CHAPTER 264: QUEEN’S PARTY V

ADAM

The walls between the banquet hall and this smaller reception chamber weren’t thick enough to block the noise of celebration, but they blurred it into something distant and strange—laughter reduced to a muffled hum, music softened into a ghostly echo.

The air was heavier here, warmer, carrying the sweet bite of wine and the lingering scent of roasted meats. A faint curl of smoke from the hearth reached me, earthy and familiar.

I lounged back in the high-backed chair, one ankle crossed over my knee, goblet balanced in my hand. My fingers traced the polished stem slowly, over and over. The firelight danced in restless shapes, licking up the blackened logs, and I found myself watching it the way one might watch a dangerous animal—entranced and wary.

The flames reminded me of her.

Dora. A false name, but it was all I had of her.

Dora. Reckless. Bold. Infuriating.

I could still see her as clearly as if she were standing in the room now—chin lifted, voice carrying through the great hall without a tremor.

The entire court had gone silent, spellbound, while she dismantled the Queen’s lies piece by piece. She might as well have walked onto a battlefield with nothing but her bare hands. And she hadn’t flinched once.

Brave? Absolutely.

Foolish? Even more so.

I took a slow sip of wine, the deep red clinging to my tongue before sliding down my throat. I tried to push her image away, but my thoughts kept circling back, stubborn as a wolf stalking prey.

That mouth—sharp, defiant—had cut through every layer of deceit tonight. And the part of me I hated most had wondered, while she was speaking, what it would be like to silence it with my own.

She was beautiful. Too beautiful for her own safety. Too beautiful for me.

The problem wasn’t just her—it was the way she drew men like moths to flame. My brothers, Daniel and Noah, were circling her as surely as I was. I didn’t like competing with my own blood, but my wolf didn’t care about family loyalties. It cared about the prize.

And Dora was worth any fight.

I tipped my goblet back again, letting the wine burn away the taste of jealousy.

The Queen wouldn’t take what happened tonight lightly. She’d been humiliated in front of everyone who mattered. I doubted she’d let that humiliation rest quietly.

And my father...

A muscle tightened in my jaw. The Lycan King had been silent through Dora’s speech, but I’d seen the way his eyes followed her—calculating, weighing, judging. He never let emotion show on his face, but I knew him well enough to read the small tells: the slight narrowing of his eyes, the faint shift of his stance.

He was planning something.

"Where’s Noah?" Daniel’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I turned my head lazily toward him. He was by the side table, filling his goblet, the wine glugging into the silver cup. Timothy stood beside him, arms folded.

"Went out to take in the night air," Timothy answered, voice casual.

The door opened sharply then, and Claire swept in. Her skirts flared around her legs with each stride, and her expression was as sharp as a blade. Naomi followed behind her, but my attention lingered there.

Naomi’s cheeks were flushed, but not from drink. Her eyes burned with something else—anger, maybe even hurt. Her lips were pressed tight, as if she were holding back words that might shatter if they came out too soon.

Something cold slid through me. Had something happened to Dora?

Daniel was already on alert. "What’s the matter?"

Claire’s gaze went straight to me first, and it wasn’t friendly. "We just saw her," she said, her voice sweet with venom. "Dora. Outside. Kissing Noah."

The words landed like a blow to the gut. My fingers went rigid around the goblet stem.

I turned to Naomi, searching her face for denial, for even a shred of doubt. But the truth was there in her eyes—clear, unflinching, and bitter.

Naomi wouldn’t lie about this.

And she loved Noah. She’d never said it aloud, but it was written in the way she looked at him when she thought no one was watching.

For her to see him with Dora...

Daniel’s goblet clattered onto the table, wine spilling over the rim in a dark splash. He didn’t bother to wipe it up—he was already moving.

I followed, ignoring the heat of Claire’s glare on my back. The women’s murmurs followed us into the hall like a trail of smoke.

Before I was fully out the door, I caught Claire’s hiss: "I’ll deal with that little slut myself."

The cool air of the corridor hit my face, but it did nothing to ease the heat building inside me.

When I caught up to Daniel outside the hall, he was already in motion—his fist gripping Noah’s collar, shoving him back. Dora stood between them, arms crossed, her mouth curved in the faintest smile.

The sight twisted something inside me.

