I was navigating the edge of the dance floor, trying to reach a pillar where I could disappear for a moment, when it happened.

A servant, darting through the crowd with a heavy silver tray of crystal flutes, misjudged the turn.

We collided.

It wasn't a hard hit, but my body was a map of raw nerves and bruised muscle.

The impact jolted my spine, and a sharp, white-hot flash of pain shot through my lower back, it was a direct reminder of the Wolf's lack of restraint.

I gasped, my knees buckling for a split second.

"Your Grace! Forgive me!" the boy stammered, his face turning the color of ash as he struggled to steady the rattling tray.

I grabbed his forearm to steady myself, my fingers digging into his sleeve. For a heartbeat, the mask slipped. My jaw tightened, my breath hitching in a way that wasn't feminine or soft. It was the reaction of a man bracing for a fight.

I saw the boy's eyes widen. He was close enough to see the tension in my neck, close enough to hear the rough edge of my gasp.

"I-I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," I hissed, then immediately caught myself. I forced my hand to relax, smoothing the silk of my gown with trembling fingers. I blinked, letting my eyes go wide and watery. "I'm just... a bit lightheaded. The heat, you understand."

The servant nodded frantically, but he looked unsettled. Did he perhaps notice something?

Before the servant could apologize for the third time, a hand clamped on my shoulder.

I jumped in fright and made a very unladylike sound.

"There you are, I've been looking all over for you." Denis smiled at me. I let out a deep sigh, trying to calm my nerves.

"How are you enjoying the party?"

I shrugged. "It's been great so far."

His smile tightened. "Nothing out of the ordinary?"

I returned his smile. "Not that I could think of."

He chuckled, the tense smile vanishing. "Hope you're taking my advice well?"

"As well as I can." I tried chuckling back but it just sounded awkward.

"Wait!"

The sharp, shrill cry cut through the music, causing the dancers nearby to falter. I turned toward the sound, my heart sinking as I saw a younger woman-one of Lady Solvra's companions-marching toward us. Her face was flushed with a mixture of anger and excitement, the kind wolves showed when they smelled blood in the water.

"My bracelet!" she gasped, stopping inches from me. She held up her bare wrist, her chest heaving. "It's gone! My mother's heirloom, the sapphire cuff-it was here only a moment ago!"

Denis sighed, a sound of pure boredom. "Lady Mila, surely you just dropped it. The floor is covered in enough gems to buy a small village. Check your hem."

"I did!" Mila snapped, her eyes snapping to me with a terrifying focus. "I felt it snag when I passed her. When the servant bumped into the Prince's mate."

The circle of nobles widened, a predatory silence falling over the immediate area. I felt the weight of a hundred stares.

"Are you suggesting something, Mila?" Denis asked, his voice losing its playful edge.

"I'm saying I want to see her pockets," Mila said, her voice rising so the surrounding tables could hear. "Or perhaps she's tucked it into that silk bodice. It's no secret her family's estate is... struggling. Perhaps a human bride needs a bit of Caravain gold to feel at home?"

A ripple of hushed whispers broke out. Thief. Human. Commoner. The words drifted through the air like smoke.

I felt the heat rise to my face, not out of shame, but out of a cold, white-hot fury. I looked at Mila-at the smug curve of her lip and the way her friends were already giggling behind their fans. This wasn't about a bracelet. This was an execution.

If I let her search me, the corset would be a problem. If they laid hands on me, they'd feel the binds. They'd feel the lack of softness. They'd find out I wasn't just a thief, but a lie.

"Lady Mila," I said, my voice steady, though my heart was a frantic drum in my chest. I used the lower register of my voice, the one Solvra had mocked, making it sound slow and dangerous. "You've had quite a lot of wine tonight. Perhaps it simply slipped off while you were... gesturing so wildly?"

"How dare you!" she hissed. "Search her! If she has nothing to hide, she won't mind."

She reached out, her fingers clawing toward my shoulder, intent on dragging me toward the center of the hall.

My instinct screamed to catch her wrist and twist, to put her on the floor the way my brothers had done to me. I had to physically lock my muscles to keep from reacting.

"Is there a problem here?"

The predatory circle that had been closing on me scrambled at the presence of the prince.

Mila's hand froze, inches away from my shoulder.

Her bold, wine fueled courage vanished, replaced by a visible tremor as Eilis golden gaze locked on her.

"My prince." She gasped as Eilis stopped at my side.

"I asked a question." He said, his voice dropping an octave. "Why is your hand near my mate lady Mila?"

Mila stammered, her face turning a deep shade of grey. "My... my bracelet, Your Highness. It went missing, and I thought-I felt a snag when she passed-"

"You thought?" Eilís stepped into her space, forcing her to look up at him. "You thought to lay your hands on her in the middle of my father's hall? To accuse her of theft like a common cutpurse?"

"It is a sapphire, Your Highness," a voice called out from the crowd, emboldened by the safety of numbers.

My fist tightened, what reason would I have stolen a sapphire when I had dozens embroidered into my wedding gown?

"A family heirloom," another whispered, the sound carrying easily in the hushed hall. "And the humans are desperate. Who could blame her for wanting something to take back to that crumbling estate?"

The murmurs rippled through the circle like a slow-moving tide. She's a commoner. She doesn't belong here. A wolf would never stoop so low, but a human?

