The moment I stepped inside, the outside world… disappeared. The boardroom wasn't grand in the way kingdoms displayed power.
It didn't need to be.
High ceilings. Clean lines. Stone and dark wood—neutral, deliberate. A long central table dominated the room, its surface polished but unadorned. No carvings. No insignias.
No one owned this space.
Representatives were already seated. Not randomly.
Never randomly. Dravenmoor occupied one side—solid presence, broad shoulders, minimal movement. They didn't shift, didn't whisper. They didn't need to.
Lunaris—
Harder to read. They blended into their seats like shadows given form. Relaxed, almost disinterested… but their eyes moved. Always watching. Always calculating.
I took my place beside Fred, posture easy, mind sharp.
Control.
Always in control.
"Beta Michelle."
The voice came from across the table—one of Dravenmoor's senior commanders.
I inclined my head slightly. "Commander."
"Your northern campaign," he continued, voice carrying quiet approval, "was executed with precision."
I gave a small nod. "It was necessary."
A faint smirk touched his lips. "Efficiency is rarely that clean."
"Preparation," I corrected calmly.
Fred nudged my leg under the table.
"Show off." I ignored him.
Another voice followed—smoother, measured. The Alpha of Lunaris.
"I've also heard," he said, fingers steepled lightly, "that your father was a man of considerable military brilliance."
My gaze met his evenly.
"I try my best to live upto his standards."
He studied me a second longer than necessary.Then leaned back. Satisfied. Or pretending to be.
Fred leaned slightly toward me, voice low enough not to carry.
"You're enjoying this."
"I'm tolerating it."
"Liar."
I didn't respond.
Because the room was settling. Positions taken.
Attention narrowing. Waiting. And then—
The doors opened.
No announcement at first. Just movement. And somehow— That was enough. The shift was immediate. Subtle… but undeniable. Conversations stilled. Postures straightened.
Even Lunaris stopped pretending not to care.
Then the voice came— Clear. Formal
"The Crown Prince Alexander Vale of Aurelion… and Princess Eleanor Vale."
Silence followed. Not forced. Instinctive. I looked up.
Two figures entered.
And it was obvious—immediately, unmistakably—
Aurelion didn't compete. It arrived.
Alexander Vale walked with quiet authority, every step measured, every movement controlled without appearing rigid. He didn't scan the room.
He didn't need to. He already understood it.
But I barely registered him.
Because—
Something in me stilled.
Not sharply.
Not violently.
Just—
Paused.
Like instinct had leaned forward without fully committing. Kael didn't just surge.He rose with full attention and need.
And I just… watched.
I didn't react. Didn't even question it.
Because my attention had already shifted—
To her.
Eleanor Vale.
She moved beside Alexander, perfectly aligned—not behind, not ahead.
Equal.
That alone said everything. Her presence was loud.
Attention naturally followed. And she held herself effortlessly.
My gaze locked— And didn't move.
She was… devastating beautiful. Not the kind of beauty people spoke about. The kind that stopped thought.
Her hair fell like dark silk, soft waves catching the light just enough to draw the eye and hold it there. Effortless. Untouched.
Her skin—smooth, luminous under the muted lighting—carried a softness that didn't suggest fragility, but something far more dangerous.
Perfection without trying.
"I want to feel that", Kael said, voice already gone.
"Don't."
He ignored me.
Can't complain because I was doing the same.
Her features were sculpted with precision—sharp enough to command attention, softened just enough to make it impossible to look away. Every line deliberate.
Every detail… intentional.
But her eyes—
That's where I lost control.
Dark.
Deep.
Not just black—But consuming.
Layered with something far sharper than beauty.
Awareness.
Intelligence.
Power.
The kind of eyes that didn't just see you—They understood you.
And when they lifted—
When they aligned with mine—
Everything in me stilled.
Kael didn't hesitate.
Didn't question.
Didn't hold back.
"Mate" he stated.
The word settled into my bones like truth.
Final. Unavoidable.
Five years.
Five years of waiting.
Of something missing I couldn't name.
Of Kael's restlessness, my own quiet irritation at connections that never felt right.
And now—
I knew why.
Because she stood there like she had always been meant to. Like every empty moment had been leading to this one.
"Finally," Kael breathed. "There she is".
I forced my expression to remain neutral.
"This is not the time."
"It is exactly the time. She's ours."
"She's a princess," I corrected.
A pause.
Then—
"Even better." I almost scoffed.
"Use your head."
"I am. Your are the one acting unaffected".
My jaw tightened.
Because I wasn't unaffected. I was controlled by her.
And there was a difference.
"Go to her," Kael urged, sharper now.
"No."
"Five years."
"I know."
Then move.
"We don't disrespect her."
That stopped him.
Then—
"…Explain."
"We do this right," I said, voice steady even in my own head. "After the meeting."
" After?"
He agreed without argument.
"Fine", he muttered. "But I'm not waiting longer than necessary."
"Good." Because neither was I.
The room shifted. Protocol took over. All three kingdoms rose.
Not for power.
Not for status.
For respect.
Voices followed—measured, controlled.
Condolences.
For their King.
For their loss.
For their father.
No one rushed it.
No one spoke out of turn.
Even Lunaris held its tongue.
The weight of it settled across the room—heavy, undeniable.
And then—
Silence.
Two full minutes.
Still.
Respectful.
Final.
Even Kael didn't speak.
Didn't push.
Didn't urge.
Because some things—
Even instinct understood.
When the moment passed, we sat. Alexander and Eleanor took their seats. Side by side. Equal.
Unshaken.
Composed.
Like grief was something they carried—but never displayed.
The meeting began.Voices returned. Politics resumed. Strategies unfolded. And I listened.
Responded when needed.
Maintained control. But beneath all of it—Constant.
Steady. Unrelenting—Was her.
Her presence. Her existence. The bond.
Five years of waiting—Gone in a single moment.
And now—
There was no uncertainty. No doubt.
Only one thing left— Patience.
Because when this meeting ended—I wasn't walking away.
Not this time.