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POV Lio

Everyone was gathered in the palace’s entrance courtyard, under the cold wind coming from the mountains. I was grateful I remembered to wear my coat and slipped my hands into the pockets as I greeted them with a nod.

My gaze went directly to Balthazar at the other end, next to his father. He was looking at me but quickly averted his eyes, assuming a cold and distant posture. It hurt my soul. I wanted to scream that he was engaged and couldn’t expect anything from me. But I just stood there, irritated and more nervous than I had anticipated.

Calíope and Caliban were silent, restrained. The Draganov’s arrived shortly after, Alexandar giving me a warm, penetrating look. I remembered the kisses and embraces, how they almost killed each other. My emotions were becoming more unstable.

Kassandra stood between him and Dimitar, wearing a white velvet robe over her dress, an ice goddess indifferent to everything. She seemed lost in thought, far away. She and Balthazar didn’t even stay side by side.

Blood servants waited further ahead, dressed in black uniforms. Three judges flanked the Severus, occasionally whispering. It felt more like a funeral than anything else.

Unable to control myself, I took another discreet glance at Balthazar. Beautiful, elegant in a black suit with the same-colored coat, his dark blonde hair slicked back with a slight pompadour. I longed to run my fingers through his hair, to kiss his lips. I missed everything.

My heart squeezed, and I felt lost. I was afraid of leaving the next day and never seeing him again. Of leaving behind such an important and new part of me. I would never be the same without him. The pain was unrelenting.

I heard the sound of tires, and my attention focused on the luxurious black car arriving, a Rolls Royce with dark windows, which stopped right in front of the courtyard.

One of the servants stepped forward and opened the back door. A tall, handsome man stepped out, his blonde beard well-trimmed, matching the same-colored hair. Dressed in a charcoal gray suit and coat. I immediately recognized him as the vampire from North America who had attended the Alliance Party with Balthazar and Calíope.

“Thorn Ravencrest, from the Ravencrest Clan in Oregon, USA,” announced one of the gray-haired judges, in a long black robe, full of pomp.

He approached the hosts first, greeting Antares and Celestia politely, then gripping Balthazar’s hand more firmly. He said in a deep voice:

“Good to see you.”

He seemed to want to convey something with his gaze. Support, friendship.

“I feel the same, Thorn,” Balthazar replied quietly, standing straight.

Calíope broke into a big smile when she saw him, and they embraced warmly. Then she merely nodded at the younger one, as she did with the Draganov’s. When he stopped near me, I was struck by his masculine, elegant beauty. Vampires truly had a distinct allure.

“Lioara, finally, we are properly introduced. It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

I shook his hand, and one of the judges stepped forward to accompany him inside. Then I understood the dynamic. The clan leaders would arrive and be taken to the Temple.

That’s why Antares had asked me to be present. To prove that I didn’t have anything to hide that they didn’t already know. So they could see me as an invited guest, not a threat.

The rest came in order, as if everyone knew their schedules and arrived punctually. Well-organized, cold, masters of their worlds. Obeying the rules.

Always a Rolls Royce, showing power and wealth. It would stop in front, a servant would open the door, the car would move on. The representative would be announced, sometimes the leader, other times one of the pure members of the clan. Then they would first greet the Severus, then the Draganov, and me. Then a judge would take them.

I became very curious, knowing that we wolves would never be so restrained and precise like this.

The next one was announced as Yuze Kuang, from the Kuang Clan in Huangshan, China. I remembered a conversation with Calíope, where she said her fiancé was from China and they had never met in person. Finally, it was happening, and I watched them.

The vampire was incredibly attractive. Tall, with broad shoulders, strong in a lean way. Thick, black hair, with slanted dark eyes. Pale skin, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie.

Calíope eyed him openly, seemingly satisfied. But he was very cold and distant, merely nodding his head at her, without saying a word. Just like with everyone, before entering the palace.

Was he mute? Or just unfriendly? I felt sorry for her, as she closed off again.

Then, others came:

Mordric Nocturne, leader of the clan from Canada. Graying, attractive, with a posture so straight I didn’t know how he could breathe, all stiff.

Viktor Romanov, from the Russian clan. Also with white hair, very pale eyes under black eyebrows, the current leader.

Court Kieran, strong and big, with thick white hair. From the Scottish clan, he wore a kilt and boots, a heavy coat with a vest. He was as cold as the others, and I was surprised to learn he was Celestia’s father. They didn’t even embrace.

Mika Q'al Skaigan, from Haida Gwaii Island, USA. Skaigan Clan. He was a huge, incredibly handsome indigenous man, with dark hair down to the middle of his back, mixed with braids. Medium reddish-brown skin, leather and fur clothes, braided boots. I had never seen an indigenous person in person, and I was amazed.

Sizwe Akunda, from South Africa. He looked like an African warrior, with black skin, like his eyes and hair. Huge, with strong arms, wearing a blue robe with painted designs. Pants and boots. Gold necklaces and rings. Really beautiful.

Farouk El-Sharif, from the Cairo clan, Egypt. He wore a thobe, a long, loose white tunic, with a checkered scarf tied to his head with a black rope. I no longer knew who was the most attractive; it seemed like a high-end male model parade. He was all dark-skinned, big, with piercing dark eyes.

Dante Vilar, from the Vilar clan in Brazil. Outrageously sensual and attractive, with a suit that highlighted a perfectly sculpted body, angular face, arrogant nose.

Sébastien De La Nuit, from the Caribbean Clan, Central America. Dark brown skin, tall, with a sexy French accent. Curly hair, eyes almost honey-colored. I sighed because he was too handsome.

I had reached the certainty that there was no pure vampire who was common or simple.

Lachlan Eyron, from the Australian clan. I almost rolled my eyes at the spectacular vampire, with abundant golden hair, just like his skin. He looked like a lion.

Finally, it was over. The thirteen clans were there—three from Europe, three from North America, one from Central America, one from South America, two from Asia, two from Africa, and one from Oceania.

Each of them passed by me, greeted me, observed me, before entering. None of them asked anything or seemed surprised by a wolf among so many vampires. I wondered what my father would say if he were there.

Then, Celestia approached me, gently.

“Shall we have dinner while the meeting takes place?”

Calíope and Kassandra were behind her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat anything, being so nervous. I couldn’t even stay near Balthazar’s fiancée as if we weren’t in such an awkward situation.

“I’d rather retire now. I’ll come down later.”

“I’ll be in the library, if you want to stay there.”

“Thank you.”

The Severus and Draganov had disappeared, and Balthazar didn’t look at me once.

Feeling a bit anxious about what would happen next, I went to take refuge in my room.