Chapter 45: Tonight is about us

Joffrey marched up the stairs to the throne, a sick grin stretched across his face. He released his date and opened his arms as if to embrace Dorian, but the moment he caught the murderous glint in Dorian’s eyes, he wisely took a step back.

"Fine. No hugs," he chuckled, completely unfazed. "But I must say, cousin, you really went all out. This has to be the most extravagant wedding the North has ever seen."

"Whatever it is you’re planning tonight, Joffrey, end it now," Dorian grounded out, his voice vibrating with barely contained fury. "I will not have you ruining my wedding."

Joffrey splayed a hand over his chest, feigning utter heartbreak. "You think so little of me, cousin. I wouldn’t dream of letting our past history ruin such a marvelous ceremony."

His voice sounded cheerful, but a malicious undercurrent ran through his words, matched by the strange, knowing gleam in his eyes.

He turned slightly, gesturing to the busty she-wolf beside him. "Do you remember Clara? You two fucked a few times back in the day, didn’t you?"

Alyssa almost choked on her drink. Joffrey’s callous, uncouth behavior would never cease to disgust her.

Clara smiled flirtatiously, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she looked at Dorian. "Congratulations to you and your new bride, Alpha Dorian. But I must say, your taste is quite questionable. She doesn’t exactly look like your type."

"You wouldn’t know the first thing about my type, Clara," Dorian muttered, his tone dropping to a deadly, freezing sub-zero. "After all, you’re every shifter’s resident slut; loose, desperate, and always ready to spread your filthy legs for the nearest dick. I wonder how long it will take before Joffrey dumps you for another bitch."

Clara’s smug smile instantly shattered. An embarrassed, angry flush stained her cheeks, and tears burned behind her eyes. Without a single word, she whirled around and stormed off.

Joffrey watched her go, a vicious scowl instantly taking over his face as he stepped up to Dorian.

"You’ve fucking crossed the line, Dorian. Direct your anger at me all you want, but leave Clara out of it."

Dorian’s hand shot out with blinding, predatory speed. Before Joffrey could even blink, Dorian’s fingers wrapped violently around the lapels of his tux, yanking him forward until their faces were barely inches apart.

"I’m going to give you one chance to walk out of here alive," he growled, his eyes flashing an eerie, dominant gold. "I will tolerate a lot of disrespect leveled at me tonight, Joffrey. But utter one more slick word about my wife, and you’re a dead man."

​With a brutal shove, he released Joffrey, settling back onto his throne as if nothing had happened. "Get out of my sight. Go find your slut."

Joffrey’s eyes blazed with pure, unadulterated rage, but he didn’t dare say another word. He violently adjusted his wrinkled jacket, shot a venomous glare at Alyssa, and stormed away into the crowd.

Alyssa clutched her empty glass tightly, her fingers trembling. She hadn’t truly seen Dorian in his most ruthless state before, but the primal rage that had flashed in his eyes just now was enough to strike terror into the heart of the strongest shifter.

Dorian turned back to her, his harsh expression instantly softening as he took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "I’m sorry, my love. Did I scare you?"

She shook her head, offering a soft smile. "You didn’t. Is Joffrey always that awful?"

"Don’t waste your energy worrying about him," Dorian murmured, pressing gentle kisses to each of her fingertips to soothe her.

"Did something happen between the two of you?" Alyssa prodded softly, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Dorian’s expression darkened suddenly. His eyes remained soft as he looked at her, but the temperature in the air around the throne seemed to plummet.

"I don’t mean to pry," Alyssa rushed to add, sensing the sudden tension. "It just seems like there’s some deep, unsettled dispute between you two, and he keeps trying to weaponize it."

Dorian didn’t want to talk about it. Those past years involving him, Joffrey and Elvira were memories he never dwelled on, buried deep within the darkest corners of his mind.

"Forget about Joffrey, little lamb," he said finally, a tight but tender smile replacing the cold look on his face. "Tonight is about us."

He looked down at the empty glass she held. "Would you like another drink?"

