Theodor took a second before answering.
Not because he lacked words. But because, for the first time that night, the right ones did not come easily.
His hand remained beneath hers. He did not tighten his grip. He did not withdraw. It simply stayed there, as though any movement might confirm something he was still trying to deny.
—She left, he said at last. —Said she needed air. Perhaps… distance.
The way he spoke the word distance revealed more than he intended. It was not merely physical. It was something he had been ignoring for far too long.
He lowered his gaze for a moment, his shoulders finally yielding to the weight he had carried all day.
—You are right, he continued, his voice quieter now, stripped of Alpha posture. —About everything. And that is what unsettles me most.
He lifted his eyes again to meet hers.
—I thought protecting Dandara was loyalty. I thought closing my eyes was kindness. A brief, bitter smile touched his mouth. —In the end, it was only cowardice dressed well.
The hall remained alive around them. Laughter, music, the rhythm of dancing feet. Life continues despite the failures of its leaders. It always does.
—When you spoke of your father… he exhaled slowly. —I saw it. Not the threat. The choice. You could have ended this tonight. And you did not.
He turned his hand, carefully interlacing his fingers with hers, almost with excessive respect.
—And still, I am the one diminished.
Sapphire stirred within Elizabeth, restless.
—He is learning. Slowly. Like every proud male, she muttered. —Still, I am watching him.
Theodor felt the echo of the she-wolf like a chill along his spine. He did not answer her. Not yet. He knew any misplaced word would earn him teeth.
—I do not wish to be a blind Alpha, he said, firmer now. —Nor a man who loses his own dignity trying to save someone who does not wish to be corrected.
A pause.
—But I will not pretend this is simple. Dandara… he closed his eyes briefly. —She has always been there. And realizing that perhaps I committed a mistake instead of preventing one is not easy.
He opened his eyes again, looking at Elizabeth with something rare. Vulnerability.
—This alliance may be political, he repeated her words as though weighing them. —But you are right. We are choices.
He squeezed her hand lightly.
—And today, I chose poorly.
Sapphire huffed, less irritated now.
—At least he can count to two.
Theodor let out something close to a tired laugh.
—Tell your wolf that… he hesitated. —I will try to deserve less of her anger.
Elizabeth's faint smile remained, and that, strangely, frightened him more than if she had shouted.
Because he knew.
Her sense of justice forgives.
But it does not forget.
---
Dandara had not gone far.
She had taken refuge on one of the inner balconies, where the music arrived muffled and the night's cold could bite unseen. Leaning against the stone balustrade, she gripped the pink fabric of her dress too tightly, as if she could crush reality until it bent into the shape she desired.
She drew in a deep breath. Once. Twice.
Nothing.
The image of Elizabeth seated beside Theodor returned like a slow blade. There had been no triumph in that calm smile. There had been possession. And that angered her more than any public humiliation.
—He always comes back, she murmured to herself, like an old spell. —He always has.
Since they were pups.
Since she cried in secret so he would come. Since she erred in small ways so he could correct her grandly. Since she learned that well-used fragility was an invisible leash.
Dandara did not see herself as a villain. She never had. In her own reflection, she was merely someone who could not bear being left behind. And Theodor… Theodor had always hated the thought of abandoning her. She had nurtured that carefully, year after year, like watering a poisonous plant that blooms only in shadow.
Elizabeth was different.
She did not compete. She did not beg. She did not demand.
That was intolerable.
—She does not love you, she whispered, rehearsing the line. —She loves the throne. The Moon. The name.
She took a few steps, her heels echoing softly. She was thinking quickly now. Not of confrontation. Dandara never attacked head-on. She thought of erosion. Of doubt. Of small fractures.
The dress had been too much. She admitted that. Excess. Anxiety. She had wanted to be seen. She had wanted to provoke. And she had provoked the wrong person.
Then she would change strategy.
Guilt worked better than challenge. Silence better than insistence. A carefully measured withdrawal would make Theodor question whether he had been too harsh. Whether he had overreacted. Whether he ought to protect her just a little longer.
She knew this path.
—I will disappear, she decided. —Not now. Gradually.
First, emotional distance. Then controlled sadness. Lowered eyes. An incomplete apology, the kind that makes the other wish to mend the rest.
And if that failed…
Her gaze darkened briefly.
Then she would speak of fear. Of loneliness. Of how Elizabeth made her feel small.
Theodor hated believing he had wounded someone who depended on him.
He always had.
Dandara smiled at nothing.
It was not open war. Not yet. It was patience. And she had always been skilled at waiting while others believed they had won.
In the hall, the music continued.
At the main table, the Moon conversed with the Sun.
And in the shadow of the balcony, a she-wolf who had never learned how to lose silently contemplated her next lie.