Evangeline
Three hours have passed, and I am ready for the ball in a black gown. Despite everything seeming to be normal, I feel uneasy.
Why do I feel like something big is going to happen tonight?
The ball is in full swing at the Alpha of Alphas’ castle. My heart is in my mouth when I set sight on that dark stone castle. Even with the lights and the music, it still feels ominous. Like a predator trying to lure its prey.
“Evangeline. Focus,” Grandmother Philomena hisses, swatting my wrist.
I blink and put a slight smile on my face as we walk through the entrance. Yet the more I see of this castle and the people here, the more out of place I feel.
“Alpha Aeron, Lady Philomena, Alpha Sinclair, welcome,” the Supreme Alpha’s Gamma says, bowing his head to the three.
“Hello, Wallace,” Grandmother Philomena replies. “I have brought… a guest with me.”
She motions to me, and the Gamma looks at me curiously, his eyes instantly trailing over me.
“Ah, of course,” he says before stepping aside and letting us pass.
A guest? She said I’ll be going as her assistant.
How strange.
The next hour passes in a blur, and Alpha Aeron and Sinclair have vanished from sight. I am stuck with Grandmother Philomena as she meets and makes small talk with all the important people here.
My! She must have an excellent memory to recall who is who. I, of course, was made to learn the names of all the important ranked werewolves of every allied pack, but I still don’t recognize half of them. Silence befalls the entire room when the announcer steps forward. Everyone's attention turns to him.
“Announcing the presence of the Alpha of Alphas! Alpha King Ambrose Vilkas and his Queen Danciana Vilkas of the Moonstone Pack!”
The entire Court watches in silence as the double doors at the top of the large winding staircase open. My heart is racing in excitement and fear. This man is the most powerful of all alphas, our King, and I am about to see him.
The moment the royal couple steps out, everyone lowers their heads, and I quickly follow suit, despite trying to peek through my hair at the tall, burly man in a suit, which strains on his arms. His cold eyes scan the room, and my heart thuds when his gaze snaps to me, and I quickly duck my head.
When they make their way fully down the steps, we all rise, and I steal a glance at the Luna. Tall, elegant, and with a strong aura, she is stunning with blond hair and large blue eyes.
“Alpha Prince Chasyn Vilkas and his Luna Maryka Vilkas!”
“Alpha Prince Alcazer Vilkas and his Luna Odette Huntington!”
I peer up, staring at Celia’s sister. She is as beautiful, if not more than Celia, but she has a haughty look that isn't so different from her sister’s.
For the princes, everyone simply lowers their heads politely for a moment. Once they ascend, the next prince is announced.
“Alpha Prince Jeremiah Vilkas!”
I look up curiously, Jeremiah? But he is the Fourth Prince…
“Alpha Prince Ragnar Vilkas!”
Luna Danciana has four sons, Chasyn, Alcazer, Jeremiah, and Ragnar.
“Alpha Princes Drystan and Draven Vilkas!”
I peer up as the twins step out. The Sixth and Seventh Princes were born to an omega, the only omega who was able to birth the Alpha’s heirs, but in the process, she died. My stomach twists at just the thought of something like that happening.
Once they reach the bottom, I see Supreme Alpha Ambrose frown as he looks to his sons, conversing between the mind-link.
All the princes are absolutely handsome, oozing power and an elegance one could only wish to attain. Each one of them dressed smartly in a tuxes.
The doors at the top shut, and I realize the Third Prince will not make an appearance, but I am sure most are relieved. He is a monster. No one even knew who or what his mother was, but the rumor is, he isn't “normal”.
“Thank you, everyone, for” Alpha Ambrose is cut off when the doors at the top of the stairs swing open, banging off the walls, making everyone flinch at the sound. I'm hit with a wave of power that rolls through the ballroom.
He is taller than the rest, and the power surrounding him is far stronger. He is wearing black pants and a button-down shirt with a few buttons left open, and his sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, showing off a tattoo along his left arm.
Even when dressed more casually than every other male here, he still makes a far louder statement. No, he does more than that; he instills fear. Even the way he walks is intimidating, with calculated steps. Yet, he still manages to walk with grace, shoulder’s back, and head held high. This man doesn’t win respect; he demands it.
Every fiber of my being wants me to run from the moment I lay eyes on him. However, as he stalks into the room, my feet are rooted to the floor.
My heart begins to race, and it isn't because of how handsome the dark-skinned man before me is, not his chiseled jaw, full lips, or those cold gold-green eyes, but because I recognize him.
“An-announcing-” the announcer stutters, only to be cut off.
“Zedkiel Vilkas,” the Third Prince says in his deep, sinister voice. His tone almost dares anyone to challenge him. Even his siblings dare not stare too long. And those foolish enough to, quickly avert their gaze when his eyes fall on them. As he comes closer, descending, everyone is quick to drop their gaze.
Glimpses of fragmented memories I’m not sure are mine flash before my eyes. Cold, malicious, gold-green eyes staring at me. The smell of blood and cold dread washes through me.
Fear envelops me, and I feel ice-cold as I stare at the man who walks down the stairs, oozing dominance and power. His eyes sweep the room, and I know I should drop my gaze, but I am paralyzed in fear. My hands tremble, and my breathing halts when his eyes meet mine. I am like a deer caught in the headlights.
Cold indifference sets on his face, and he quirks a brow, yet I can't break my gaze. His lips twitch as he turns his gaze away, striding through the ballroom. His aura is menacing, and the room is so silent you can hear a pin drop.
He is the man who stars in and haunts my nightmares.
“Evangeline!” Grandmother Philomena hisses as she stomps my foot, yanking me from my thoughts.
I blink and stare at her for a second before looking around the room fearfully at the broad back of Zedkiel Vilkas.
No one talks to him. Everyone lowers their heads to him as he passes by and he doesn't even bother paying respect to his father. He takes a glass of alcohol from a tray as he passes, downing it in one gulp.
“Did you forget your manners, child!” Grandmother mutters, her grip on my arm painfully tight, bringing tears to my eyes as she digs in her nails.
“Y-you’re… it hurts," I whimper. Her stern gaze is filled with obvious irritation before she lets go. I resist the urge to rub my arm. “I’m sorry. I just…” I give up trying to explain through the stutter I seem to have developed.
I can't express how or what he makes me feel. It would be an insult to the royal family, and everyone nearby would hear it if I told her here.
“No excuses. Are you trying to embarrass us?" she mutters, casting a glance around.
“I'm sorry." I lower my head to her, but my mind is churning with thoughts despite my apology.
The man from my nightmares is surely him. Is it the future? A premonition of some sort?
Our clothing in the dreams was strange. I was wearing a heavy ball dress, much like those of the past, and he was wearing a tunic and leather pants. The only difference was that the Prince had short hair, and the man in my nightmares had longer hair.
A cold shiver runs down my spine, and I shudder as I look at the man standing against one of the far walls. No one approaches him, and the tension surrounding him seems to ripple violently around the room.
Some instinct tells me to hide from his gaze. Maybe if I lay low, we may never have to see one another again!