The Lycan Capital rose from the horizon like something pulled from a dream—vast, gleaming, and ancient. Carved into the mountains and wrapped in mist, the palace crowned the city like a blade kissed by moonlight. White stone towers pierced the clouds. Balconies lined with silver railings shimmered in the early light. Statues of old kings and forgotten wolves stood guard over marble streets worn smooth by centuries.
Celine leaned out of the carriage window as they rolled past the city gates, silver eyes wide.
“Gods,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”
The capital smelled different—cleaner somehow, but also colder. Less earth. Less pine. No firewood or forge smoke. Just perfume, polished stone, and power.
She was halfway to pressing her face against the glass when she noticed Leon wasn’t looking out.
He was sitting back in the seat, arms crossed, jaw tight.
“You’re not impressed?” she asked gently.
He said nothing for a beat. Then, “No.”
She tilted her head. “Because it’s royal?”
“No,” he muttered. “Because it’s hollow.”
Celine blinked.
Leon finally looked at her. “All this gold, all this marble, and not a single scent of real life. No warriors training. No families in the streets. No one laughing. Just people performing status.”
He glanced back toward the city. “This place doesn’t breathe. It poses.”
Celine studied him for a moment—his narrowed eyes, his clenched jaw. He wasn’t just suspicious. He was bothered. And she knew why. This wasn’t just the Capital. It was the world that had always said he didn’t belong.
She scooted closer to him in the carriage, then without asking, climbed right into his lap. Arms wrapped around his neck, chest pressed to his, she buried her face against his shoulder.
Leon froze for half a second—then his arms came around her like iron.
“You okay?” he asked, voice quieter.
“I’m your wife,” she whispered. “We’re not in their world. They’re in ours. And nothing they show me here—none of the gold or titles or empty flattery—will ever change that.”
Leon’s breath hitched against her skin.
His hand curled around her waist. “Say it again.”
She pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “I’m your wife.”
“And you love me?”
She kissed him. Slow. Firm. “Until my last breath.”