The Gardener

Valeria’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her breath catching sharply in her throat as she spun around on her heels. Her lycan claws were still fully extended, the sharp talons gleaming dangerously in the grey afternoon light, ready to slice through whatever threat dared to sneak up on her during a moment of weakness. But there was no royal guard. There was no assassin sent by a rival pack. Instead, her fierce, defensive gaze landed on a tall man lounging casually beneath the sprawling canopy of a massive oak tree. He had been perfectly concealed by the thick, twisted branches of the now-ruined rose bushes when she first marched into the secluded alcove.

Valeria blinked, her adrenaline sputtering and fizzling out as she took in his appearance. The stranger possessed a rugged, almost feral kind of handsomeness that caught her slightly off guard. Thick, dark, unruly hair fell over his forehead, and a heavy beard framed his strong, square jaw. He wore a faded grey Henley shirt that had seen better days, stretching tight across incredibly broad shoulders and thick, muscular biceps. His heavy denim jeans were heavily stained with dark earth and grass. An earthy, masculine scent of damp soil mixed with a sharp hint of pine drifted off his skin.

A heavy sigh of sheer relief pushed past her lips. Her elongated talons seamlessly retracted into normal fingernails, hiding away beneath her skin. He was just a worker. A simple gardener for the Northern castle grounds. Judging by his highly unkempt state and the thick dirt smudged across his large knuckles, he was someone entirely inconsequential who spent his days digging in the dirt. He wasn't an omega, but his aura was carefully hidden, making it hard to tell his exact rank. He was probably somewhere in the middle of the pack hierarchy, because there was no way an alpha or a beta would hide who they were. It was in their obnoxious nature to demonstrate their dominance. He wouldn’t have a clue about her royal identity or the political mess she was currently trapped in.

Valeria smoothed down the front of her dark travel jacket, forcing her tense facial features to relax. She stretched her lips into a polite, tight smile, purposefully avoiding looking at the metallic silver petals she had just violently massacred.

“I was just... doing some trimming,” Valeria offered, her voice stiff but aiming for pleasant. “Sorry about the mess. I am just having a very bad day.”

The bearded man did not look convinced, nor did he look amused. He leaned forward, resting his thick forearms against his knees, and raked his intense gaze up and down her frame. There was a spark of calculating interest in his dark eyes as he studied her. “You aren’t from around here,” he noted, his husky voice rumbling through the quiet alcove like distant thunder. He cast a brief, disdainful glance toward the main courtyard where the carriages were still arriving. “Although there are a lot of new people crawling around here today. Messing up the grounds.”

The casual, irritated dismissal in his tone struck a raw nerve. Valeria’s lingering anger, which had only briefly subsided after destroying the ugly bush, flared right back up into a blazing inferno. Her polite smile dropped instantly, replaced by a deep scowl.

“Are you surprised?” she snapped, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She glared at him, letting the bitterness seep into her words. “It looks like your king wants a grand show. And he is certainly making sure he gets one at everyone else's expense.”

The man’s head tilted slightly, his expression remaining maddeningly calm. “As far as I heard, the upcoming event is voluntary,” he said, casually shrugging his massive shoulders. “No one is forced to take part in the trials.”

That simple, careless shrug did it. The sheer, unaffected dismissal from a man who spent his days pulling weeds deeply infuriated her. It was the exact kind of blind, entitled arrogance she had come to expect from the North.

Valeria let out a harsh, bitter laugh that echoed sharply off the surrounding stone walls, throwing her head back. “Voluntary? Oh, that is rich! Truly hilarious!” She threw her hands up in the air, launching into a passionate, unstoppable rant. “Because it is every woman’s absolute greatest desire to run after a man like a little trained circus dog! We just love performing ridiculous tasks and cheap tricks alongside dozens of others in the pathetic, desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he will be kind enough to choose her. Yes, we all just volunteer to humiliate ourselves for a prize! What is next? Jumping through flaming hoops? Fetching heavy sticks? Begging on our knees?”

She paced a few angry steps forward, her heavy boots crunching loudly over the ruined metallic leaves. “We definitely choose to be paraded around like livestock. We choose to fight tooth and nail for the fleeting attention of a man who plays twisted games with people’s lives!”

