As he stepped back toward the door, Kael added quietly, "Lara… you will be dining with the king tonight."
He offered a parting smile, then turned and left, his footsteps fading into the silence.
Lara stood frozen in the center of the room, the weight of his words pressing on her chest. Dining with the king? Alone? Why?
Before she could spiral deeper into uncertainty, Mira stepped forward, her voice warm and soothing. "Don't worry, my lady. Everything is already arranged."
"I'm not a lady," Lara mumbled.
Mira smiled gently. "You are now."
With practiced ease, Mira moved through the room, opening wardrobes and drawers, adjusting the light, and pulling out small fragrant oils. "I'll help you prepare. There's a bath ready, and I'll do your hair once you're relaxed. You'll want to look your best."
Lara let herself be led, though her mind was spinning. Mira helped her out of her clothes and into a long robe, then guided her to the bath that had been drawn in an adjoining chamber. The water was hot and scented with lavender and something faintly citrus. For the first time since being brought to the castle, Lara allowed herself to sink into the water and breathe.
When she emerged, Mira was waiting with soft towels and a brush. She worked quietly but expertly, drying Lara's golden hair and braiding small sections into delicate twists, leaving the rest in loose waves.
"I'll be right back," Mira said once she was done. "Your gown is ready."
She left the room quickly, and Lara paced in front of the fire, wringing her fingers.
When Mira returned, she was carrying a long garment draped over her arms.
"Iris sent this," she said with a smile. "She had it made especially for you this morning. Said you needed something to match your fire."
Lara blinked in surprise. "Iris? Thornak's sister?"
Mira nodded and carefully unwrapped the gown.
It was a deep shade of midnight blue, the kind that shimmered like starlight when it caught the flame. The fabric was soft as silk, trimmed with silver thread along the bodice and hem. Sleeves of translucent lace brushed the arms, and a small pendant—an etched moonstone—rested at the neckline.
Lara stared at it. "It's… beautiful."
"And it fits perfectly," Mira added, eyes twinkling. "She guessed your size exactly."
With Mira's help, Lara dressed, her nerves growing by the minute.
She didn't understand why she was here, why Thornak had prepared any of this. But the moment she caught her reflection—poised, glowing, unfamiliar, like someone from a dream—she realized how much her world was already beginning to change.
Lara emerged from her chamber slowly, the soft rustle of her gown the only sound as she moved. The dress Iris had chosen fit like it was made for her, flowing and elegant, catching the flickering torchlight with every step. She felt both strange and radiant in it—like someone she didn't quite recognize.
Dorian, her silent shadow, fell into step beside her. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and watchful, his dark attire blending into the dim halls. His presence was solid, reassuring.
The corridor stretched before them, lined with high-arched windows and tapestries that whispered of ancient glory. Still, Lara's thoughts weren't on the grandeur around her—they were on the man she was about to face. The one whose eyes had watched her with something fierce and unreadable.
As they approached the grand double doors of the dining hall, Dorian broke the silence. "You have nothing to fear."
Lara glanced at him, surprised by the quiet certainty in his tone. She gave a small nod, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not sure what I'm walking into."
He simply smiled.
And with that, opened the door to the garden.
The soft creak of the doors pulled his attention, and he turned just in time to see her enter.
His breath caught.
The moment Thornak saw her, everything else fell away for she was radiant.
Her golden hair caught the soft lantern light like strands of sunlight, cascading in waves down her back. The gown hugged her figure delicately, flowing with each step like liquid starlight. Her eyes, wide and uncertain, held a quiet strength that made something deep in him ache. Every step she took stirred something primal in him, something that roared with the need to go to her, to touch, to claim, to protect.
But he stayed still.
He couldn't afford to frighten her.
Not yet.
Not when she didn't know what she was to him.
Not when she believed this was temporary.
Thornak's heart thudded hard, a mix of reverence and yearning. She looked like she belonged here, in his garden, in his world.
His wolf going crazy beneath his skin whispered just one word: Ours.
Thornak stood as Lara stepped into the garden, the flickering lantern light casting molten gold along the sharp planes of his face.
He looked like he had stepped out of an ancient tale, tall, powerful, impossibly regal. His dark hair was brushed back from his chiseled features, jaw strong, lips firm, and eyes a molten shade of amber that seemed to burn even in the moonlight. His presence was magnetic, commanding, yet tonight there was something softer in the way he watched her.
