Sybil's POV

The villa was already alive when we arrived.

Servants and guards moved in a graceful blur beyond the villa's main doors. The moment our minivan rolled to a stop, everyone straightened as if pulled by invisible strings.

A line formed.

Heads bowed.

"Welcome, Your Highness."

The voice was warm, feminine, and confident. I looked up to find a beautiful woman with dark hair, probably about my age, standing at the center of them all. She wore no maid's uniform, just a sleek, long-sleeved dress that marked her as someone important.

"My name is Noelle," she said with a soft smile. "I am your head lady-in-waiting. You must be exhausted from all the rituals today. Would you like something to eat?"

Oh, thank goodness!

My stomach growled loud enough that I was sure half the guards heard it. I beamed at her, nearly launching myself into her arms. "Yes. Please. I am starving. The last thing I ate was breakfast. I swear the people at the castle were trying to starve me to death!"

I was already moving toward the entrance when Carmen cleared her throat behind me.

I turned, my excitement dimming just a little.

"Princess," she said gently, "we'll leave you in Noelle's care now. We'll return in seven days."

Seven days.

A full week.

Alone. In this villa. With four powerful Alphas I barely knew...

I was nervous again, but I hid it with a grin and nod.

Carmen gave me a knowing look before climbing back into the minivan with the others. I didn't wait to see them drive away. If I stood there too long, the reality of everything might actually catch up to me.

Instead, I stepped inside.

And immediately followed my nose.

The scent of roasted meat, herbs, warm bread, butter, and wine wrapped around me like an embrace. My wolf might be caged, but my senses were still sharp-sharper than any human's. Hunger pulled me forward like a leash.

I didn't need directions. I felt the dining room before I saw it.

The moment I entered, my mouth watered. A long table shimmered under golden light, covered in dishes that looked like they belonged in a royal feast painting. I dropped into the nearest chair and started piling food onto my plate before anyone could stop me.

"Your Highness, please, allow me," Noelle said gently, taking over with practiced grace.

I didn't even argue, and I let her pick up any dish she wanted to.

The first bite of a prosciutto roll melted on my tongue, salty and rich and perfect. My eyes widened. "Oh my God. Who made this? This is divine. I can eat this all day."

Noelle laughed softly as she poured me a glass of deep red wine. "Your personal chef, Your Highness. Her Majesty hired one especially for you-so all your cravings will be satisfied when you get pregnant."

I choked. Literally choked.

I coughed so hard I thought I might die right there, honeymoon ended before it even began. Noelle rushed to rub my back while someone shoved a glass of water into my hand.

"Babies?!" I wheezed once I could breathe again, face burning. "Who said anything about babies happening soon?"

Noelle's smile didn't falter, which somehow made it worse.

"I-I'm fine," I muttered, dabbing at my mouth. But my appetite had shrunk into a tight little knot in my stomach. Pregnant. So soon. Like it was already scheduled.

"Perhaps some soup first?" she offered gently. "To warm your stomach?"

"Maybe I just need to get out of this corset," I said, tugging at the tight fabric around my waist. "I can't even take a proper breath."

"Of course. Let me show you to your room."

We moved upstairs. Noelle gestured down the hallway as we walked.

"This is Alpha Viggo's room," she said, pointing right. "Across is Alpha River's. Next to his is Alpha Ezra's. Opposite that is Alpha Hunter's."

My steps slowed.

Four doors.

Four men.

Four fated mates I couldn't even recognize because my wolf, my other half, was locked away inside me. It's been years since I last talked to her. I am technically wolfless now.

"And the door at the end," Noelle said, stopping before a set of double doors, "is yours."

"Oh," I breathed. "So... we each get one?"

"Yes. For now. The King thought you might prefer your own space at first."

I exhaled in relief. "Thank God someone in that castle has common sense. Unlike my mother, who apparently expects me to be pregnant by tomorrow."

A few of the servants choked back giggles.

Noelle's lips twitched. "There is... another reason for the arrangement. But perhaps the Alphas should explain that to you themselves."

Oh, that did not sound innocent.

I turned to press her, but she opened the doors, and every thought flew straight out of my head.

My jaw dropped.

The room was massive, modern, and elegant, like a luxury seaside villa from a dream. Soft neutral tones, warm lighting, and glass walls leading to a balcony that overlooked the garden.