The gardener’s relaxed expression darkened, visibly annoyed by her loud outburst and blatant disrespect. “You can leave if you hate it this much,” he retorted flatly, his voice losing its lazy drawl.

Valeria stopped pacing and scoffed loudly, shooting him a withering glare. “You don’t know what you are talking about. It isn’t that simple.”

“Who are you again?” the man asked, pushing himself up to his feet. He towered over her, his imposing frame blocking out the pale sunlight, but she stubbornly refused to step back. “Did you come with one of the contenders?”

“Contenders.” Valeria snorted, her lip curling in absolute disgust at the word. She already hated it. “I came with a political victim. Enjoy the absolute truth, gardener.”

She stepped closer, jabbing a finger aggressively in his direction. “Honestly, I don’t even understand how King Draven will ever be able to look into his future wife’s face. He is making her go through all this barbaric nonsense. He uses his future queen as a literal puppet in his twisted games just because he doesn't want to go through with a straightforward arranged marriage. It is cowardly and disgusting.”

A slow, knowing smirk stretched across the stranger’s bearded face. He crossed his thick arms over his broad chest, looking down at her with infuriating amusement. “Ah, I see. You came with Princess Valeria of the Sunset Lycan Kingdom.”

Valeria felt a sudden flush of heat rise to her cheeks, but she held her ground. Technically, it wasn't a lie. She didn’t come with the princess; she was the princess. “No!”

“I bet she is angry,” the gardener continued, ignoring her denial and openly mocking her with a condescending tone. “The Sunset Princess is used to getting everything she wants handed to her on a silver platter just by clicking her fingers. A pampered royal. I am sure the concept of having to actually fight for something is a massive struggle for her spoiled mind to grasp.”

Her blood boiled. The sheer audacity of this dirt-stained man insulting her difficult past sent a violent shockwave of fury through her veins. He knew nothing of the nights she spent shivering in the dark, the constant brutal attacks, the heavy burden of growing up without parents, and fighting every single day just to keep her brother and herself alive.

“Is that what you think?” Valeria fired back fiercely, her voice dropping to a lethal, dangerous hiss. She let out a humorless laugh. “You think a girl who survived constant warfare, growing up without parents, just magically gets everything handed to her? Let me tell you something about the Sunset Princess, gardener. If she decides to stay and compete in this nonsense competition, she will absolutely wipe the floor with anyone stupid enough to go against her.”

She took another aggressive step forward, tilting her chin up to meet his dark gaze fearlessly. “But the real question is whether she would even want to marry a man like your king. Although calling him a man is not even the right word here. Because as far as I see it, he has already failed his very first test! Marrying someone like that was already a massive sacrifice on her part. And knowing he isn't even capable of keeping his own promises is just sad. That is really below her standards for any man, let alone a royal.”

The gardener’s mouth parted slightly, and Valeria decided that she had done and said enough. It was best to retreat before everything backfired completely. It actually made her feel a bit better to get it off her chest.

She took a few steps away when a loud, feral growl suddenly ripped from the man’s throat, vibrating violently through the cold air and rattling her bones. Uh-oh. She offended the gardener after all.

His relaxed posture vanished instantly, replaced by the lethal stance of a predator. The dark hue of his eyes suddenly flashed a blinding, unnatural bright blue.

He closed the distance between them in one long stride, gritting his teeth. “Listen to me, little maid,” he warned, his voice dripping with danger. “The Luna Trials are the ancient tradition of the North. This is sacred to us. The future Luna of the North will respect that tradition. If your precious princess cannot respect our ways, then she indeed came to the wrong place.”

Refusing to back down from the challenge, Valeria glared right back into his glowing blue eyes. She mirrored his threatening stance. “Oh, please, big garden boy,” she retorted, filling her words with as much venom as she could muster. “I studied the history of the North. I know for a factual certainty that even if there was such a tradition years ago, it hasn’t been done once in the past two centuries! If you did not respect your own tradition for so long, why should we?”

