CHAPTER 66

Ariana’s POV

My stomach dropped.

Seline.

Her voice rang out, sharp and laced with curiosity. I froze mid-air, panic surging through me. Slowly, I turned my head, locking eyes with her. Her expression twisted with shock, her green eyes wide as they flickered between me and the ground below.

“What…” she breathed, taking a step closer. “What is going on?”

My heart pounded, but I refused to let her see my fear. I forced the power within me to settle, the warmth fading as I lowered myself back to the ground. My feet touched the dirt, but the weight of her gaze remained heavy.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, brushing imaginary dust from my hands. My voice was calm — far calmer than I felt.

Seline's mouth parted like she wanted to say more, but Elara quickly stepped in. “What are you doing here, Seline?” Her tone was sharp, protective. “This is the training ground. You’re not exactly dressed for a spar.”

Seline’s lips curled into a forced smile, though her eyes remained fixed on me. “Damien was looking for his soon-to-be bride,” she said sweetly, though the words dripped with venom. “I took it upon myself to find you.”

Of course she did. She couldn’t wait to slither her way into everything that concerned me.

“I was just finishing up,” I said coolly. “You can let Damien know I’ll see him soon.”

Seline tilted her head, feigning concern. “Ariana… if something’s wrong, it shouldn’t be hidden from Damien. He’ll want to know if…” She trailed off, her gaze flickering toward the sky where I had hovered only moments before. “If you’re dealing with something unnatural.”

My jaw tightened. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m not ‘dealing’ with anything. I just have powers. That’s all.”

Seline blinked, clearly taken aback. “Powers?” She laughed softly, though the tension in her eyes betrayed her. “Ariana, that isn’t an ordinary power a werewolf should have. Werewolves don’t fly.”

“That’s not your concern,” I retorted, trying to remain composed. “Unless you plan on running to Damien about it.”

Her brows lifted, and that familiar look of false innocence settled on her face. She was enjoying this.

"Why would you say that?" she replied sweetly. "I won't tell him if you don't want me to. It's between you and him."

I blinked, slightly taken aback. She won’t?

"You won't?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Seline stepped closer, her hand reaching out to clasp mine. Her touch was soft, too soft, like a carefully practiced act.

"You might be overwhelmed," she said gently, as though her words were dripping with sympathy. "Finding out you have powers like these… it's your choice to tell anyone or not. I understand how it feels to discover something inside you that makes you fear others might see you differently."

I hated how easily she could twist her tone, sounding so understanding. And yet, part of me couldn’t deny that her words held a sliver of truth. This is new. Dangerous even.

Harley's warning echoed in my mind — if care isn’t taken, these powers could destroy me.

But that didn’t mean I trusted Seline. Not for a second.

Slowly, I pulled my hand away from hers, refusing to let her pretend this was anything other than a manipulation.

She didn’t falter. In fact, her smile widened, her green eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"I hope this will make you believe that all I want is to become friends with you," she continued, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Friends keep secrets, right?"

My stomach twisted. Friends keep secrets.

I immediately understood what she meant. This wasn’t some harmless offer of friendship. It was a veiled threat. If I don’t play along, she tells Damien.

She thinks she can control me. She thinks knowing my secret means she has power over me. That I’ll grovel at her feet just to keep her quiet.

But she’s wrong.

Two can play this game.

Forcing a smile, I nodded. "You're right, Seline. Friends keep secrets."

The satisfaction on her face was almost unbearable.

"Good," she purred, stepping back. "I'm so glad we understand each other."

"Completely," I said, my voice dripping with false warmth.

I wasn't foolish enough to believe this little game of hers would end here.

Just as the tension thickened, Elara stepped forward, her expression carefully neutral. "It's time to head back," she announced, her voice calm but firm.

I internally sighed in relief, grateful for the interruption. Seline’s presence was suffocating, and the reminder that Damien wanted to see me wasn’t exactly comforting either — but at least it was an escape.

