Chapter 2 A Burning Gaze

• They traveled in two SUVs along a road leading to the castle. Wild lands stretched around them—dense forests and jagged cliffs. The air was cold, filled with the thick scent of magic, power, and... something else.
• Amelia sat between Steven and Gregory, gently stroking the seam of her bag with slender fingers. Her heart was beating faster than usual, though she showed no sign. Anthony was silent, staring out the window. As always, he was focused, composed. Their parents rode in a separate car. The moon was dipping toward the horizon when the towers of the royal castle appeared.
• Tall walls, black as obsidian, rose into the sky. Guards in full armor stood watch all around the perimeter.
• “Impressive,” Anthony said, breaking the silence.
• Amelia clenched her fingers.
• “This place… feels out of time. I can feel... pressure, or more like strong energy.”
• “Everyone feels it—both humans and werewolves,” Anthony replied quietly. “The royal court is a place of power. This is where the Lycans rule.”
• The cars stopped. A door opened, and in the next moment, Amelia stepped onto stone tiles. The ground beneath her feet vibrated, as if it were breathing. The castle was magnificent: stained-glass mosaics, dark marble staircases, heavy doors, and hallways scented with incense and leather.
• “Guests will be received in the north wing,” the escort informed them. “The ball begins in three hours. Please don’t be late. Guards will be stationed outside your rooms and will escort you to the throne hall thirty minutes before the ball. By His Majesty’s decree, you are welcome to remain in the castle for seven days and participate in other festivities.”
• “His Majesty...” Amelia echoed silently in her mind.
• Amelia stood before the mirror, adjusting a simple yet elegant sapphire-blue dress. It hugged her figure, accentuating her slim waist and graceful neck. Her hair was pinned into a high bun, with one loose strand framing her face. Around her neck hung that same pendant.
• “Oh Goddess, sweetheart, you look stunning!” Mira said as she entered the room. “But be careful, dear. Many at court play games.”
• Amelia nodded.
• “I’m not seeking attention. I just want to be myself.”
• “Sometimes, that’s enough to stir envy,” Mira replied softly. Smiling, she embraced Amelia and kissed her forehead.
• The enormous hall, stretching several stories high and illuminated by hundreds of floating lights, sparkled with marble and gold. Music drifted from a balcony where the orchestra played, and couples twirled across the floor as if enchanted.
• Amelia entered with her brothers and parents, trying to keep her posture straight. In this place, her human nature felt especially exposed—every gaze seemed to slide over her, catch, and linger. She felt them: approving, wary, scrutinizing.
• “Don’t fall behind,” Anthony murmured, glancing back. “This is like a battlefield—relax for a second, and they’ll tear you apart.”
• “Very reassuring,” she snorted, but her heart began to race.
• She took a few more steps forward when her eyes caught on a single figure. He stood on the second-floor balcony, towering above the crowd like a king on his throne. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black suit that fit him perfectly. His raven-dark hair was slicked back, emphasizing the sharp lines of his face. That face was cold, as if carved from marble. But most striking of all—his eyes.
• Their gazes met.