Chapter 16: First Dance

Conan rose from his seat, his black eyes finally finding Hazel’s for the first time since their brief exchange at the door.

He extended his hand.

Hazel inhaled. The crowd was watching. Hundreds of eyes, some curious, some hostile, all pinned on her. She forced herself to stand, her legs feeling like they were made of water, and placed her trembling gloved hand in his.

His fingers curled around hers, and he led her to the center of the polished floor. The music swelled into something soft and slow, and Conan’s hand moved to her waist, pulling her gently into his orbit.

Hazel kept her eyes fixed on the silver embroidery on his collar, refusing to meet his gaze once again. She followed his lead, her steps clumsy at first, but the rhythm of the song seemed to guide her, and soon she was moving with him, their bodies swaying in a slow dance.

Where did you go? Why did you leave me? What are you hiding?

The questions swirled in her mind, but she couldn’t bring herself to give them shape. She could feel the heat of his palm against her back, the strength in his arm as he guided her, but it meant nothing if he was going to leave her alone in the dark.

"Look at me."

His voice was a husky murmur, almost overpowered by the music.

Hazel shook her head. "I’d rather not."

"Look at me, Hazel."

Damn it.

Slowly, reluctantly, she lifted her head, and their eyes locked.

The world seemed to still around them and the music faded to a distant hum. His eyes held hers firmly, before they snaked down.

They darted to her lips, lingering there for a long, charged moment, before moving up again.

Hazel, feeling her skin heat from the intensity of his gaze, tore her eyes away, breaking the spell.

Conan’s jaw clenched but he didn’t say a word.

Her mind spun, the thoughts a vicious, spiraling storm. She hated this. She hated the uncertainty, the feeling of being at the mercy of a man she didn’t fully understand. She hated the way her stomach clenched when she thought of him with someone else.

Please calm down, Hazel. You’re his wife now.

But the thought only made it worse.

The music came to a graceful end, and the crowd erupted in polite applause. Conan released her, stepping back with a small bow.

"Thank you everyone for gracing us with your presence today. Your Queen and I are most grateful. Please enjoy yourselves, refreshments will be served now. Thank you," he said, his voice taking on a monotone tone as he addressed his guests.

Afterwards, he whispered into her ear. "I’ll be back."

He didn’t wait for her response.

He turned and walked away, his long strides carrying him across the ballroom floor, straight toward the elevated table where his mother sat.

Oh.

Hazel watched as he approached Aurora, as he leaned down to speak to her, his posture tense. Rosie, the black-haired Lycan from two days ago, was seated beside Aurora, a smug smile plastered across her face as she also engaged in conversation with Conan.

She felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

He went to them. He left me alone for them.

She forced a smile onto her face, her lips trembling as she tried to keep her composure. Servants were moving around, sharing food and refreshments, while the visitors engaged in conversations with themselves, soft music playing in the background.

A few guests approached her, their footsteps betraying their hesitation. They sniffed the air, their noses wrinkling at her markless scent, but they said nothing.

"Your Majesty."

Two young women stood before her, their expressions strangely bright. The one on the left was dark-skinned, and had a mane of fiery red hair, while the other had honey-blonde curls.

"Oh, hello," Hazel managed, her voice strained.

"Hazel!" Becky appeared at her side right on cue, her eyes darting between the two women. "Oh, you’ve met them already? These are my friends, Scarlett and Imogen. They’re both from Bloodmoon."

Scarlett, the redhead, beamed at Hazel. "We just had to come say hello! You’re so beautiful, truly. Everyone’s talking about you."

Imogen nodded enthusiastically. "I agree with Scarlett. You’re so beautiful! We heard what happened to Alpha Rowan. You’re the talk of the entire Lycan world, you know. King Conan being so protective of his wife? Who could have seen that coming?"

Hazel nodded, surprised by their warmth. "Thank you," she said softly. "I appreciate your kind words."

Her gaze unintentionally drifted back to where Conan was still speaking with his mother. His face was dark, his fists clenched at his sides, and even from where she sat, she could tell he was holding himself back from doing something reckless.

She gritted her teeth, a bitter taste coating her tongue.

"Your Majesty? Are you alright?" Scarlett asked, trying to trace the source of Hazel’s discomfort.

"Yes," Hazel forced out, snapping her eyes back. "I’m fine. Thank you for your kindness. Please, enjoy the rest of the party."

The two women exchanged a look, nodded, and melted back into the crowd.

The moment they were gone, Becky moved closer to Hazel, a smile gracing her face. "Heyyy," she said, pulling Hazel into a hug. "How are you? How are things with you and Conan?"

Hazel stiffened in her arms. "I am well. We are well," she said flatly.

Becky pulled back, her face falling at the coldness in Hazel’s voice. "Is something wrong?"

Hazel shook her head. "Why would anything be wrong? Is there something you wanted to tell me?"