"Yes, please," she nodded, ignoring the sudden wave of nausea that rose in her stomach. She assumed it was just the stress of the ceremony.

Dorian signaled a nearby servant, who quickly hurried over with a fresh tray of champagne.

He picked up a glass and handed it to Alyssa. "If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to introduce you to a few of our high-ranking guests now."

Alyssa took a small sip of the fresh champagne and nodded. "I’m ready. As long as Fabian is kept far away from me."

Meanwhile, at the back of the Dome, Samantha and Seth stood in the shadows, their eyes glued to the throne.

"Why is nothing happening?" Seth hissed, his jaw clenched tight. "I thought you said that poison would take effect immediately."

"It’s supposed to," Samantha muttered under her breath, pretending to organize the banquet table as a group of shifters walked past. "It’s a blend of wolfsbane and aconite. It’s supposed to trigger a bloody coughing fit."

"Then why is she sitting there smiling?" Seth growled. "How much did you actually put in the glass?"

​"I only added a few drops! I couldn’t risk her tasting the bitterness and spitting it out."

Seth’s face contorted with cold rage. He violently snatched the glass vial from Samantha’s hand and turned his back to the crowd.

"Cover me," he commanded.

Samantha stepped into his space, using her body to shield him from the view of the guards and guests.

With reckless precision, Seth dumped the entire remaining contents of the vial into a fresh, standalone glass of champagne, shoved the empty vial into his pocket, and set the drink onto a clean serving tray.

"Send it over to her right now," he whispered hoarsely. "We cannot lose this chance, Sam. This is the only time we can strike without suspicion falling on us."

He walked away without looking back, leaving Samantha alone with the tray.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Samantha caught the attention of a young, unsuspecting maid walking past.

"Take this directly to the throne," she ordered smoothly, handing the tray to the girl. "It is a private vintage specifically prepared for the Luna. Do not let anyone else touch it."

"Understood," the maid nodded, immediately heading toward the throne.

Samantha watched her go, her chest tight with dark anticipation.

Back at the throne, Alyssa’s feet were killing her. She had done her best to smile and greet the endless line of pack officials, but the piercing pain from her heels had become unbearable.

She carefully tugged on Dorian’s sleeve to get his attention.

"My feet hurt," she murmured over the roar of the music. "I need to change my shoes. Pandora has my slippers."

"I’ll send for her right now." Dorian’s hand tightened affectionately around her waist as his eyes briefly fogged over with a mind-link.

A second later, his vision cleared, and he smiled down at her. "She’s on her way. She’ll meet you by the corridor and take you there."

"Thank you," Alyssa smiled with immense relief. She stepped off the throne just as Pandora hurried over, holding the silver slippers.

"Are you okay?" Pandora asked quietly, instantly taking her arm.

"Yeah. My feet just really hurt."

"Alright, let’s get you out of the crowd." Pandora clasped her hand, guiding her toward the private restrooms at the back of the Dome.

But they had barely made it halfway across the hall when Anthony suddenly intercepted them, his expression tense.

"You need to come with me right now, Pandora," he said breathlessly. "It’s urgent."

Pandora hesitated, her eyes clouding with concern. "Can it wait? I’m taking Alyssa to the restroom."

"Oh, go ahead. I’ll be fine," Alyssa interjected quickly, not wanting to delay them if it was pack business. "You can just meet me when you’re done."

"Are you sure?" Pandora asked, glancing around the crowded room. "I don’t want you to be alone."

"It’s fine, Pandora. It’s just a restroom. I’ll be fine by myself."

Pandora gave her a soft nod. "Alright. I’ll come back quickly."

They parted ways. Pandora hurried off with Anthony, while Alyssa walked the remaining distance to the restrooms alone.

The door clicked shut behind her, cutting off the deafening noise of the wedding reception. Relieved by the sudden silence, Alyssa took a deep breath and started walking toward the last stall.

But before she could take a third step, the restroom door was violently slammed open behind her.

Alyssa whirled around, the color instantly draining from her face. Standing directly in front of the exit, blocking her only way out, were Fabian and Melinda.