I walked toward it as if pulled by magic.

Outside, a pool shimmered under moonlight, framed by palms and low lanterns. "I didn't expect this," I murmured. "It feels like Bali... or Malibu."

"This villa was built just six months ago," Noelle said.

Six months...

The exact time my father found me... and started sending men to drag me back into this life. I'd fought them all. Hard. But somehow, I still ended up here.

I turned back inside, taking in the rest. A huge bed to the right, far too big for just one person. A plush sitting area and a large screen to the left.

"Where are my clothes?" I asked. "You can help me with the corset, then you can all go."

Noelle gestured toward a side door. "Walk-in closet and ensuite. We'll assist you, then leave you after we dress you."

"Just the corset," I insisted. "I can handle the rest. And Carmen said no one stays in the villa except us, right?"

That did the trick.

Soon it was just me.

Alone.

In a silent, moonlit room on my mating night.

I slipped out of my dress and headed into the walk-in closet... only to find it empty. Cabinet after cabinet. Nothing.

A strange chill crept up my spine.

"What is going on...?"

I moved into the ensuite. Steam curled through the air from a bath already drawn. My gaze skimmed the marble counters, then landed on something folded neatly on the vanity.

Fabric.

Small. Delicate.

I picked it up.

My eyes widened. My jaw nearly hit the floor.

"What the fuck?! They expect me to wear this?!"

Sybil's POV

I stared at the scandalous scrap of lace dangling from my fingers.

It was barely there. A whisper of fabric. Completely see-through.

Heat flooded my face, all the way down my neck. I should have been outraged. Insulted. Ready to march back to the castle and throw this... this suggestion of clothing at someone's head.

Instead, a slow, traitorous thrill curled low in my belly.

Mating night.

Four Alphas under the same roof.

And apparently... absolutely no intention of letting me hide in flannel.

"Oh, Goddess help me," I muttered.

I dropped the lace back onto the vanity like it had burned me and wrapped myself tightly in a towel. If they thought I was just going to parade around in that, they were out of their minds.

"They said there's an intercom somewhere..." I mumbled, mostly to distract myself from the way my pulse wouldn't calm down.

My father hadn't even let me bring a phone. Paranoid old wolf. As if some foreign government was losing sleep over me. He said he would buy me a new one, but it has been a week, and I still have no phone.

I searched the entire room. Nothing. The hallway, still nothing.

The villa felt eerily quiet as I padded down the stairs. I peeked into the main hall.

Empty.

I slipped downstairs, towel clutched tight, and searched room after room until I finally found the intercom mounted on the kitchen wall.

"Of all places..." I grumbled.

I pressed the button. "Hello? Anyone there?"

Static.

I tried again. Nothing.

"Great. Why tell me if it's not even working? This is frustrating!" I huffed, frustration bubbling up, right before my stomach growled loudly enough to echo in the quiet kitchen.

I glanced at the clock on the fridge. Eight in the evening.

"They're probably still celebrating at the castle," I muttered. "Fine. I'll eat. Then sleep. And I am not doing whatever they think is happening tonight. My life. My rules."

I plated food and sat at the long dining table, finally relaxing as warmth settled my protecting stomach. I was halfway through my meal when the front door opened.

A male voice.

"Seriously, did you have to drink that much tonight?!" a man snapped, clearly sounded irritated.

Panic shot through me. I shoved food into my mouth, gulped water, and jumped to my feet. If I moved fast, I could-

A rush of air hit my back.

Before I could turn, two strong hands caught my arms.

I gasped, every muscle locking.

"Well," a low voice murmured near my ear, "looks like you're already prepared to be marked tonight..."

My heart slammed so hard it hurt. I really thought I was going to have a heart attack.

His hands were warm. Large. Steady. Heat seeped through my skin where he held me, sending a shiver racing down my spine.

Then I felt it... his breath brushed my shoulder... my neck...

He inhaled slowly, like a predator savoring a scent.

"You fucking smell incredible," he growled softly. "Your scent does things to me... but I need your help before we meet fulfill your expectations."

Expectations? What freaking expectation is he even thinking?!

I spun around, words flying out before courage could fail. "Don't be mistaken, I am not expec-"

The rest died in my throat.

