Everything I had said was the truth.
If I had not wanted to spare these old packmates some dignity, I would have already told them that Pinecrest Lodge belonged to my bloodline's holdings.
Seeing my silence, Selene Frostveil lifted her goblet and approached me with a cold smile curling her lips.
"Do you know why I severed our bond back then?" Her voice dripped with contempt. "A male without strength has no right to posture like a true Alpha."
"Drink this down, and I will pretend none of what just happened ever occurred."
I rose slowly from my seat, meeting her gaze without flinching. The scent of her arrogance was thick in the air, mingled with the perfume she used to mask her natural musk.
"Selene Frostveil, I showed you a measure of courtesy, and you actually believe I am still that lovesick fool who would have done anything for you four years ago?"
I turned toward the chamber entrance and called out in a commanding tone that echoed through the lodge.
"Attendant! Bring me the provisions ledger."
"Tonight's entire gathering—every morsel, every drop—goes on my account."
The words had barely left my mouth when a male in formal attire stepped through the doorway. He stood before me with his head slightly bowed in deference, his posture that of a wolf acknowledging superior rank.
It was Garrick Pineward, the Lodge Marshal of Pinecrest. I had encountered him once before when arranging the private chamber for this gathering.
I kept my eyes fixed on Selene, but my words were directed at him with easy familiarity.
"Your restricted reserve menu—prepare every dish on it."
"And bring two bottles of your finest aged moonwine. The rarest vintage you have."
Garrick said nothing. He simply dipped his chin in acknowledgment and withdrew from the chamber.
Everyone in the room went still. Even Selene's eyes widened with disbelief.
Then, in the next heartbeat, she threw her head back and laughed until she nearly doubled over.
"You really cannot stop pretending, can you?" She wiped at her eyes, still shaking with mirth. "My mate and I have dined at this lodge more than ten times. There is no restricted reserve menu. Could you at least prepare your lies before you speak them?"
The others turned their gazes toward me, anticipation gleaming in their eyes. I could sense their eagerness—they were all waiting to watch me be humiliated.
After all, in their minds, I was still that pathetic, lovesick wolf Selene had cruelly abandoned.
Back then, I had been willing to defy my father for her sake. I had walked away from my birthright and ended up running errands across the city like a common packless wanderer, just to prove I could make my own way.
And after I had cleared seventy thousand in debts she had accumulated—resources I had scraped together through endless labor—she had crawled into the bed of Darius Ashford, heir to the Ashford Pack.
Heartbroken and hollow, I had returned home to accept my place in the Nightcrest succession. I had sworn I would never lay eyes on Selene Frostveil again.
Yet here I was at this gathering of old acquaintances, not only facing this treacherous, status-hungry she-wolf once more, but being publicly humiliated by her. She had used the very debt I had paid on her behalf to grind my dignity into the dirt before everyone present.
This insult I could not swallow.
"Just because you have never tasted it, just because you have never been offered it, does not mean it does not exist." I kept my voice level. "It only means your standing was never high enough."
"I suggest you hold your tongue. When the food arrives, your face will sting enough without adding more words to regret."
"Kael Nightcrest, you—!"
Before Selene could finish her snarl, the chamber doors swung open once more.
Dozens of exquisite dishes were carried in by attendants, each platter more elaborate than the last. The gathered wolves watched with stunned expressions as the feast was arranged across the long table.
Garrick Pineward followed, cradling two bottles of limited-vintage moonwine in his arms. He addressed the room with formal respect.
"The Denmaster has declared that all present tonight are honored guests."
"This evening's consumption is to be waived entirely."
I gave a slight nod of approval. The Pineward steward certainly understood how to conduct himself. Using a single feast to curry favor with the heir of the Nightcrest Pack was a transaction that would cost him nothing and gain him much.
"Please convey my gratitude to Denmaster Pineward. Tell him that I—"
I had barely begun my courteous reply when Selene cut me off with a sharp wave of her hand.
"Kael Nightcrest, who gave you permission to speak on our behalf?"
"The Denmaster obviously extended this honor because of my mate Darius's standing. What right do you have to play the gracious host? You are thanking him as though any of this has anything to do with you!"
She shoved past me and strode up to Garrick, her chin lifted with entitled pride.
"I will thank Denmaster Ronan on behalf of my mate. Consider this toast my gesture of respect."
"Once Darius finishes his current affairs, we will personally visit the Denmaster to express our appreciation properly."
Selene raised her goblet and drained it in one smooth motion.
As the last drop passed her lips, a strange expression began to spread across Garrick Pineward's face—something between confusion and barely suppressed disbelief.
