Chapter 3

The formal introduction ceremony began with all the ancient protocols our pack had maintained for centuries. Alpha Sincere stepped forward, his chest puffed with the kind of pride that came from hosting werewolf royalty. Rosalie clung to his arm like a golden ornament, her smile so bright it could have powered the entire pack house.

"Your Highness," Sincere said, offering a respectful bow that still managed to convey his own importance. "Welcome to the Silvermoon Pack. May I present my chosen mate, Rosalie Butler."

Rosalie curtsied with practiced grace, her voice honey-sweet as she spoke. "The honor is ours, Prince Kayson. We're thrilled to host such distinguished royalty."

I stood with the other pack members in the formal receiving line, my hands clasped in front of me as I waited my turn. Protocol demanded that every adult member of the pack be formally introduced to visiting royalty, even those of us who preferred to remain invisible.

Prince Kayson moved through the line with quiet dignity, offering each person a moment of genuine attention. His voice was warm but measured, his handshake firm but never dominating. Everything about him radiated the kind of natural authority that didn't need to prove itself.

When he reached the woman ahead of me, my heart began to race. I tried to school my expression into the same neutral politeness I'd perfected over the years, but Willow was practically vibrating with anticipation in my mind.

*Steady,* I told her silently. *Don't get your hopes up.*

But she ignored me completely, her voice singing with joy. *He's coming, sister. Our true mate is finally coming to us.*

Then he was there, standing directly in front of me, and the world narrowed to just this moment, this breath, this heartbeat.

"Your Highness," I said softly, offering a respectful curtsy. "I'm Christina Reed."

"The pleasure is mine, Luna Christina," he replied, and his voice sent shivers down my spine. There was something in the way he said my name, as if he'd been waiting years to speak it aloud.

He extended his hand for the traditional greeting, and I placed mine in his without thinking. The moment our skin touched, lightning struck.

The contact sent such a powerful surge of recognition through me that I gasped audibly, my eyes flying wide. Every nerve ending in my body came alive, singing with a connection so pure and overwhelming it made my knees buckle. This wasn't the forced, toxic bond I shared with Sincere—this was what the Moon Goddess had intended. This was home.

Kayson's fingers tightened around mine, his own breath catching as the same recognition flooded through him. His storm-blue eyes darkened with an intensity that made my heart race, and I saw my own wonder reflected in his gaze.

"I—" I started to speak, but the words died in my throat. The entire pack was watching, including Sincere and Rosalie, and I could feel their curious stares boring into us.

I pulled my hand back abruptly, the loss of contact making me feel cold and empty. "Excuse me," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I need some air."

I turned and fled, pushing through the crowd with as much dignity as I could manage while my entire world tilted on its axis. Behind me, I heard Rosalie's tinkling laugh and some comment about the stress of hosting royalty, but the words felt distant and unimportant.

My feet carried me automatically to the greenhouse, the one place where I could think clearly. I pushed through the glass door and collapsed onto the small wooden bench I kept among the herbs, my hands shaking as I tried to process what had just happened.

Willow was ecstatic in my mind, her voice stronger than it had been in years. *Did you feel it? Did you feel how right it was? That's what a true mate bond feels like, Christina. That's what we've been denied all these years.*

"It doesn't matter," I whispered to the moonlit plants around me. "I'm already mated. The bond with Sincere—"

*Is poison,* Willow interrupted fiercely. *That's not a real bond, sister. It's a chain, a curse. What we just felt—that was the Moon Goddess herself telling us we belong with him.*

I pressed my hands to my face, overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions flooding through me. Hope, longing, despair, and a desperate kind of yearning that made my chest ache.

That's when I heard footsteps on the gravel path outside. Slow, deliberate, and heading directly for the greenhouse.

The door opened quietly, and Prince Kayson stepped inside, his tall frame filling the doorway. In the moonlight streaming through the glass panels, he looked like something out of a fairy tale—powerful, noble, and impossibly beautiful.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, starting to rise from the bench. "I shouldn't have run off like that. It was disrespectful to—"

"Christina." His voice was gentle but firm, stopping my rambling apology. "Please. Don't apologize. Not for this."

He moved closer, and I caught his scent—sandalwood and ocean mist, clean and calming, so different from Sincere's overwhelming pine and smoke. It made me want to breathe deeper, to lose myself in the peace it promised.

"You felt it too," he said softly, and it wasn't a question.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"I need you to know something," he continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "I've known you were my true fated mate for years."