"A perfect match!" the Wolf Watch Tonight's reporter was practically screaming into her microphone. "Princess Lyra and Castor Ivor—what a union, the match of a century! The Royals and Ivor houses are officially joined tonight, this will strengthen the entire northern alliance! Princess Lyra is Luna Ivor!"
Adele clapped politely along with everyone else. Despite everything, she was genuinely happy for her little sister.
On the platform, Alpha Magnus was smiling, albert small, but smiling. The hard lines of his face had softened into something approaching pride, and when he looked at his younger daughter—his mated daughter, there was warmth in his eyes that made Adele's chest ache.
She'd never seen him look at her that way. He was completely indifferent to her existence.
"A blessing," Magnus said, his voice carrying over the crowd. "The Goddess smiles on our house tonight."
The ceremony continued with the formal blessing of the new bond, the exchange of traditional vows, the binding of ceremonial ribbons around the couple's wrists. Through it all, Lyra glowed. Adele noticed, how Castor Ivor looked at her like she'd hung the moon herself. The cameras captured everything.
Beside her, Adele's brother Caspian de Frostfang caught her eye and offered a small, sympathetic smile.
It would be no exageration to say that she is afraid of her father because of the way he looks at her with cold eyes.
Still, she had clung to a small hope that one day he would look at her with affection too, if only she could find a worthy mate. But that fragile hope shattered on her coming of age night.
"Adele."
She turned to find Caspian looking at her again. Her brother was two years older, already mated and the future Alpha of the pack with all the confidence that came with knowing your place in the world. But where their father was cold stone, Caspian had inherited their mother's warmth.
"You alright?" he asked quietly, positioning himself so his body blocked her from the nearest camera.
"Of course." Her smile was automatic. "It's a wonderful night."
"It is." He didn't look convinced. "Lyra's happy."
"She deserves to be."
"So do you."
Adele's smile faltered for just a second. "I am happy, for her."
Before he could respond, their conversation was interrupted by a member of the media. "Alpha Magnus and Lord Ivor," the reporter called out brightly, "may we have a photograph of the soon-to-be family together?"
Lyra, standing beside her mate, glanced toward Adele for the first time that evening. She leaned in to murmur something into Castor's ear, then crossed the short distance between them.
She takes Adele's clasped hands in her own, holding them warmly, radiating her sweet smile. Stepping closer, she lowers her voice, keeping it gentle enough for only them to hear.
"Adele," she murmured sweetly, "would you mind sitting out for the photographs? Castor's family is a little worried about your… frail health. These sessions can go on for quite a while, and we'd hate for you to tire yourself out."
Lyra turned away after receiving Adele's nod, rejoining the rest of the shining wolves. Adele stood at her place and watched as they all moved toward the area designated for the official photoshoot.
Hours later, back in her room, Adele sat at the small desk beside her bed. She hadn't changed out of her clothes yet. Her fever was acting through but she wanted to complete her writing.
For a princess, the room was quite modest and tucked into one of the older wings of the ancient castle, where stone walls built thick and windows narrow to endure heavy snow and centuries alike. The things inside are old and used, but she keeps it clean and most of the time no one bothers her.
She had kept the small windows of her room open, allowing a gentle summer breeze to slip inside and cool the room.
The room carried the quiet charm of an old European keep with a narrow hearth not currently in use. She hadn't turned on the overhead lights. Instead, a small lamp on her desk cast a warm light across the page of her diary. Despite its size, she liked her room, because it reminded her of tanquil time unlike when she is in hospital bed.
Her phone rests nearby, but there is no one to call. The diary is her only place where she can put her thoughts out.
Her pen stilled suddenly as her mind drifted back to the ceremony, which was still not over yet.
"The younger before the elder..."
"How old is the first princess now?"
"Twenty-two, I think."
"Twenty-two and still nothing? Such disgrace for our pack!!"
"Maybe there's something wrong with her."
"Or maybe she's just cursed—"
"Don't say that. That's cruel."
"I'm just saying what everyone's thinking."
Adele's nails bit into her palms. It wasn't as though the gossip had ever been absent, but it had grown louder after she failed to find a mate.
Adele's twenty-second birthday was four months ago, and people lost hope that she will meet her mate.
Of course, there were many common werewolves who never found their destined partner, but royals were different. Adele was the first known exception, a mate-less royal she-wolf, even across other territories as well.
By precedence, all of the royal she-wolves are able to sense their destined partner before completing their twentieth year. Royal males, by contrast, takes a little bit of more time and the last finds their mates until twenty-five.
Her father sent her to the International Galas', where unmated royals and nobles from different packs gathered for finding a partner. Cross-pack mating was quietly frowned upon in the society.
She attended those galas for three long years but nothing happened. After that, her father stopped sending there. That was when Adele understood: he had lost faith in her.
She remembered, her Father standing beside Lyra and Castor, one hand on his younger daughter's shoulder, posing for photographs looking proud and happy. Perhaps, this was what a father looked like when his daughter brought honor to the family. And Adele had never seen him look that way because of her.
She'd become a living reminder of failure in a family defined by success.
And for the nth time she wondered, if she hadn't been this weak, would her father.....would she have been loved instead of abandoned?
She hears birds chirping in the trees outside and turns toward the window.
"Good morning, little creatures."
Lyra must be back by now. I haven't congratulated her yet.
Adele rose from the desk and moved toward the door, and on the open page she left behind, were her words:
'Am I a disgrace?'
The castle was quiet at this early hour, overhead lights had been switched off, leaving only the pale gray light of approaching sunrise filtering through the narrow windows to guide her way. Her steps were silent against the cold stone, she had taught herself to walk like a ghost to hide her presence from unwanted attention.
Shame. Disgrace. Cursed one. Forgetten by the goddess. Unmarked. These words from the ceremony were echoing in her mind. With the weight of thousand stones pressing down on her, she moved forward.
As she approached Lyra's door, Adele rehearsed what she'd say. Something simple like, Congratulations. I'm so happy for you. Castor seems wonderful. She hoped Lyra to be awake.
Just as she raised her hand to knock, she froze.
"Ahhh! Yes!!"
"I love it so much! J-just like that, Haa! Yes."
She could hear Lyra making sounds that Adele had never heard her sister make before.
Was Lyra hurt or sick? She was confused and concerned. Should she knock? What if something was terribly wrong?
She raised her hand to knock again that's when she heard a low, distinctly male groan. And her eyes went wide.
"God, you're incredible, baby." Adele could tell it was Castor's voice along with his groan.
"I need more, Alpha Castor! You hurt me so good."
Was Castor hurting Lyra?
"Yes baby! Spread your legs, I want to see you more. Hmmm. So Good, just like that." Adele's breath hitched as mild panic attack set in. "You should be rewarded properly after, what my love did with that filth of her family."
Filth? Adele heard Lyra's soft laugh, followed by her intimate heavy breathing as reply.