He was... unfair.

Sharp jaw, straight nose, strong chin dusted with stubble. Dark eyes that held mine like he already knew exactly how I'd look beneath him. Confidence rolled off him in waves, heavy and intoxicating.

But then-

I frowned and covered my nose. "What is that smell?"

He sighed. "That would be why I need help. Viggo's down and refusing to cooperate. Can you help me get him to his room?"

He asked so politely that it made me forget my irritation.

"Lead the way," I said before my brain caught up.

His smirk said he noticed.

His gaze dipped, slowly, taking in my bare shoulders, my legs, the towel clutched desperately to my chest. My grip tightened.

"It's not what you think," I rushed out. "There were no clothes. Just... that ridiculous nightdress that I have no plans wearing."

His eyes darkened with amusement. "We'll deal with that later. Let's help Viggo first."

I nodded and gestured for him to show me where.

We walked towards the main door, and I froze.

A red-haired man was sprawled on the stone floor, pale as death.

"Oh my God!" I ran to him. "What happened to him? Is he okay?"

"He's just dead drunk," the man behind me said. "The elders kept pouring. He was too polite to refuse."

I gagged slightly. "And that smell-"

"He threw up on the way here," he admitted with a shrug. "That's why I'm shirtless."

I hadn't noticed.

Now I did.

Broad chest. Hard muscle. Bare skin still damp from a rushed rinse, droplets sliding down his abs in a way that made my mouth go dry. 

What the heck is going on with me?!

He chuckled at my expression and then straightened, offering his hand.

"Hunter Olsen. Alpha Guardian of the North. Fenrivia."

So formal... for a man half-naked in front of his bride.

I placed my hand in his. "Sybil von Ro-"

My breath hitched as he lifted my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles.

"I know," he said softly, eyes never leaving mine. "How can I not? You're my mate."

I gulped. Because, as much as I hate to admit it, I am feeling something towards him. 

Lust maybe? Because there's no way that I would feel that mate pull when my wolf is caged. 

I then pulled back my hand and diverted his attention; he was looking at me so fiercely that I think I would melt. 

"Why do you need my help, by the way?" I asked quickly. "You could definitely carry him yourself."

"Oh, I will," Hunter said easily. "That's not the part I need help with."

I tilted my head, confused.

"I need you," he continued, eyes glinting, "to undress him upstairs."

My jaw dropped, not sure if I heard that right.

“What?!” I snapped, taking several steps back. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would I undress him?”

Hunter didn’t look offended.

He looked entertained.

A slow, dangerous chuckle rumbled from his chest as he watched me retreat like a cornered kitten. “Because,” he said calmly, “he is your husband. I’m asking you to undress him—not fuck him.”

My jaw tightened as I listened to him.

“He’s drunk,” Hunter continued, voice lowering as he stepped closer. “He can barely stand, let alone do anything scandalous. I just need that vomit-soaked mess off him before the smell makes me the next casualty. I'm just asking for your help because let's be honest, undressing another man is disgusting.”

I wrinkled my nose despite myself. He has a point, though.

“But,” he added, eyes glinting, “there is a faster way to get rid of that scent.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And what would that be?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he moved.

One step.

I instinctively stepped back.

Another step.

My back hit the cold railing of the staircase.

Before I could shift away, his hand slid to the small of my back, steady and firm. Heat seeped through the thin towel like it wasn’t even there. My breath hitched—

And then his mouth was at my neck.

Not rough.

Not claiming.

Just… deliberate.

His lips brushed the sensitive curve beneath my ear, and his warm breath fanned across my skin before he whispered, “Your scent.”

A shiver exploded down my spine.

“You could drown out his stench without lifting a finger,” he murmured, inhaling slowly. “If you spend the night in my bed.”

My pulse stuttered.

I shoved him hard in the chest. “That’s never going to happen! Just because I married the four of you doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with you!”

He didn’t look angry.

He laughed.

The audacity.

“I was just teasing,” he said, eyes still heated. “But be careful saying that out loud. The mating ritual isn’t something you can out-stubborn.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I demanded.

He leaned closer again, but this time he didn’t touch me.

“When it starts pulling at you,” he said softly, voice turning velvet-dark, “I’ll be in my room, waiting… I’ll be happy to help you out.”

