Soon to be Lycan Princess

The Celebration

“Okay, deep breaths,” Mia said. “This is your night, remember? They’re supposed to be celebrating you.” She stood beside me, her arm looped through mine as we hovered near the entrance. Mia always knew how to ground me, and I clung to her steady presence.

I gave her a weak smile. “Easier said than done.”

Her gaze softened. “You’ve got this. And for the record, you look amazing. The lavender makes your eyes pop.”

I glanced down at my dress. The fabric shimmered faintly under the soft lighting, and while it was simple, it was the nicest thing I owned. I’d saved up for months to buy it, even sewing a few extra touches myself to make it unique. Still, it felt like a pale shadow compared to the dazzling gowns around me.

Mia nudged me gently. “Don’t start second-guessing yourself. You look perfect. Besides, Jessica looks like she fell into a disco ball. Who even wears that much sparkle?”

Her words pulled a genuine laugh from me, and I felt some of the tension ease. But it was short-lived. The moment we stepped further into the room, I felt it again—the weight of their gazes. Whispers trailed behind us, quiet enough to sting but loud enough to hear.

“Still no wolf?”

“Poor thing, I don’t know how she even shows her face.”

“I heard the Moon Goddess skipped her altogether.”

My heart sank with every word, but I straightened my shoulders and kept moving. I wasn’t going to let them see how much it hurt.

And then the atmosphere in the room shifted. The chatter quieted, replaced by an undercurrent of excitement. It was like everyone felt it at once, a subtle hum in the air that acknowledge his arrival.

Jason.

He strode into the packhouse like he owned the place, which, one day, he probably would. His presence commanded the attention of every wolf in the room, his movements confident and deliberate. Dressed simply in a fitted black T-shirt and dark jeans, he somehow managed to outshine even the most formally dressed wolves.

My breath caught in my throat as his piercing blue eyes scanned the room. Jason had always been the center of attention, the kind of person who radiated charisma without even trying. But tonight, there was something different about him.

When his gaze landed on me, it was like the world stopped. For one fleeting moment, I thought I saw something in his expression—a spark of recognition, or maybe curiosity.

Bu then Jason’s gaze shifted, the connection broken, and the buzz of the packhouse resumed as if nothing had happened.