The banquet hall buzzed with energy, every conversation blending into a low hum of excitement. Tonight was an event of rare magnitude—everyone was here to witness the arrival of the Alpha Prime and his newly announced mate. Nobles, high-ranking officials, and the elite of Moonsand had gathered in their finest attire, adding splashes of luxury to the already opulent room. Chandeliers hung low, their crystal reflections casting delicate patterns across the walls. Silver platters laden with food and goblets brimming with wine circled the room, servers barely keeping up with the flow.
Standing among them was Jason Riven, one of the few remaining members of the human elite, a dwindling lineage ever since a shard of the moon had fallen, altering the balance between humans and supernaturals forever. Werewolves, with their longer lives and greater strength, had only solidified their dominance. Jason couldn't ignore the uncomfortable truth that surrounded him; the wolves here would live three times as long as he would, a privilege his kind would never know. At best, he might reach a hundred if he was fortunate, but that would still leave him decades behind even the youngest werewolf in the room.
Sipping his wine, Jason pretended to be absorbed, masking his unease. He despised that his father had insisted he attend. The Alpha Prime himself, Moonsand's ruler, had been in power for eighty years. Jason recalled the numbers with some discomfort; the Prime was likely nearing a hundred now, though his appearance certainly didn't betray it. Wolves aged with a grace that humans could only envy.
Suddenly, the murmurs in the hall hushed, drawing Jason's gaze toward the grand entrance. The Alpha Prime had arrived, and beside him was a striking woman on his arm, radiating a presence that seemed to match the Alpha's sheer power. She was exactly the sort of formidable beauty one would expect at his side. Jason's eyes couldn't help but trace her figure briefly before he forced himself to look away, mindful that his life wasn't something he wanted to gamble on a poorly timed glance. Wolves were a bloodthirsty lot after all.
As custom dictated, the guests lowered their heads in respect, Jason included. He heard the Alpha Prime say something to the crowd, but only the supernaturals could discern his words from the distance. The rest of the room merely lifted their heads when the wolves did, returning to the rhythm of conversation, though the energy seemed to pulse even stronger now that the Alpha Prime and his mate were present.
Jason returned to his quiet observations, distracted by the sight of another man nearby: Tristan, a tall, formidable figure dressed impeccably in a dark, tailored suit. Jason recognized him as the Prime's beta—likely around ninety years old,too like the alpha Prime despite appearing to be no older than a man in his thirties. Jason was unable to suppress a flash of envy at how well werewolves aged. At fifty, he could already feel time wearing on him, but to the beta, time was little more than a passing notion.
Tristan's gaze was fixed across the room on a slender man with angelic features. The young man had golden curls and was dressed in a light peach shirt and white trousers, a glass of wine poised elegantly in his hand as he smiled at someone approaching him. There was an undeniable tension in Tristan's posture—the clench of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes unmistakable. Jason couldn't help but smirk a little at the sight. Same-sex relationships were rare among wolves due to their natural drive for offspring, but they weren't entirely unheard of. His wife would find the story of this particular exchange endlessly entertaining.
Just then, the Alpha Prime and his mate entered Jason's line of sight, approaching him. The Prime's gaze was penetrating, an aura of dominance radiating from him that Jason felt as a physical weight, like being forced to stand beneath the gaze of a predator. He bowed slightly, forcing himself to breathe steadily as the Alpha Prime's gaze pinned him.
"My little flame," the Alpha Prime murmured, a quiet affection in his voice as he introduced Jason, "this is Riven."
The woman's gaze landed on him, unblinking, assessing. "A human," she said, her curiosity almost predatory. Her green eyes held a power that was impossible to ignore. At 5'7, Jason was acutely aware of how small he seemed in their presence, both of them towering over him with a presence as suffocating as it was magnetic.
"Yes," the Alpha Prime continued, as though her observation were a matter of record, "the Rivens helped build Moonsand alongside the Grimlocks. They are long-standing business partners of ours in several ventures." Jason nodded, feeling her keen eyes taking in that information, as if evaluating the worth of his family's legacy right there on the spot.
"It's an honor to meet you," she said, her voice smooth, but Jason could hear the unspoken weight behind her words.
"Jason," he managed, giving his name with an awkward smile. "Jason Riven."
"Not Victor?" the Prime questioned, frowning slightly.
"Oh—uh, Victor is my father," Jason clarified, trying to keep the conversation steady.
"Ah," the Prime said, his tone a touch regretful. "I forget sometimes, with the difference in lifespan." The reminder was not lost on Jason, who could only nod, feeling uncomfortably aware of his mortality.
"Well, Jason, this is my mate, Ember." The Alpha Prime's introduction was brief but filled with warmth as he looked to her, a smile softening his usual stoic expression.
Ember extended her hand, and Jason took it, feeling the firmness of her grip before they moved on, each breath easier now that the Prime and his mate were moving to the next guest.
Jason's gaze lingered on them as they went, watching the Alpha Prime's hand remain on her lower back, a possessive, protective touch. Ember seemed strong and proud, but Jason noticed a scar on her back that raised his curiosity. Werewolves, after all, healed quickly—how had she come by a scar so deep it refused to fade? He knew better than to wonder too deeply, but the mark left questions in his mind that would likely never be answered.
He observed them as they moved along, greeting guests with grace and authority. The Alpha Prime's gaze softened with something close to adoration as Ember spoke, and she laughed, a sound that lifted the atmosphere of the room. The sight was striking, even beautiful—the Prime, a symbol of strength, looking at his mate
as though she were his entire world.