My stomach flipped traitorously because I already have an idea what he meant.

“Come on,” he said lightly, as if he hadn’t just set my nerves on fire. “If you’re not sharing my bed, at least help me clean him.”

I huffed but didn’t argue.

“Fine. Let’s get his clothes off before you carry him. They’re soaked. Disgusting. What did he even drink? Acid?” I muttered, already tugging at Viggo’s shirt.

Hunter laughed again. “I’ll follow your lead, Luna.”

The title sent a strange ripple through me. Right… I’m not just this Kingdom’s lost princess, I am also now their Luna.

We stripped the ruined fabric away, and once Viggo was down to his briefs, Hunter scooped him up effortlessly. The display of strength did something to my pulse I refused to analyze.

I opened the ensuite bathroom—empty tub.

“Wait,” I said quickly. “Let’s use mine instead. It’s already prepared. The water should still be warm.”

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t argue.

He followed me to my room.

The air shifted the moment we stepped inside.

My bathtub was filled with steaming water, petals floating lazily across the surface. A bath meant for seduction… not sanitation.

Hunter gently lowered Viggo into the tub.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “I need to rinse his sins off me, too. You should never let him get that drunk ever again.”

That made me laugh before I could stop myself. “Go. Come back when you’re done and help me move him to his bed.”

He gave me a look that promised something very indecent later… and left.

I swallowed and turned back to Viggo.

He was completely out of it.

I grabbed the scrunchie, poured gel soap onto it, and began scrubbing his chest. He didn’t stir. Warm water slid over muscle and skin, and I focused very hard on the task.

Professional. Detached. Efficient.

When I finished his body, the foul scent lingered.

I leaned closer and sniffed his hair.

“Bingo.”

“What did you even do tonight to end up like this?” I muttered as I pulled the drain and poured shampoo into his hair.

That’s when he moved.

I froze.

He mumbled something incoherent… and then, still half-asleep, his hands drifted downward.

My eyes widened.

“No—wait—”

Too late.

He pushed his briefs down his hips and kicked them away lazily, still dreaming.

The world slowed.

I should have looked away.

I didn’t.

My breath caught as my gaze locked onto what he’d revealed.

Heat flooded my face.

My throat went dry.

And then—

He hardened.

Right in front of me.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“Mine is bigger than that.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Hunter’s voice.

I shot upright so fast my towel snagged on the shampoo pump, yanking it loose. The towel slipped, pooling at my feet.

“Fuck!” I grabbed it instantly, wrapping it back around myself as Hunter’s low laughter filled the room.

He leaned against the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung dangerously low on his hips. His hair was damp, droplets trailing down his chest, disappearing beneath the fabric.

He looked like sin given human form.

“Why are you not dressed?!” I demanded.

He raised a brow. “Says the woman who just flashed me.”

“It was an accident!”

His gaze dipped slowly. “Was that an accident, too?” He nodded toward Viggo.

I glared. “He’s dreaming! I was washing his hair!”

Hunter pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer.

Too close.

“I can’t dress,” he said calmly. “There are no clothes. Not in my room. Not in theirs.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I think,” he said, voice lowering, “they assumed we wouldn’t need them.”

My stomach tightened, but I ignored it.

I turned back to rinse Viggo’s hair, refusing to look down again. “Hand me that towel.”

Hunter picked it up and held it out.

Our fingers brushed.

The contact wasn’t static.

It was a wildfire.

Electric heat shot up my arm, into my chest, spiraling downward into my belly, and then further down between my legs in a molten rush that made my knees weak.

I jerked my hand back sharply.

Hunter’s eyes darkened.

“Felt that?” he murmured.

My pulse throbbed in my ears.

“The full moon is peaking,” he continued softly. “The ritual is waking up.”

I didn’t fully understand what he meant.

But my body did.

Warmth pooled low in my belly, thick and dangerous.

“Let’s move him,” Hunter said quietly, gaze lingering on me in a way that made my skin prickle. “Before he wakes up.”

I swallowed and nodded, wiping Viggo dry as quickly as possible—very deliberately keeping my eyes above his waist.

But I could still feel Hunter’s gaze on me.

Heavy.

Hungry.

Patient.

I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to run or to let this growing feeling inside consume me completely.