Chapter 37
Nicolas Pov
The ballroom was already glowing when I arrived, earlier than necessary but dressed to perfection I hoped - crisp silver-lined tunic, formal sash across my chest, and my family crest glinting at my collarbone. I adjusted the cuffs of my sleeves absently, pacing the marble floor with practiced calm.
Today mattered. The final day of the Grand Union Party. The day Viona returned. And their first dance as an official couple.
I caught my reflection in one of the tall mirrors and straightened my posture. No second chances tonight. The Alphas were watching. The council would be watching. And more importantly, my pack was watching; I can't mess this up.
Viona entered not long after. Her presence was like a blade - quiet, sharp, and utterly arresting. Her black and silver gown shimmered under the chandelier light, accentuating the strong lines of her frame. She didn't smile. She rarely did it with me. But her eyes sought me across the room and I felt the familiar twist in my chest.
She made her way to me without fanfare, and I bowed slightly, offering my hand. "Shall we, Lady Viona?"
Her gaze was cool, but not unkind. "Let's make it quick."
The music swelled, and we began to move - fluid, synchronized, practiced. The murmurs in the crowd hushed. Eyes turned to us. The first dance was always symbolic - of unity, of power, of future alliances - and the audience hung onto every turn, every step.
But I... faltered.
Not in form, but in focus.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. Flora.
She stood against a marble pillar, draped in emerald silk, her dark curls pinned with small golden roses. Her green eyes were locked on me, burning with something unspoken. Her gaze trailed every movement I made - as if willing me to look at her. And daring me to remember.
And for a moment... I did.
I missed a half beat in the rhythm. Not a full misstep - but enough for Viona to notice. And then her heel came down hard on my foot.
The pain was sharp and I winced.
"If young Alpha Nicolas finds the corner so interesting," Viona said coolly, her voice low enough for only me to hear, "he might as well go to it."
Heat flushed into my neck. Embarrassment crept up my spine like a snake.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, adjusting my posture quickly. "That was... clumsy."
"Hm," was all she said. But her expression remained unreadable as ever.
Glancing around, to my relief no one else noticed my misstep.
We danced on, silent but precise. I'm focused now, trying to drown out the burn of Flora's gaze and the weight of Viona's subtle disappointment.
The music came to a gentle close. Applause followed - polite, appreciative, fleeting.
With a bow and a final nod, we left the floor as others began to filter into conversation clusters. Wine flowed. Platters of spiced meats and candied fruits were brought in. The air warmed with food and laughter.
I mingled half-heartedly, greeting distant uncles and foreign Alphas, trying not to let my eyes drift back toward Flora. But something gnawed at me. A weight in my chest. A guilt I couldn't name, but felt all the same, like it happened before.
Then-
A scream.
The music stopped.
The chatter died.
It came from the back of the hall, near the wine service.
I turned instantly.
A scream shattered the moment.
Commotion erupted near the back of the ballroom - beyond the wine station. Guests rushed to the side, voices rising in alarm.
My heart lurched. I pushed through the gathering crowd.
I reached the center just in time to see her - Flora - collapsed on the floor, her eyes wide and glazed, body trembling faintly. She looked pale, almost gray, and her hands clawed weakly at the tiles.
Beside her lay her nanny - the older woman curled on her side, coughing violently, blood spattering from her mouth onto the stone floor.
Gasps rose around them. One noblewoman fainted. Another began shouting for a healer.
I dropped to my knees beside Flora without thinking. "Flora? Can you hear me?" panic clouding my thoughts.
It was then that I realized.
Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Her lashes fluttered, unfocused. I turned to the nearest guard. "Get a medic. Now."
The nanny was barely conscious. Her breath came in wet, gurgling gasps. I could smell the sour sting of tainted wine - bitter herbs and copper.
Poison.
My chest tightened. This wasn't an accident. This was targeted; I felt it.
Viona pushed through the ring of guests moments later, her face hard, eyes calculating. She looked first at Flora, then at the nanny - and then at me, still on the ground beside them, my hands shaking slightly.
Instead, she looked towards the wine table, towards the servants, towards the cluster of cups – and then towards the shadows near the eastern archway.
Where someone or something had already vanished. She charged towards the archway, disappearing into the corner.
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