It had to be the sixth—no, seventh?—date with Arvin and his pack. I had stopped counting somewhere after the fourth, and honestly, it didn't matter. What mattered was that, somehow, I had become a part of their world, woven into the complex dynamic of their pack.
Arvin had been steady, always warm and open, his fox-embered nature making him feel like a fire on a cold night. Tsubasa, the tengu, had been kind from the beginning. Especially when he discovered I could bake. He had this habit of growing quiet and serious when I placed a cookie in his hand as if each bite was a sacred ritual. A broody brat at times, but endearing in his own way. And then there was Caladhior—the dark fae general. The only one who hadn't warmed up to me completely.
Cal watched me with scrutinizing eyes, his presence sharp, calculated, and unwavering. I couldn't blame him. The rumors had spread far and wide, twisting the truth beyond recognition. To the world, I was the Duskborn woman abandoned by a duke, a discarded pet, a fleeting amusement. No wonder men hesitated to be seen with me. But Arvin's open courtship had changed things. Ever since we had begun appearing together, things had started to shift. The whispers hadn't stopped entirely, but they had lost their bite.
It had been three weeks of being seen together, three weeks of lingering glances and fingers brushing in passing. And then, yesterday happened.
Arvin had dragged me out shopping for a party, something I had initially resisted but quickly gave in to when Caladhior decided to join us. Not that I minded Cal's presence—it was just that his scrutiny made me hyper-aware of myself. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me every time Arvin picked out something for himself, his sharp violet eyes betraying his thoughts.
Then he had done something unexpected.
Cal bought me clothes. Not just any clothes, but an ensemble so finely crafted, so carefully selected, that I couldn't pretend it was an impulsive gesture. He had picked it out for me with intention. And just like that, I wasn't just Arvin's date to the party—I was Cal's.
Tsubasa had laughed when he found out, telling me it was only a matter of time. "He doesn't waste his energy on people he thinks don't matter," he had said, offering me a gemstone with all the casual confidence of someone who knew he had already won me over.
Arvin had explained it later, that Tsubasa's inner crow was trying to court me in his own way. A strange but oddly sweet tradition.
Through it all, my patron, Duke Alric, had remained silent on the matter. He had not voiced approval, nor had he issued a warning. That silence had been its own kind of permission. As long as I remained unclaimed, I was free to be courted. And Arvin had done the honorable thing—he had asked for permission to see me properly.
Maybe that was what impressed Duke Alric. Maybe that was why he hadn't interfered.
And now, I found myself looking forward to this party more than I had expected.
.......
The victory party was unlike anything I had ever seen before.
A celebration of the defeat of the Kaeltir tribe—a rogue band of criminals who had refused to integrate into society. They had been a problem for years, a thorn in the side of the ruling elite. Now, they were no more. And the nobility loved nothing more than an excuse to drink and dance and pretend that blood had not been spilled to make this night possible.
The grand ballroom was alight with golden chandeliers, the music a symphony of laughter, clinking glasses, and string instruments weaving through the air. Women dressed in silk and lace twirled under the watchful gazes of men in their pressed coats and adorned sashes. I felt their eyes on me when I entered, but this time, there was something different in their stares. A curiosity, perhaps.
Arvin was at my side, his hand resting at the small of my back, a quiet reassurance. Tsubasa was close behind, his presence lighter, almost playful as he offered me a drink before I could even ask for one. And then there was Caladhior—standing just close enough to remind me that he was watching.
It should have been easy to enjoy myself, to revel in this newfound acceptance. But, it was hard to ignore the blatant objectification, the whispered speculations of who would claim me first, as if I were some prize to be won.
I had wanted to argue, to remind them that I was more than my status, more than the hand that would eventually rest on my waist and declare me spoken for. But that was not how things worked here. The world I had fallen into did not abide by my moral compass, and I was only just beginning to understand the depth of that truth.
And then I saw him.
Duke Callum.
My breath stilled in my throat as my gaze locked onto his familiar figure. He had always been the kind of man who commanded attention effortlessly, and tonight was no exception. Draped in midnight-blue velvet, with his golden hair catching the light like a halo, he was as striking as ever. But it wasn't just his presence that made my stomach twist—it was the woman at his side.
She was stunning, the kind of beauty that made men turn their heads and women straighten their posture in defense. Dressed in a gown of shimmering silver, she looked as if she had been sculpted by the gods themselves. And Callum was with her, his hand resting against the curve of her waist in a way that spoke of familiarity, of possession.
A slow, cruel realization curled inside my chest, spreading like frost over fragile glass.
He hadn't disappeared. He hadn't been away on some important business. He had simply moved on.
And the worst part? He looked utterly indifferent to me. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no flicker of recognition beyond a passing glance. As if the nights we had spent together, the whispered promises, the stolen moments, had never happened at all.
The room seemed to close in around me, the hum of conversation turning into a distant murmur. My fingers curled around the stem of my wine glass, tightening as if the pressure could keep me grounded. Arvin said something beside me, his voice a gentle inquiry, but I barely heard him.
The victory party was, for me, anything but a victory.