The Royal Alpha

Chapter 30: The Claiming Ceremony [Part 2]

"Why do I look so ugly?" Tatiana groans, twirling a lock of her ash-blond curls around her finger for the tenth time.

I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts. If only she could see herself the way everyone else does. Those pale curls catch the light effortlessly, her green eyes bright and expressive, her figure balanced and confident. She's barely an inch taller than me, but she carries herself like someone who's never had to doubt her place in a room.

"You are not ugly," I say firmly. "Sit. I'll do your hair."

Her face brightens instantly. "You're a lifesaver, kiddo."

She ruffles my hair affectionately before settling into the chair by the mirror. I move behind her, fingers already working through her curls, and let myself focus on the task—on the familiar comfort of doing something with my hands. Anything to keep my thoughts from drifting where they've been circling all day.

Fenris still hasn't arrived.

My parents came yesterday. So did his adoptive parents. The Alphas followed soon after. But Fenris—and the eldest son of the Alpha—are nowhere to be seen. And neither is Elder Raoul.

I tried asking him about it earlier, but he'd brushed past me with his usual stubborn silence, bag slung over his shoulder and a list of duties pressed into my hands as his apprentice. One moment he was there. The next, gone.

Typical.

"So," Tatiana says casually, watching me in the mirror. "Why aren't you dressed yet? What are you wearing?"

I refocus on her hair. All the she-wolves had been allowed a brief trip to the nearby human village to shop for the ceremony—none of us had planned for something this formal. But I'd wandered those shops distracted and restless, unable to settle on anything while my mind kept circling back to Fenris. To his absence. To the unanswered questions he left behind.

I gather her hair into a smooth, elegant bun, leaving a few loose tendrils to frame her face. The style highlights her eyes beautifully, deepened further by the purple scoop-neck, floor-length dress she's wearing—embroidered delicately, regal without being loud. Very maid of honor.

Because that's what she is.

In our world, we don't have human weddings. But tradition dictates that the closest friend of the she-wolf stands beside her during the mating ceremony. Tatiana takes that role seriously—even if she pretends not to.

I step back, admiring my work, and give her shoulder a satisfied squeeze before moving toward my wardrobe.

I'd packed a few dresses when I came here, just in case. My fingers brush past fabrics until I pause at a simple light-brown, sleeveless, A-line gown. Floor-length. Understated. Safe.

But not invisible.

I lift it out and lay it across the bed, studying it for a moment longer than necessary. I hope—ridiculously—that my bare shoulders might catch Fenris's attention if he comes. That instinct might do what words never could. The thought of his mark, warm and claiming against my skin, sends a shiver down my spine—and with it, a low ache that makes my breath hitch.

I shake my head sharply. Not now.

"That's a good one," Tatiana says from behind me. "Fenris won't be able to take his eyes off you."

"If he comes," I murmur.

She scoffs. "He'll come. It's his friend's mating ceremony. He wouldn't miss it even if the Alpha himself ordered him to stay away."