Northern Hospitality

Skin to skin, his hot wet tongue tracing her every curve. Valeria arched her back, spreading her thighs wider to give her mate better access. She grasped his hair as he relentlessly flicked and sucked her clitoris.

“You are mine, Vallie, only mine!” Kaelen growled. He grabbed her hips and shoved his hard, thick cock deep inside her wet pussy in one powerful thrust, locking their eyes and growling from the raw pleasure of stretching her open.

The heavy SUV violently jolted over a deep pothole on the uneven Northern road, shattering the steamy illusion. Valeria gasped, her eyes snapping open. Her chest heaved against the seatbelt. It was just a dream. A lingering, suffocating nightmare disguised as a memory.

She dragged a shaky hand across her clammy forehead, letting out a ragged breath. Next to her, her childhood best friend Soren shifted in his seat, and across from them, her new assistant Phaedra tapped away on her tablet. Neither noticed the frantic racing of her heart.

Valeria turned her head to stare out the tinted car window. The dreary, desolate landscape of the North stretched endlessly before her. Jagged grey mountains pierced the gloomy sky, and snow-dusted pine trees blurred past in a monotonous streak of bleakness. It was a cold, unforgiving place. And it was going to be her permanent home.

It was highly improbable that her future husband, the notorious Boreal Lycan King Draven Frostbane, would ever permit her to reside back in the sunny Sunset Lands. He had been demanding her hand in marriage for years. Draven was widely known as a cold-hearted, brutal warlord, and frankly, she was still baffled by his relentless interest in her. He had first proposed the marriage when she was still legally a minor. Now, at twenty years old, he had finally cornered her family into accepting.

But she didn't care about his reasons. She didn't care about Draven Frostbane as a person, a mate, or a king. She was entering this arranged marriage as a calculated sacrifice. It was a purely political move to secure a vital military alliance for her older brother, Alaric, the current Sunset Lycan King.

Because honestly, after the utter devastation she had survived months prior, Valeria couldn't feel much of anything anymore. A profound, heavy numbness had settled permanently in her chest.

Just a few months ago, she had been a naïve, happy girl who thought she had found the perfect man during a brutal war. Kaelen Vane. He was an Alpha with a stellar reputation as a warrior. The second their eyes met, the mate bond snapped into place. He claimed her instantly. He brought her to his pack, proudly paraded her in front of his people, and declared her his Luna.

Then came that night of intense passion, the very memory that just haunted her sleep. She thought she had found heaven.

Until she woke up the next morning and wandered down the hall, only to overhear Kaelen talking to his inner circle. The words he spoke had physically stopped her heart.

"Valeria will be busy the next few years mourning her brother and friends, as well as giving birth to my pups…"

He had stated it so casually. He planned to slaughter her brother, destroy her home, and keep her locked away as a mere breeding machine, popping out his heirs while drowning in grief. The cruel, calculated betrayal had shattered her soul into dust.

She had fled immediately. Kaelen had chased her, arrogant and furious, but she made his life hell. When they finally stood face-to-face again, she looked him dead in the eye and officially rejected him.

The problem was, the stubborn, treacherous bastard refused to accept the rejection. He still thought he owned her.

The SUV's brakes squeaked, pulling Valeria out of the dark spiral of her memories. She blinked rapidly, forcing the ghostly echo of Kaelen's voice out of her skull. She had promised herself she wouldn't dwell on that darkness. None of it mattered now. She would never see Kaelen Vane again.

She was here. She was breathing. She had a royal duty to fulfill. She was going to marry a stranger, let him impregnate her to produce an heir, and retreat into permanent, isolated peace. The Sunset Kingdom needed this Boreal alliance to survive the encroaching enemies, and Draven had agreed to provide his armies in exchange for her hand.

The vehicle idled in front of a massive iron gate. The driver rolled down the window, letting in a blast of freezing air, and handed their travel documents to a heavily armed Northern guard.

"Princess Valeria Ironcrest," the driver announced clearly. "The bride of King Draven Frostbane."

The guard, wrapped in thick furs, took the papers. He didn't look impressed. He leisurely scanned the documents. Another guard leaned over his broad shoulder, squinting at the official Sunset Kingdom seals.

"Is everything okay?" the driver asked, gripping the steering wheel.

"Yeah," the first guard grunted, handing the papers back with a dismissive wave. "Just one of the king’s brides arriving for the Trials. Open the gates!"

In the back seat, Soren frowned, running a hand through his messy red hair—a nervous tick he'd had since they were pups. "What did he just say?"

