<b>Chapter </b><b>213 </b>


    <b>RYN </b>


    The first thing I noticed was the light–soft, golden, and shimmering<b>, </b><b>cast </b>by the massive crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the domed ceiling. The walls were lined with tallrrors framed in silver, reflecting the glow and making the space feel endless.


    The marble floor beneath my short heels was polished to perfection its intricate pattern of crescent moons and stars gleaming underfoot. Gentle ssical music floated through the air, yed by a small orchestra tucked into an alcove. Elite guests in elegant attire moved gracefully, theirughter and muured conversations blending into a low, harmonious hum.


    At the far end of the hall stood a raised tform with an ornate throne, its back adorned with carvings of wolves. Behind it, floor–to–ceiling windows revealed the moonlit gardens outside. The room exuded power, wealth<b>, </b>and prestige<b>–</b>a world I had only just stepped into.


    A small flight of stairs led down into the heart of the grand hall, and the moment I stepped onto the first step, the atmosphere shifted. Conversations faltered, and a heavy silence spread, broken only by the soft clink of <b>sses </b>and the faint murmur of curiosity.


    Every eye turned toward me, trailing from my face to the jeweled ne resting against my corbone. Whispers ignited like sparks in dry grass, crackling through the crowd. My wolf surged with confidence, guiding me with a smooth,zy grace that felt almost feline.


    Chin high and back straight, I descended as though I owned the room.


    My eyes scanned the hall, searching for Theon, but instead, theynded on a semi–circle of figuresmanding the room with their presence.


    The most Elite Lycan families.


    ま


    I recognized them immediately from the pictures I had seen online–Director Dutton with his sharp gaze, the Cresshalls with their unreadable expressions, the calcting Caines, the ckwells whose air of disdain was almost suffocating, and at their center, the Alpha King himself, radiating power and authority.


    Their gazes locked onto me, bitter and unyielding, like a wall of ice daring me to breach it. The tension crackled between us thick enough to choke on, but I didn’t falter. My wolf wouldn’t let me.


    I came to a stop with effortless poise and as <b>a </b>server passed with a tray of drinks, I lifted a ss from the tray ease. The motion felt natural, as if rehearsed a thousand times, but what happened next was purely instinct.


    with practiced


    I raised the ss to them, holding their collective stare, and took a deliberate sip, the cool liquid sliding down my throat as the room seemed to hold its breath.


    In that moment, I wasn’t just someone stepping into their world I was someone they would have no choice but to reckon with.


    “Ryn?”


    I turned and found Adam looking at me with awe from head <i>to </i>toe. As he approached, I noticed he had a small limp in his walk.


    “You look breathtaking.” He gushed and gently pulled me in an embrace.


    “Thank you.” I grinned, taking a whiff of his expensive cologne. We pulled apart.


    ‘And that ne.” He stared. “Makes you look like…”


    <b>Chapter </b>218


    <b>“</b>Royalty?” novelbin


    <b>“</b><b>Yes</b>. He blinked absentmindedly, his smile faltering for a moment as if he was trying to figure something ost.


    I guess <b>he’s </b>not the one who sent me <b>the </b>ne,


    So who did?


    As Adam and I chatted, his easyughter helped me rx. For a moment, I felt at ease–<i>uril </i>me. My wolf stirred, restless and alert, sensing something… or someone.


    Adam ended


    a prickling


    brushed my conversation with a charming bow, lifting my right hand to press a kiss to it. But the men b


    Theon.


    I saw him.


    How could he and Miro look <b>so </b>alike yet possess such entirely different kinds of allure<i>? </i>


    lips


    Theon stood across the room, a living <b>masterpiece </b><b>in </b><b>a </b>tailored suit that clung to his powerful frame like it had been stitched to worship him. My breath hitched, and my throat went <b>dry </b>as our gazes locked.


    His eyes burned into me–dark, silent, and far too intense. Even though I knew he was under the influence, even though <b>his </b>stare might have been filled with disdain, the pull between us was undeniable, maic, and utterly consuming,


    In that charged moment, I couldn’t help bute to a heartreanding conclusion.


    Ryn Ashmore, am hopelessly in love with this man.


    SEND <b>GIFT </b>