She decided not to continue this pointless argument. Valeria spun on her heel, her dark coat flaring sharply around her legs, and stormed off down the winding stone path. She needed to find Soren and Phaedra immediately. The faster they could strategize, the better.

Valeria marched swiftly through the sprawling, drafty castle corridors, her boots clicking sharply against the cold stone floor. She navigated the unfamiliar hallways, ignoring the bustling servants and wandering foreign guests, until she finally spotted her friends waiting quietly near the grand staircase.

Soren immediately pushed off the stone wall, his brow furrowing with deep concern. He was her childhood friend and one of the very few people she could trust in this world. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, stepping forward.

“Never better,” Valeria lied, giving a reassuring nod. She forced her rapid breathing to steady. “We have a decision to make, and we need to make it quick. I need to know where the library here is.”

“I already got the map from one of the castle servants,” Phaedra replied promptly. She produced a crisp sheet of parchment from her red leather folder and handed it over. Phaedra was always efficient like that, and Valeria was incredibly thankful for having the best team next to her.

“Good,” Valeria said, snatching the map and studying it quickly. Her sharp eyes darted across the complicated ink lines. “I need to get everything they have on The Luna Trials. I read about it long ago in one of our old books about the North, but it was barely a few paragraphs. I need to learn everything ever written about them. Every bit of information is priceless at this point.”

“Let’s go then,” Soren smirked when Valeria handed the sheet straight back to Phaedra. He knew his best friend had already memorized everything. It was one of the things they kept quiet about—Valeria had a photographic memory. It was enough for her to see something once, and she was never able to forget it. The castle’s entire plan was now permanently imprinted in her mind forever.

“I think I will go alone,” Valeria stopped them, adjusting the collar of her jacket. “We don't want to miss the time when our rooms will be ready. I feel like there are going to be a few more surprises waiting for us. Or better say, traps. Let's call them what they really are!”

“But are you going to do it? It sounds so... humiliating,” Phaedra shot her a deeply concerned glance. She knew about humiliation firsthand. Just a few months ago, Phaedra was trapped in the harem of the former Fox King. Her brother and sister-in-law managed to free all the girls, giving them the freedom of choice. Phaedra, a bird shifter, couldn't return to her flock because she had denounced them for love. She followed the fox to his pack, only to find out she wasn't the only one. He locked her up in a harem called Elysium, forcing her to wear revealing red clothes while watching the man she loved screw every other girl around. It was only when Valeria's sister-in-law, the Sunset Lycan Queen, gave them a choice that Phaedra found her new life. Valeria volunteered to find every former red girl a new job, and the two quickly became close friends. Phaedra was quickly proving to be the perfect assistant.

“I still haven't made up my mind,” Valeria confessed softly, looking at Phaedra. “I need a way out that will still get my brother the coalition he needs. If I just leave, the alliance will be in danger. But the king clearly does not want to marry me, and that makes two of us.”

“Your brain is already working,” Soren’s lips curled into a little smile as they stood in a tight circle, trying not to attract attention from the passing guards. “I am sure you will figure out the best solution.”

“I wish I was as sure as you are,” Valeria muttered. She squeezed his hand briefly before turning away. She wished she could talk to someone now about her predicament. But on some level, the annoying gardener was right. This was the first time she had to make massive decisions completely on her own, and so many lives depended on it. Leaving her trusted friends to secure their living space, she headed directly toward the library alone.

The heavy wooden door to the King’s office slammed open, the violent crash echoing loudly down the vacant, dimly lit hallway.

Draven strode into the grand room, his chest rumbling with a low, dangerous growl. His heavy boots hit the polished floorboards with deliberate, aggressive thuds. He had just returned from a brutal month in the mountains, expecting to finally find peace in his own home. Instead, he found his courtyard swarming with endless foreign women, chaotic carriages, and a Sunset Princess who possessed a razor-sharp tongue and absolutely zero respect for Northern authority.

He glared across the spacious room, his jaw ticking in severe annoyance. Sitting casually behind his massive, carved oak desk, carelessly shuffling through a private stack of his royal correspondence, was his younger sister.

“Katerina,” Draven barked loudly, his deep voice vibrating with barely contained fury as he angrily confronted her. “What the hell is all this?”