Phaedra looked up from her screen, her professional smile firmly in place. "There must be some kind of administrative mistake with the translation. I'll sort it out with the castle staff."

"Of course it's a mistake." Valeria forced a dry chuckle. "Relax, Soren. What else could it possibly be?"

The iron gates groaned open, and the convoy rolled onto the palace grounds. Valeria finally got a clear look at her new prison.

It was a real, literal castle. Colossal, built from dark, jagged stone, looking ancient and utterly gloomy against the grey clouds. It looked like something ripped straight out of a bleak medieval history text. Back in the Sunset Lands, the royal family lived in sprawling, modern, light-filled mansions. Her brother Alaric had warned her not to expect modern luxury in the North, but this was ridiculous.

Whatever, Valeria thought, exhaling a long breath. Not important.

The architecture didn't matter. She just needed to locate Draven, sign the marriage papers, stand through whatever barbaric ceremony they required, and get it over with. Maybe she could negotiate monthly visits with him. Or even better, yearly visits, right after she handed him a newborn heir. She could raise the pup, ignore her husband, and live out her days in quiet numbness. It was a solid, straightforward plan.

The vehicles parked in a sprawling cobblestone courtyard. Valeria, Soren, and Phaedra stepped out into the biting wind. Almost immediately, Valeria noticed a figure approaching them.

It was a woman strolling leisurely across the frost-covered stones, wearing a luxurious, deep crimson gown that plunged too low and exposed far too much skin for the freezing weather. A younger girl trailed nervously behind her, clutching a leather folder.

Valeria recognized the woman instantly, and her stomach plummeted.

"My name is Katerina." The woman stopped a few feet away, a viciously triumphant smile curling her red lips. She lazily twirled a heavy golden curl around her manicured finger. "I am the Northern Princess, and the sister of King Draven."

Valeria straightened her spine, forcing polite warmth into her voice. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am—"

"I know exactly who you are," Katerina sneered, cutting her off effortlessly.

Valeria swallowed, keeping her face blank. Of course Katerina knew. This whole messy history started with her. Years ago, Katerina had been obsessed with Alaric. She had practically thrown herself at the Sunset King, dreaming of becoming his Luna. Alaric had flat-out rejected her. Out of pure spite and bruised ego, Draven had retaliated by demanding Valeria's hand. Now Alaric was happily married to his true mate, and Katerina's dreams were dead in the dirt.

The deep-seated resentment practically radiated from the Northern Princess in toxic waves.

"Follow me," Katerina commanded, giving a dismissive flick of her wrist before turning on her heel.

Valeria exchanged a tight look with Soren, sighed, and followed.

"Your castle is magnificent," Valeria offered, clinging to the basic rules of diplomatic etiquette.

"Thank you." Katerina smirked, glancing over her shoulder. "The other contenders said the exact same thing. You will be able to enjoy the Northern architecture much more if you actually advance in..."

Valeria stopped dead in her tracks. Her lycan hearing caught the word instantly. "Excuse me?"

Katerina paused, turning fully to face her.

"Other contenders?" Valeria narrowed her eyes, dropping the polite princess act. She knew a trap when she saw one. "Maybe the princess will be so kind as to explain to me what that means?"

"Other contenders for the title of Luna of the North, of course," Katerina said, her eyes widening in mock innocence. "What else could it mean, darling?"

"But I am King Draven’s future wife." Valeria lifted her chin, staring down Katerina’s delighted, malicious gaze. "The treaty was signed."

"Oh no, dear. You got something horribly wrong." Katerina took a step closer, savoring every single syllable. "You are a contender for the position of his wife. Con-ten-der. Do you need me to define the word for you?"

"There must be some kind of a mistake," Valeria demanded, her voice hardening. "My brother negotiated a marriage, not a competition."

"There is no mistake," Katerina snapped, dropping the innocent facade. "You are a contender in The Luna Trials. Take it or leave it."

Valeria’s hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. Her nails bit into her palms. "The Luna Trials? You must be kidding me! King Draven has a very high opinion of himself if he honestly thinks his future wife should humiliate herself by fighting a bunch of other women like a dog over the honor of becoming his Luna!"

"This is the North." Katerina’s voice turned icy, her features sharpening into a sneer. "The Northerners will never bow to a Luna who is weak and unworthy! If you want this throne, if you want this alliance, you need to prove you are the best among all possible options. You must be of excellent health and flawless lineage. You need to prove your intelligence. But most importantly, you need to prove your raw strength!"

