Moving with predatory grace, Kovrak crossed the hall to Faith’s side. Her warm brown eyes met his, and he caught the slight intake of breath that suggested she was not entirely unaffected by him either.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured, meaning it in a way that transcended fabric and styling. She was luminous, commanding attention without demanding it.
“Thank you.” A flush warmed her cheeks, painting them rose-gold in the candlelight. “You look quite handsome yourself.”
The compliment tightened something in his chest. He offered her his arm, guiding her to the head table with careful propriety while his tiger demanded he simply lift her onto the nearest surface and show his pride exactly who she belonged to.
Control,he reminded himself.Patience.
He seated her at his right hand—the position traditionally reserved for honored guests or potential mates—while Merral already occupied his customary place at Kovrak’s left. The pride settled around them in orderly rows, the rustle of silk and velvet creating a symphony of anticipation.
When silence finally fell like a benediction over the assembled crowd, Kovrak rose with his goblet raised high. The crystal caught the light, sending fractured brilliance across the expectant faces turned toward him.
“To strength and unity,” he began, his voice carrying easily to every corner of the vast hall. “Not only the strength of fangand claw that has always defined our pride, but the strength to create, to innovate, to welcome what is new and valuable into our midst.”
His gaze found Faith, and he watched her posture straighten with quiet pride at his words.
“Tonight, we share a glimpse of such strength. Faith has prepared something special for us—an offering that merges our worlds and shows us new possibilities.” Approval murmured through the hall like a gathering storm. “Enjoy what she has created for us.”
The meal unfolded in waves of polite conversation and steadily rising anticipation, the air thick with expectation for the moment when Faith’s artistry would finally be experienced. Faith barely spoke through the meal and picked at her food, the tension evident in every line of her body. He knew how important this night was to her, and he kept trying to give her reassuring glances and small smiles throughout the main course of the feast.
When the moment finally arrived and the servers began placing Faith’s creations before the assembled pride, the atmosphere transformed into something electric and expectant. Kovrak felt the shift like a change in barometric pressure—conversations softened to reverent whispers, heads leaned forward in anticipation, and the very air seemed to hold its breath.
Beside him, Faith’s tension radiated outward in waves he could practically taste. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for her water goblet, and the subtle catch in her breathing made his protective instincts surge forward like a tide.
Without conscious thought, his hand found hers beneath the table. Her palm was soft against his skin, and he squeezed gently, anchoring her to the moment.
“They will love what you’ve created,” he murmured, his deep voice pitched low enough that only she could hear. “I’ve never seen artistry like yours before.”
Her answering smile was small but genuine, and some of the rigid tension left her shoulders. The trust in that simple gesture—allowing him to comfort her—made something fierce and possessive unfurl in his chest.
Around them, the first tentative bites were taken with ceremonial reverence. Silence stretched like a held note before the first murmur of pleasure escaped someone’s lips. Then another. And another.
“Divine,” breathed Lady Seraphine from the second table, her eyes closing in bliss as she savored the honeyed starfruit tart.
“Innovative,” declared Elder Corwin, normally the most conservative member of their council, as he examined the delicate layers of Faith’s berry compote pastry with something approaching awe.
“Brilliant,” whispered another voice, then another, until praise rippled through the hall like water flowing downhill.
Pride expanded in Kovrak’s chest with territorial intensity. This was his mate being celebrated. Her talent being recognized. The urge to stand and declare her his before the entire assembled pride nearly overwhelmed his carefully maintained composure.
Faith’s face lit up beside him. She looked radiant, triumphant, exactly as she deserved to be seen.
Kovrak reached for one of the chocolate truffles she had crafted, the delicate sphere perfect in his palm. The moment it touched his tongue, rich decadence exploded across his taste buds—complex layers of flavor that seemed to dance and evolve with each second. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a symphony of taste that made his tiger purr with satisfaction.
“This is extraordinary,” he said, turning toward her with genuine awe threading through his voice. “I’ve never tasted anything so?—“
The crash of Merral’s goblet hitting the stone floor shattered the moment.
Kovrak’s head snapped toward his uncle, ice flooding his veins as he watched the older male’s face drain of all color. Merral’s breath came in sharp, labored hitches, his hands clawing at his throat as his body seized with violent spasms.
“Uncle!” Kovrak was on his feet before conscious thought formed, his chair scraping backward as he lunged toward his uncle.
Foam touched the corners of Merral’s mouth, his throat constricting visibly as his airways began to close. Desperate fingers reached toward Kovrak, seeking help that felt impossibly far away.
“Allergic shock,” Faith said immediately, rising from her seat with professional calm even as horror widened her eyes. “Someone call for medical assistance now.”
“Impossible,” Kovrak said, dropping to his knees beside Merral’s writhing form. “We were careful.”