Is luck on my side?
1059 Words
Elaria’s POV
Gasps fluttered through the crowd like startled birds in danger.
Amara took an uncertain step backward, her painted smile faltering as the stranger’s gaze never even drifted her way. All that warmth she had coiled around herself, pride, smugness, and triumph dissolved in the presence of the man who had just entered into the hall.
No, not a man.
A force.
Alaric moved through the room like a shadow drawn from moonlight and midnight storms, elegant, controlled, dangerous. Everything about him was cut with precision, the broad slope of his shoulders beneath a tailored black coat, the subtle gleam of silver embroidery along his cuffs, the clean line of his jaw dusted with stubble. His dark brown hair was tied back loosely, revealing sharp cheekbones and green eyes that should have looked cold, but when they landed on me, they warmed. Just a little.
He had walked past Amara like she didn’t exist.
Jealousy twisted her features into something ugly.
“If I’d known he looked like that,” she hissed under her breath to our mother, “I wouldn’t have minded marrying a rogue. Gods, even a sealed wolf like him wouldn’t be so bad…”
Mother scoffed softly, smoothing her expensive cloak with a sneer. “Don’t be stupid, Amara. A werewolf with a sealed wolf is as good as crippled. I don’t care how handsome he is, he is still useless.”
A few nearby wolves snickered in agreement.
“Look at him. Dressed like an Alpha, how ridiculous.”
“Who does he think he is, wearing noble silver?”
“Disgraceful, walking in here like he owns the place.”
They didn’t even lower their voices. How people change so quickly when things don't go their way.
Alaric heard. I could tell, his posture stiffened for half a breath. But then, with effortless grace, he did something I didn’t expect.
He turned to them and smiled.
A slow, calm, devastating smile and they went quiet.
He offered a slight nod to the elder officiant and then to me, his voice velvet and rich as aged wine.
“I apologize for my delay, Elaria. I had to deal with some. . . persistent roadblocks.” He said it gently like we were old friends meeting again after years apart.
I swallowed, suddenly aware of my heartbeat, and the way his gaze held mine like we were alone in this crowded room.
“It’s fine,” I said, finally finding my voice. “You’re here now. That's all that matters”
His eyes softened. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
His words should have sounded like a lie or something he must have cooked up to say as an excuse but they didn’t. They felt real. They felt. . . grounding.
And suddenly, all the whispers, the stares, the judgment, it all faded into something small and distant.
Because I was standing across from a man who was everything they said he wasn’t. Regal. Composed. Lethal, probably, but with restraint and purpose. It didn't matter anymore if his wolf was sealed or not. As long as he looks at me like I mean something, I am more than okay with him.
And gods help me, he was beautiful.
The officiant began the bond ritual without any other delay. I turned toward Alaric and lifted my hand, palm up. He mirrored the motion, his fingers brushing against mine.
His skin was warm, warmer than it should’ve been. Or maybe it was just me, maybe I'm beginning to imagine things.
Something sparked between our palms. A crackle of invisible energy. My breath caught.
Then I saw it.
A ring on his right hand, a black stone set in star-forged silver, swirling with mysterious runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. It was too detailed, too alive to be decorative. And definitely too expensive to belong to someone like him.
I blinked.
That was no ordinary ring.
That was a magic ring, not the cheap enchantments worn by court fops, but something powerful, rare, and protective.
Alphas wore rings like that.
But Alaric… wasn’t an Alpha.
Why would a disgraced, illegitimate son with a sealed wolf, an exiled rogue who had been chased away, own something so valuable?
He caught me looking.
His lips quirked in a half-smile, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“It was a gift,” he said under his breath, his tone unreadable. “From someone who believed in me.”
I didn’t press. But I didn’t look away, either.
The officiant placed the bond thread between our joined hands, chanting the old rites. The connection formed slowly, warmth blooming up my wrist, through my arm, and into my chest. It wasn’t the usual snap of power I’d read about in books or seen amongst my kind. It was quieter, deeper, and like the sound of your own name whispered in a storm. It was ours, mine. I belong to someone now, I have a new family.
But then there was something else.
A presence beneath my skin, foreign but not hostile. It felt ancient. Caged.
It pulsed once in the back of my mind and then went still.
Alaric didn’t flinch. But he was watching me closely.
Was that… his sealed wolf?
I held his gaze, refusing to look away. He didn’t blink. Didn’t falter. There was something magnetic in the way he stood like he was both inviting and warning me at the same time.
Amara’s voice hissed behind us, sharp and childish breaking the little enchantment that I and Alaric just created. “This is ridiculous. Why is she getting all this attention?”
Our mother shushed her, but not before muttering, “Let her enjoy it. When he fails to shift, everyone will see what a waste he is.”
But they were wrong.
He might have been exiled, Illegitimate, sealed. I will never see him as a waste, and it won't matter if anyone saw him that way.
But as he stood there beside me, his hand steady in mine, his shoulders back and eyes calm as moonlight, Alaric Marlow didn’t look like a failure.
He looked like a storm waiting to happen.
And for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel ashamed to be chosen.
I felt lucky.
- Writer