"Of course," I replied, turning to Elara. "I wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

Seline tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Yes, you wouldn't want that. After all, you're his soon-to-be wife. It's only right to prioritize him."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Naturally."

——

The dining room was draped in its usual air of forced politeness. The long table was lined with golden candleholders, the glow illuminating the carefully crafted dishes that had been served. Damien sat at the head, with Seline obnoxiously close to him, while Sabrina and Vivian chattered away like over excited birds.

Elara sat beside me, noticeably quiet. Sabrina delicately lifted her fork, taking another bite of the roasted vegetables. "The food tastes so different today," she said, her voice lined with exaggerated appreciation. "Delightful, really."

Vivian smiled, eagerly jumping in. "That’s because Seline cooked it all! Isn’t she just wonderful? A true chef in the making."

"Truly," Sabrina nodded, her eyes gleaming. "I can’t believe you know how to cook like this, Seline. How did you learn?"

Seline’s eyes softened, a hint of practiced sorrow seeping into her expression. "My mother taught me," she said softly. "She was a beautiful cook. I spent most of my childhood in the kitchen with her, learning her recipes." She paused, her gaze lowering just enough to draw sympathy. "But she passed away years ago."

"Oh, that’s so sad," Sabrina gasped, her face painted with mock sorrow. "I’m so sorry."

Vivian nodded dramatically. "So sorry, Seline. That must have been so hard."

Seline gave them a faint, appreciative smile, basking in their attention.

I snorted and quickly tried to hide it, but it was too late. Sabrina and Vivian's eyes darted toward me, their brows furrowing in unison.

"What's so funny?" Sabrina’s tone dripped with suspicion.

"Are you mocking Seline?" Vivian added, narrowing her eyes. "We all know you don’t know how to cook. Maybe you’re just jealous."

I clenched my jaw, forcing my amusement into submission. "I’m not mocking anyone," I replied smoothly.

"Oh, please," Vivian scoffed. "The only thing you know how to cook is burnt toast. Or maybe that delightful charcoal stew you made that one time."

Sabrina cackled, clearly enjoying herself. "Exactly! And Damien still wants to marry you?" She turned toward him, her smile too wide. "Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer someone who can actually make you a decent meal? Like Seline, for example?"

Damien didn’t even glance their way. His focus remained on his plate, completely disinterested in their antics.

The lack of reaction didn’t stop them. If anything, it fueled them further.

"Imagine," Vivian went on, giggling. "Coming home to burnt dinners every night. Poor Alpha Damien."

But before I could snap back, Seline’s voice rang out, her tone laced with false concern.

"That’s enough," she said gently, though the satisfaction in her eyes was evident. "You shouldn’t talk to the Alpha like that. We wouldn’t want to cause a misunderstanding, would we?"

She placed a delicate hand over her chest, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Besides, Ariana and I are friends now."

"Exactly," I replied, my tone matching hers. "Friends."

Seline beamed, as if she’d won some invisible game. Then, as if remembering her role as the gracious peacemaker, she turned her attention to Damien.

"I'm sorry, Alpha," she said sweetly, her eyes fluttering innocently. "I didn't mean for any of this to become so uncomfortable."

Damien barely acknowledged her. "It’s fine."

"But," she continued, with a delicate tilt of her head, "I do feel bad. Maybe I can make it up to you, Ariana. I’d be more than happy to teach you how to cook."

"That’s kind of you," I said, my voice steady. "Thank you."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not expecting me to accept so easily. But before she could respond, Damien finally spoke, his voice cutting through the thick air.

"The date has been set." He placed his fork down, his cold gaze locking onto mine. "We’ll be married on the next full moon."

The room fell into silence.

I felt the weight of his words settle over me, but I refused to shrink beneath it. The decision had been made without me. Of course it had. Damien always assumed his word was final.

But not this time. “I am not getting married to you, Damien.”