The lanterns swayed overhead, firelight kissing the edges of Demisule's obsidian jeweled gown. Her every step was deliberate, soft, as she glided to meet him halfway through the garden.
"Your pack is impressive," she murmured, circling Ligon as though measuring him. "Strong. Magnificent. Commanding. Each one of you, even the weak ones. I can see why your enemies surrender before they strike."
He folded his arms. "Flattery isn't a currency we trade in here."
"Then consider this a gift," she whispered, tracing a finger along the bulge of his arm. "My people believe alliances are best sealed with…shared breath."
"I would rather accept respect as a most suitable gift" Ligon countered.
Demisule's lips curved. "Respect," she echoed, pausing behind him. "Such a lonely word for a man who leads alone. Now I know how desperately you really need me"
He didn't move, though her perfume drifted close. The strong scent pulsed the air like a threat. "I don't know where you get your delusions but I am not alone."
"Really?" She whispered, her voice dipped in mischief. "Then who is with you? Your pack?" She scoffed as she continued "A pack's loyalty is not companionship. When you close your door, Alpha, whose voice answers yours? Whose moans pacify your palate"
Valia's face flashed through his mind, as he stared down at her with cold eyes "That is none of your concern."
"But it should be." Her gaze flicked up to his unfazed. "You need a queen who understands the weight of the crown . Someone who can smile at the council and bare her fangs when needed. Not some…..naive creature still learning where power sleeps."
Ligon's eyes flashed. "You speak far too boldly for a guest."
"I speak like your woman is supposed to," she countered, stepping closer until her breath brushed his neck. "Your kingdom needs a partner, not a burden. I could be that. I know how to rule beside an Alpha. I am worthy of you. Let me help you breathe easier"
Ligon sighed tiredly as he took a step backwards. "I already have enough trouble breathing around you, Lady Demisule. Let's not make it fatal."
Demisule laughed, low and sensual. "Oh, Alpha, that was almost charming. I am liking you. More and More" she smirked
Her fingers found his chest, tracing slow, dangerous lines. "You'd never have to teach me your ways. I already know the taste of power... amongst other things" she concluded, running her tongue along her lip as she pinched his nipple , then caressed.
Ligon caught her wrist in disgust, the tension between them crackling "Lady Demisule—"
But she leaned in, pressing herself lightly against him, then firmly , riding softly up-down against his body, her voice barely a whisper. "Then let me show you diplomacy the way kings forget."
"Enough." His tone cut like a blade, as he yanked her from him. The garden had gone silent except for the soft whistle that cut through the air—half admiration, half disbelief.
Valia stood framed in the archway, eyes wide but gaze unreadable, the faint arch of her brows the only betrayal.
"Well," she murmured, dry amusement curling around the word, "seems alliances carry more flavor than soups. A discovery I never sought. Forgive my interruption Alpha"
She offered a shallow bow, then turned to go.
Demisule only smiled, victorious and unbothered.
Ligon stepped back, pushing her away gently but firmly. "This isn't what it looks like," he started
Before he could explain, screams tore through the air. Sharp, raw. Painful.
He moved before he could think, Valia and Demisule surged in his wake.