I stepped forward, prying Daniel’s hand off Noah and shoving my younger brother back hard enough that he staggered. My palm stayed against his chest, the urge to throw him against the wall almost overwhelming.

"Stop smiling," I snapped at Dora. "Do you enjoy seeing us fight? Is that the point of this?"

Her eyes glittered with a challenge. "You three are the ones competing for my attention. I’m innocent in this."

My jaw tightened until it ached.

But then her gaze slid past me, and something in her expression softened.

Naomi was there, frozen in place, her face pale and tight.

"I’m sorry," Dora said, voice quieter now. And then, she turned and walked away.

Naomi said nothing. She rather stared at Dora as the latter walked farther away from us.

Daniel muttered a curse, and Naomi’s voice came up, brittle and sharp. "You’re all pathetic."

Then she left too, in the company of Claire.

I watched her retreating back for a moment longer, then became aware of the other presence in the space.

My father. When had he come? How long has he been watching?

He stood a short distance away, arms folded, eyes fixed on us like we were pups who’d just made a mess on the floor.

"Inside," he said, when he was sure we knew of his presence.

No one argued.

We followed him into one of the smaller private chambers. The door shut behind us with a solid click. The silence that followed was worse than shouting.

"You’ve made fools of yourselves," my father said finally, his voice low but cutting. "All of you. Over one girl."

"She’s not just—" Daniel began, but the King silenced him with a single look.

"I don’t care what she is to you. I care what she can be for the kingdom. And I care that you understand me clearly: one of you will have her. By any means necessary."

The words seemed to thicken the air.

"Whoever succeeds," he continued, "will not just win her. You will win my throne. You will rule this kingdom, and the allied realms beyond it."

Daniel inhaled sharply. Noah’s jaw worked.

I kept my face still, but inside, something shifted. This wasn’t just about her anymore. This was war. What was my father doing?

"She’s dangerous as she is," my father went on. "Wild. Unbound. Turning courts upside down with her words. That ends. She will be claimed. She will be controlled. Do you understand me?"

We all nodded, but I knew none of us fully agreed with the "controlled" part.

My father’s gaze swept over us again, sharp enough to draw blood. "Win her loyalty—or her obedience. I don’t care which. But if she remains free, she will become a problem none of you can solve."

He turned then and left, his footsteps fading until the silence between us was suffocating.

Daniel broke it first. "If either of you think I’m stepping aside, think again."

"You’ve already lost," Noah shot back. "She came to me."

"She kissed you?" Daniel demanded. "Or did you kiss her?"

Noah’s smirk was answer enough for me.

My hands curled into fists. "You’re both idiots if you think she’ll be won with parlor tricks and stolen kisses. She’s not prey to be cornered."

Daniel gave me a mocking look. "You sound like you care."

I met his eyes without blinking. "Maybe I do."

The tension between us was thick enough to taste. The unspoken truth hung in the air—we weren’t just brothers anymore. We were rivals.

And the prize was everything.

When they were gone, I stayed behind.

The chamber felt different without them—quieter, yes, but the air still pulsed with the heat of the words we’d exchanged. I leaned back against the heavy oak table, palms flat against its scarred surface, and let my thoughts sharpen like the edge of a blade.

They thought this was about desire.

It wasn’t.

It was about power.

Dora didn’t know it yet, but she was the key that could open—or lock—doors none of us had dared to touch. The Queen already wanted her. My father wanted her. The court was beginning to murmur her name like it was a prayer or a curse.

I wanted her too—but not just to want her.

I wanted her bound to me, not in chains, but in something stronger. Trust. Need. The kind of tie that no decree, no threat, could break.

The trouble was, she didn’t trust anyone. I’d seen it in her eyes. Every smile she gave was measured, every word chosen with precision. She was always calculating her escape.

Which meant winning her wouldn’t be a chase—it would be a siege.

I poured myself more wine and stared into the deep red, letting the firelight spark off its surface. Noah would try charm, the boyish grin he thought could melt stone. Daniel would try dominance, the weight of command that had worked on countless others.

But neither of them understood her like I did.

She’d stand against power if she thought it was unjust. She’d laugh at sweet lies meant to seduce her.

No—if I was going to win this, I’d have to give her something no one else could.

Not control.

Not honeyed words.

But the truth.

Yet... what is the truth that can unravel the mystery that was Dora?

How do I offer it?