The air in the room seemed to sharpen as the collective suspicion of the court solidified. Mila took a shaky breath, her confidence returning as she felt the backing of the other nobles.

"I am not the only one who thinks so, My Prince," she said, her voice regaining its edge. "The girl has no jewelry of her own. Is it so hard to believe her fingers wandered?"

Eilis looked ready to snap her in half, his posture a jagged line of restrained violence. I felt like a bird pinned to a board, having no idea how to defend myself.

Every word that formed in my throat felt like a trap. If I spoke to softly, I was weak, but if I spoke too firmly, my voice would betray the secret I carried beneath my corset.

What could I say in this situation? I had no proof. It was my word against a noble wolf.

Denis stepped into the circle with a slow predatory gaze,that made a look of uncertainty flash past Mila's face. "A tragic loss, Lady Mila," he said, his voice smooth as honey. "But I noticed something curious when you were screaming for a search."

Mila flinched, her hand dropping slightly from where she had been pointing them at me. "What could you possibly have noticed besides this human's thievery? we all saw the collision, she was right there."

"The sapphire cuff," Denis mused, ignoring her tone. He stepped closer, invading her personal space until Mila had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. He reached out a hand, not touching her, but gesturing toward her bare wrist. "It's a spring-lock mechanism, isn't it? A family specialty. It doesn't 'snag' and fall off. It has to be depressed from both sides to release."

A murmur went through the crowd. The wolves knew their craftsmanship.

"The servant bumped her!" Mila shrieked. She looked around at her friends, searching for support, but they were already stepping back, sensing the shift in the air. "The impact must have-"

"The impactwould have shattered the crystal flutes before it broke that lock,"

Denis interrupted, his tone turning ice-cold. He turned to the servant, who was still trembling. "Boy. Show me your hands."

The servant held out his hands, palms up. They were empty, stained only by the condensation of the spilled wine.

"Now," Denis said, turning back to Mila. "Lady Mila, would you be so kind as to unroll your left sleeve? The one tucked so tightly into your bodice? It seems a strange way to wear such fine velvet, don't you think?"

Mila's face went from grey to a ghostly, translucent white. She tried to step back, but the crowd of nobles-sensing a change in the wind-blocked her path.

"I-I don't see why-"

"Because," Denis said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "I saw you palm it the second the collision happened. You didn't lose a bracelet, you hid one. You didn't want justice, you just wanted an excuse to strip the Prince's mate in front of a gallery."

Eilís let out a sound that wasn't human. It was a low, vibrating growl that seemed to shake the very floorboards.

"Show us," Eilís commanded. Under the weight of Eilís's command, Mila's muscles betrayed her. Her hand shook as she slowly reached into the heavy velvet fold of her own sleeve. Her fingers emerged clutching the sapphire cuff.

The silence that followed was deafening. It wasn't just a mistake anymore. It was a deliberate, malicious frame-job.

Mila didn't cry, she didn't even shed a tear. Instead, the fear in her eyes was replaced by a sharp, jagged defiance. She looked at the bracelet, then up at Eilís, before her gaze landed on me with a hatred so pure it felt like a physical blow.

"Yes," she spat, the word dripping with venom. "I hid it. I wanted to see her stripped. I wanted every wolf in this hall to see the fragile, pathetic thing you've tied our kingdom to."

"Mila," Denis warned, his voice low, but she was beyond listening.

She stood tall, looking around at the gathered nobles. "Are we really going to pretend? Are we going to bow to a human? We are wolves of Caravia! Our blood is iron and moonlight, yet we are expected to share our air, our secrets, and our throne with a creature that breaks under a servant's tray? A creature that can't even speak with a voice that doesn't sound like a dying bird?"

She pointed a trembling finger at me, and for a moment, I thought she would lung at me. "I did it because I hate that she is here. I hate that our Prince is compromised by a weak heart and a weaker mate. If a simple search would have exposed how unfit she is to stand among us, then I would do it again."

The murmurs that followed weren't of embarrassment this time, they were of agreement. I could feel the shift in the room. Mila had said the thing they were all thinking.

I was terrified of what they would do. Yes, I'd barely escaped being searched, but what's to say it won't happen again? What was to say a dozen Milas wouldn't corner me in a hallway where Denis couldn't see?

Eilís's reaction was terrifying. He simply stepped toward her, his movement so fast it was a blur. He caught her by the throat, lifting her until her toes barely brushed the floor.

"You think her weakness compromises the throne?" Eilís whispered, his voice vibrating with a lethal, subsonic frequency. "It is your disloyalty that compromises it."

His grip tightened, and I saw Mila's hands clawing at his iron wrist.

"You hate that a human is in your midst?" Eilís leaned in, his eyes glowing a solid, predatory gold. "Then you will be glad to leave it. You are stripped of your name. You are stripped of your lands. You will be escorted to the Northern border-not to a cloister, but to the outposts. If you find humans so beneath you, perhaps you can spend your life defending us against them."

He dropped her like a sack of unwanted grain.

"Get her out of my sight," Eilís commanded.

Two guards moved in, dragging a gasping, broken Mila toward the doors. The court watched in stunned silence. They had seen the price of speaking their hatred aloud.

Eilís turned to me then. His hand was still trembling with the effort of not snapping her neck. He reached out, his thumb brushing against the bruise on my throat, and for a second, I saw the conflict in his eyes. He hated the court as much as they hated me.

"We're leaving," he said, his voice raw.