Valeria stood frozen on the cobblestones. They were dead serious. This wasn't a sick joke. Draven Frostbane had actually tricked them. The Luna Trials were real, and she was standing right in the middle of a brutal, primitive competition.

"And by the way," Katerina added, looking Valeria up and down with utter superiority. "That little outburst? That was minus five points. Congratulations. You will be the only contender starting this competition with a negative point balance."

"There are points?" Valeria hissed, her blood beginning to boil. This was an outrage. She was a royal Princess of the Sunset Kingdom, not a circus animal jumping through hoops! The level of disrespect was staggering.

"Of course there are points." Katerina giggled as she turned and led them through a heavy iron archway into a sprawling, walled inner garden. "How else would my brother figure out who is the absolute best?"

Valeria opened her mouth to snap back. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tear Katerina's smug throat out. But she clamped her jaw shut before she lost another five points. She needed to process this. She needed to breathe, and she needed to be alone.

"Now, wait here," Katerina instructed, stopping near a frozen fountain. "Your maid will come fetch you when your room is ready. We didn’t actually expect you until Sunday, so the staff only just started preparing it. You're going to be waiting a while."

Valeria flashed a terrifyingly bright, charming smile, slipping her mask back on. "That’s quite all right. The Northerners are famous for their warm hospitality, are they not?"

The jab hit its mark. Katerina’s smug smile vanished. Everyone knew the North was famous for being a frozen, unwelcoming wasteland.

Katerina spun around and marched away without another word, her poor assistant scurrying after her.

Valeria stood in the biting wind, knowing damn well it would be hours before anyone came to get her. They hadn't forgotten her room; this was a deliberate power play to leave her freezing in the courtyard.

She turned to Soren and Phaedra, raising a hand to stop them from speaking. She couldn't deal with their sympathetic looks right now. She refused to let her loyal friends watch her unravel.

"Stay here," she ordered sharply.

Before they could protest, Valeria marched away, venturing deep into the massive, winding stone paths of the castle's garden. She needed to get the ugly, violent rage out of her system, and she needed no witnesses.

She stomped past dead vines and dormant trees until she found herself in a secluded alcove. The political numbness that had shielded her for months was completely gone, replaced by a raging inferno.

It wasn’t fair! This wasn't the deal! She was fully prepared to sacrifice her freedom, her body, and her future just to keep her brother and her people safe. The Boreal alliance was supposed to be a guarantee.

But this? Being forced to fight like a stray mutt in some barbaric trial for a man she didn't even want? It was hell. Pure, unadulterated hell.

And the most terrifying question gnawed at her mind: Was the alliance even guaranteed if she won? Draven had lied about the marriage. What else was the Boreal King lying about?

Just thinking about the arrogant Northern King made her blood roar in her ears. He called himself the Northern Star, yet he pulled a cheap, manipulative scam like this?

Valeria’s frantic eyes locked onto a bizarre plant in the center of the alcove. It was the ugliest rose bush she had ever seen, its twisted branches bearing strange, metallic-looking flowers that gleamed coldly in the grey light.

A fierce growl ripped from Valeria's throat. Her lycan claws tore through the skin of her fingertips, elongating into razor-sharp talons.

She lunged at the bush.

With a furious scream, she slashed her claws through the thick stalks. Silver petals and metallic leaves exploded into the air. She hacked and shredded, destroying every single bloom she could reach, tearing the strange plant apart in a blind, destructive outburst of sheer rage.

"That lying, cheating, self-absorbed, manipulative, conniving, treacherous piece of a bastard!" Valeria shrieked at the top of her lungs, ripping the final metallic flower from its stem and crushing it under her heavy boot.

She stood there, chest heaving, her breath pluming in the freezing air like dragon's smoke. Her claws were out, her heart was hammering against her ribs, and her hands were shaking.

She waited for the relief to wash over her. She waited for the anger to subside.

It didn't. It didn't help at all. She still felt trapped, furious, and utterly humiliated.

Then, the situation got infinitely worse.

A low, deep chuckle echoed through the quiet alcove, coming from directly behind her.

Valeria froze, the hair on the back of her neck standing straight up.

"What did that bush ever do to you?" a husky, incredibly deep voice inquired lazily.

Valeria spun around on her heels, her lycan claws still fully extended, to face the unknown man who had just witnessed the Princess of the Sunset Kingdom having a completely unhinged, unroyal breakdown.