Chapter 3: Face to Face with the Beast

Olivia’s POV

​The walk down the hallway felt much longer than it probably was. The maid stayed a few steps ahead of me, walking quickly with her head lowered, while I struggled behind her, trying not to trip over the ridiculous amount of fabric gathered around my legs.

​I kept my hands clasped tightly in front of my stomach, repeating my instructions like a prayer. Don’t talk too much. Don’t look around too much. Don’t do anything Annabel wouldn’t do. Beta Levi’s warnings had been running through my head since we arrived in Full Moon territory.

​Annabel had always been quiet and reserved. Tonight, I had to become her completely. One mistake could expose me.

​I reached for my wolf again, searching the dark, quiet corners of my mind. Please. I could really use you right now.

​Nothing. Only the same cold, heavy silence that had lived inside my chest for four long years. Of all the days she could have chosen to return, today clearly wasn’t going to be one of them.

​I swallowed against the dryness in my throat and forced myself to keep moving.

​The maid finally stopped in front of a pair of massive wooden doors guarded by two towering guards. Neither soldier looked at me; they stood like frozen statues, their broad shoulders blocking the hallway.

​"We’re here, Princess," the maid whispered, her face pale as she turned to face me.

​My stomach dropped into a cold pit. She knocked twice, the sound echoing down the corridor. There was a short, agonizing silence before a deep man’s voice came from the other side.

​"Come in."

​My fingers tightened around my dress.

​That was him.

​Alpha Lucian was on the other side of that door.

​The maid immediately pushed the heavy door open and stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter alone. I stared at her in brief panic, realizing she wasn’t coming with me. I took a slow breath, stepped over the threshold, and heard the heavy door click firmly shut behind me.

​For a second, I simply stood near the entrance, frozen. The study was large and dimly lit, with tall bookshelves covering the walls and a fire burning quietly in the stone fireplace. A huge desk stood near the windows, papers scattered across its surface.

​Standing behind that desk was Alpha Lucian.

​The man whose army had slaughtered hundreds of our people. The man who believed I was the spoiled daughter of his sworn enemy.

​He was reading a document in his hands and didn’t even look up when I entered.

​I remained near the door, my hands trembling inside my sleeves, entirely unsure of whether I was supposed to speak or remain quiet. Seconds ticked past in agonizing silence, stretching into a full minute. My palms began to sweat beneath the lace of my sleeves.

Was he deliberately ignoring me to break my spirit?

Or was I supposed to say something?

What did princesses even say to the enemy Alpha they’d just been forced to marry?

Hello, nice to meet you. Please don’t discover I’m actually my own maid.

Probably not.

I glanced up cautiously, and that was my first mistake.

​He was nothing like I had imagined.

​Lucian was huge. Tall, broad, and powerfully built, with the kind of body that made it easy to believe the stories about the men he had killed with his bare hands. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled to his elbows, exposing muscular forearms marked with old scars.

​But it wasn’t his size that frightened me most.

​It was the feeling around him.

​Something dark and dangerous seemed to fill the entire room, pressing against my chest and making it harder to breathe. He wore no crown, no ceremonial robes, nothing that announced him as Alpha.

​He didn’t need them.

​Everything about him screamed power.

​I quickly lowered my gaze back to the floor.

​"Did my guards bring me a bride or a statue?"

​His voice wasn’t raised, yet it made my heart violently jump against my ribs.

​Lucian finally lifted his head, and the moment our eyes met through the thick lace of my veil, I understood why an entire continent feared him. He didn’t look angry. That somehow made it worse. His face gave me absolutely nothing.

​His storm-gray eyes moved over my frame once, assessing me like a piece of livestock, before returning to my hidden face.

​"Come here," he commanded.

​My legs refused to move.

​Lucian’s eyes dropped to my feet before slowly returning to my face.

​"When I give you an order, you obey it."

​I moved immediately. I crossed the room with short, trembling steps until I stood on the opposite side of his heavy desk.

​"Closer."

​My stomach tightened into a painful knot. I forced my feet to walk around the edge of the dark wood until I stopped a few feet away from him.

​Lucian leaned back against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at me. He looked at me with an intensity that made my skin feel like it was burning, and I reflexively lowered my head.

​He pushed himself off the edge of the desk, and I instinctively took a step backward. Lucian stopped for a second, his eyes dropping to the space I had created between us before returning to my face. Then he continued toward me.

​I forced myself to remain where I was this time, even though every survival instinct inside me screamed to turn and run for the door.

​Lucian stopped directly in front of me, so close that his suffocating scent flooded my senses.

​His gaze dropped lower, tracking the frantic beat of the pulse in my neck, before he slowly leaned in and inhaled.

​My blood turned to ice. Every wolf knew that fear carried a distinct scent, but as Lucian drew back, his expression hardened in a way that made my breath stop entirely. His eyes narrowed.

​"Where is she?" he asked softly.

​My lips parted in terror. "Who?"

​"Your wolf."

​My heart slammed against my ribs. Lucian watched my reaction with terrifying focus, his face completely unreadable.

​"I can’t sense her," he said, tilting his head slightly. "A royal princess of the Blood Moon line should radiate power, even when quiet. Yet I feel nothing from you."

Think, Olivia.

Think.

​"She hasn’t been herself since the war," I finally managed to stammer, desperate to fill the silence. "The war affected her," I rushed out. "After everything that happened... after the wall fell and your warriors attacked... she became withdrawn. Sometimes I barely feel her myself."

​I knew I needed to shut my mouth, but the fear of his quiet judgment was driving me wild. Lucian’s face remained entirely unchanged. He didn’t show sympathy for the war, nor did he show guilt. He simply absorbed my words like a judge reviewing a useless defense.

​"Not my problem," he said quietly.

​I blinked behind my veil, surprised. That was it?

​He turned away from me and walked back toward his desk, picking up a heavy crystal glass filled with dark amber liquid. My lungs finally worked again, and I released the tiny breath I had been holding. Maybe he accepted the excuse. Maybe he actually believed I was Annabel.

​"Take off the veil," he ordered, his voice dropping into a flat, authoritative command.

​My hands went completely numb. "Alpha—"

​His eyes hardened.

​"Now."

​My hands rose to my head, but my fingers were trembling so violently that I couldn’t find the edge of the heavy lace. I fumbled with the fabric, panic making my movements clumsy. Before I could manage it, Lucian took two swift steps forward and closed the distance between us.

​"Enough."

​Before I could react, he caught the veil himself and ripped it away from my face.

​The cool air of the room hit my bare skin, and I instinctively lowered my gaze, terrified of what would happen next. This was the moment I had been dreading. The real Princess Annabel and I were similar enough in height and build for the deception to work from a distance, but standing inches away from an Alpha...

​"Look at me."

​I couldn’t.

​His fingers suddenly closed around my chin.

​A gasp escaped me as he forced my face upward.

​His piercing gray eyes met mine, and everything inside me stopped. Lucian didn’t speak. He simply stared, his harsh, cold gaze moving across my face with brutal scrutiny. He studied the shape of my eyes, the line of my nose, and the tremble of my lips. I waited for the sudden flare of recognition, for the explosion of rage when he realized I wasn’t the royal daughter he had been promised, for him to scream for his guards to drag me to the dungeons.

​Instead, his expression remained entirely unreadable.

​"You look just as fragile as your pathetic father."

​Relief hit me so hard that my knees almost gave out. For perhaps the first time in my life, being insulted felt wonderful.

​He believed me.

​He believed I was Annabel.

​But before I could even breathe properly, Lucian stepped closer. His eyes traveled slowly down my wedding dress before returning to my face.

​"Undress."