By the time the banquet hall doors opened, Priscilla's hands were already trembling. She was anxious about making any mistakes and the punishment that would follow. Candles lined the long stone walls, their flames dancing against golden pillars. Silk banners hung from the ceiling in soft pastels meant to impress. Crystal goblets gleamed beneath the chandeliers. Everything looked polished.
Everything except her.
She stood near the serving table in a plain cream dress they had thrown at her an hour ago. It was cleaner than her usual clothes but still unmistakably servant's wear. She didn't dare complain. Her silver hair was tied back loosely, strands escaping no matter how many times she tucked them behind her pointed ears.
"Remember," the woman who assisted her in the kitchen whispered beside her, adjusting a tray. "Keep your head down. Move quickly. Don't speak unless spoken to." Priscilla nodded. The massive doors creaked open. The first thing she felt was the shift in the air. It was heavy and commanding.
Then she smelled it. Peppermint. Sharp, clean, and cold. Her breath hitched.
Warriors entered first — tall, broad, dressed in dark leathers with weapons strapped across their backs. Their boots stomped against the marble floor in perfect rhythm. Behind them walked two men who radiated authority even without trying. One had crimson red hair and sharp features with calculating eyes — controlled, observant. The other looked slightly older and had dark brown hair with gray streaks but no less dangerous. And between them…Was him.
The Alpha.
He was taller than the rest, shoulders broad beneath a dark tailored coat. His dark blue hair was attractively messy and his eyes were a piercing amber. His posture was perfect and his legs made long confident strides. His presence swallowed the room. Not loud nor dramatic, just absolute.
The fairy nobles immediately shifted, some bowing slightly, others straightening their posture as if instinctively recognizing power. Priscilla kept her gaze lowered but she could feel him. His aura…It was like standing too close to a fire you weren't allowed to touch. Her pulse thundered in her ears, the weight of making no mistakes and trying not to be seen laid heavy on her.
"Alpha Alexander of the Northern Pack," one of the royal advisors announced. "We welcome you."
"So that was his name…Alexander…", she thought.
The peppermint scent grew stronger as he stepped farther into the hall. Priscilla swallowed hard and lifted her tray of drinks. This was her task. Move, serve, then disappear. She approached the line of warriors first, keeping her movements careful and small. A goblet here. A bow of the head there. Then she reached him. Her eyes stayed focused on the silver tray.
"Wine, Alpha?" she asked quietly, her voice steady only because she forced it to be. Silence filled the air. The kind that stretched and the air had changed again. Stronger this time. Peppermint wrapped around her like frost against her bare skin. And then…
He inhaled. Slowly. Deliberately. Priscilla's fingers tightened around the tray.
Cupcakes. That's what he smelled. Warm, sweet and soft.
"Impossible.", he thought. "MATE", his inner wolf exclaimed, ringing in his head. Alex's eyes dropped to her. She felt it before she saw it. The weight of his gaze pressing against her skin.
"Look at me," he said calmly. It wasn't loud, but it wasn't a request. Her stomach twisted. The kitchen worker's warning echoed in her head. Keep your head down. Priscilla hesitated a fraction too long. "I said," his voice lowered slightly, colder now, "look at me."
Slowly, Priscilla lifted her eyes and the world that existed beyond them narrowed into nothingness. His eyes weren't just golden — they were sharp and almost predatory. Like he could see straight through her skin and into the fragile heart that beated intensely inside her chest.The tray in her delicate yet calloused hands trembled. The hall noise faded into a distant hum.
He stepped closer. A little too close. The peppermint scent intensified.
"What is your name?" he asked. No one spoke to servants like this. Not nobles and definitely not Alphas.
"P-Priscilla," she answered before she could stop herself. Raphael, who she assumed was his beta, shifted subtly beside him, noticing and watching. Alex's gaze didn't leave her. Priscilla became acutely aware of every single one of her imperfections— the slight stain on her sleeve, the roughness of her hands, the fact that she did not belong in a hall like this.
"You're trembling," he observed. It wasn't meant to be cruel. It was factual.
"I apologize, Alpha," she whispered. "I'll steady myself." He leaned in just slightly. Close enough that if she moved forward even an inch, she would collide with him. "You don't smell afraid," he said quietly. Priscilla's breath caught. The words were low enough that only she could hear them. "Excuse me?" she breathed. His jaw flexed as he continued to take in her intoxicating scent of cupcakes.
The scent wrapped around him again, warm and unsettling. Not noble perfume or calculated seduction like he was far too used to. It was natural and untouched. Fairy Lunas chosen by Alphas were trained, presented, and paraded. This one wore servant's cloth. And yet… His wolf stirred. It wasn't a violent stir but a curious one. Raphael stepped forward smoothly. "Alpha," he murmured as a reminder.
Right…He was here for a reason. To select a Luna from the royal bloodlines. To discuss political advantages and strategic alliances. Not to occupy himself with whatever this was. He had no mate and he thought his wolf was playing him as a fool. Alex straightened slightly, mask of control sliding back into place. "Serve the others," he said evenly.
Dismissal.
Priscilla lowered her gaze immediately. "Yes, Alpha." But as she moved past him, their arms brushed. It was accidental and barely any contact. Yet it sent a sharp current up her spine. She almost dropped the tray and behind her… she felt it. His attention. Not on the noble fairies presenting themselves at the front of the hall. Not on the royal advisors speaking about lineage and eligibility.
But on her.
The rest of the evening blurred. Potential Fairy Lunas stepped forward one by one, dressed in shimmering gowns, offering rehearsed smiles. Priscilla moved silently between tables, refilling goblets, collecting plates. She tried her hardest to ignore the peppermint scent that seemed to follow her no matter where she stood. At one point, she risked a glance across the hall.
And he was watching her.
Not constantly but often enough. And not softly but evaluating. As if she were a problem he had not anticipated. As if he didn't like not understanding something. Not being in control. Her stomach tightened. This was dangerous. She didn't know how but she felt it in her bones. And when the final Luna candidate stepped forward and the royal advisor asked, "Alpha Alex, have you decided?"…
The hall went silent.
Priscilla froze mid-step.
She didn't know why her heart was pounding. This had nothing to do with her. She was a slave that was tasked to cater to tonight's guests and when the night was over, she would go back to her room on the highest floor to rot away. Across the room, Alex's golden eyes lifted. They did not look at the adorned fairy vying for the position of Luna before him. They looked way past her. Through the crowd. And landed on the beautiful servant holding an empty silver tray.
On Priscilla.
And for the first time since entering the palace, the Alpha hesitated.