Celine and Leon shared a private table—lavish, indulgent, and set apart from the polished rituals of courtly display.
Silver platters steamed with delicacies she couldn’t name. Crystal glasses shimmered beside tightly folded linens. Every detail—every dish, every flicker of flame—was curated for elegance, excess.
Silver platters steamed with delicacies, and crystal glasses shimmered beside folded linens.
It should have been peaceful.
It felt wrong.
Celine sat stiffly in her chair, her fingers brushing the edge of her spoon. She wasn’t hungry, though her body ached with the wear of the day. Leon had said something about hunting tomorrow, about requesting an earlier audience with the King again—but his words drifted, muffled.
Because something inside her was growling.
Not loud. Not physical.
It was Lyra.
Her wolf, usually calm, coiled and restless, suddenly snarled against the back of Celine’s mind.
Not this.
Don’t eat it.
Something’s wrong.
Celine’s breath hitched. She stared down at the plate before her—a simple roasted dish, nothing exotic. But her hand wouldn’t move. Her throat had already closed.
Leon noticed immediately.
He put down his knife. “What is it?”
Celine’s voice was quiet. “Lyra… she doesn’t want me to eat it.”
He frowned. “The meat?”
“The whole thing.”
His eyes sharpened.
Without another word, Leon stood. He moved like a predator across the room, signaling the nearest attendant. The servant paused, startled, as Leon took the untouched plate and held it out.
“This. Send it to be tested.”
“Alpha, I—”
“Now.”
The servant nodded, pale, and hurried from the room with the dish still steaming.
Leon returned to her side, kneeling beside her chair, his hand brushing her arm.
“You’re sure?”
“She’s never done this before,” Celine whispered. “Not like this.”
Leon’s eyes darkened. “Then we don’t ignore it.”
He didn’t look away from the food. “You think it was tampered with?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t a mistake.”
Leon leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Someone meant for you to eat that.”
Neither of them said what they were thinking, but each one knew.
Leon’s voice was quiet but firm. “I’ll have it tested.”
“And if it is what we think?” Celine asked.
His expression darkened. “Then I’ll find out who gave it to you and kill them.”