. "Perfectly fine."
He didn't believe me. He never did.
His fingers brushed mine, stealing the glass from my hand and setting it aside. "You're lying," he said gently.
"Maybe," I whispered.
And then he leaned in — not to kiss me, but to rest his forehead against mine, just for a heartbeat.
The world fell away.
Around us, music swelled.
Laughter continued.
But none of it reached me.
He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. "She's nothing compared to you."
"I know," I said.
He smiled — slow, dangerous, proud. "Good."
The rest of the evening blurred in warmth and gold.
Wolves came to greet us, one by one — some with respect, some with curiosity, none with defiance.
Every time someone addressed me as Luna, the word felt less foreign.
Every time I felt his hand at the small of my back, steady and protective, I stood a little taller.
And through it all, Victoria watched from across the room, her golden smile fixed and cracking.
When we finally left, the night outside was cool and still.
James opened the car door for me as always, his fingers brushing mine, his gaze steady.
Inside the car, silence stretched — not empty, but full.
I turned to look at him. "You didn't have to defend me."
He smiled faintly, eyes on the road. "I wasn't defending you."
"No?"
"I was reminding everyone what happens when someone forgets who she is."
"And who am I?"
He looked at me then, eyes gleaming silver in the dark. "You're the Luna who walks beside me. The woman who doesn't need defending."
I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest.
Outside, the stars blurred by — sharp, brilliant, endless.
Inside, the air hummed softly between us, the faintest trace of something new and alive pulsing beneath my skin.
And as we drove home, I realized — this wasn't the end of the storm.
It was the calm before something much greater.