The king is dressed in an ornate, dark armored outfit with intricate, gold-embellished designs. His broad pauldrons (shoulder armor) are finely detailed with engraved patterns and round, gilded medallions, lending him a regal and battle-hardened appearance. The chest piece is structured with dark metallic layers, subtly lined with gold trim.
His black trousers were tailored to perfection, tucked neatly into knee-high leather boots that bore the crest of Vargorath.
Everything about him spoke of quiet authority and raw power, but tonight, his gaze was softer, curious, captivated, and entirely focused on her.
She curtsied, her voice a soft murmur. "My king."
His lips twitched at the corners, not quite a smile, but something close. "Lara."
The way he said her name, it was a vow, a question, and a command all at once.
"You brought me here… for dinner?" she asked, hesitating beneath the boughs of the moonvine tree.
"I did," he said, voice low and steady. "This is my private garden. No one else comes here."
She stepped closer, still taking it in. "It's beautiful."
His gaze never left her. "So are you."
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The hush of the garden, the scent of night blossoms, and the glow of lanterns wrapped around them like a spell.
Then, with a quiet gesture, he led her to the table, pulling out a chair for her with unexpected gentleness.
She'd never dined with nobles before let alone a king.
"Thank you," she murmured, sitting, still uncertain, still wondering why he had gone to such lengths.
The table was set for two, simple but elegant. Silverware gleamed, and crystal goblets caught the starlight. Everything had been chosen with care.
Their meal grilled venison in a dark berry glaze, served with roasted root vegetables and herb bread. Lara glanced at the food, then at Thornak.
"You don't have to be afraid," he said, voice quiet, almost gentle. "This isn't a test."
Her fingers tightened around the fork.
They ate in a silence that wasn't uncomfortable. Beneath the branches, surrounded by shadow and soft light, there was a strange kind of peace.
After they were done, Thornak rested his forearms on the table, watching her. "You asked Kael about your family."
Her heart skipped. "Yes."
"They're safe. My scouts found no signs of harm. But I'll have them brought here, if you wish."
She looked up sharply. Relief etched across her face. "You would do that?"
"I keep my word, Lara. And I don't take what isn't offered."
She didn't speak for a long moment. Then, softly, "Why me?"
Thornak's gaze lingered on her a moment longer before he turned his attention to the wine and poured for them both. "Some things don't need to be explained right away," he said, his voice low. "They reveal themselves in time."
Silence stretched between them, comfortable and charged all at once. The garden around them was filled with the soft rustle of night leaves shifting in the breeze, the distant sound of the stream.
"You didn't have to bring me here," she said, looking away. "You didn't have to prepare all this."
"I know. But I wanted to."
"Thank you for saving my life and inviting me into your home"
He nodded then leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, his dark eyes unreadable in the flickering candlelight.
Her breath caught.
"I won't force you to stay," he added after a moment. "But I want you to understand that you're not here by accident, Lara. I want you here more than you know."
His voice was low, steady, but there was a weight behind it, a truth pressing just beneath the surface.
Her heart thudded, uncertain and unsteady. "You talk like we've known each other a long time."
His gaze didn't waver. "Perhaps we have."
Lara looked down, trying to make sense of the strange heat rising in her chest. Whatever this was, it was unlike anything she'd ever felt.
They spent the rest of the evening in quiet conversation beneath the stars, the flicker of lantern light dancing across the stone path. Thornak kept his promise to speak gently, never pressing, only offering glimpses of his world, his people, and the safety he vowed she would always have under his roof. Lara found herself listening more than she spoke, but not out of fear. There was something in his voice that settled the storm inside her.
Before she left, he rose with her, his expression softer now. "Tomorrow," he said, "you'll see your family. I give you my word."
Lara's chest tightened. Relief, gratitude, and something else warm and uncertain swelled inside her. She nodded. "Thank you."
Thornak dipped his head in return. "Goodnight, Lara."
"Goodnight, my king."
She turned and walked with her guard through the quiet halls of the eastern wing, her thoughts trailing far behind her. When she reached her chambers, Mira helped her out of the gown, her voice hushed with excitement, but Lara barely heard her.
As she lay in bed that night, staring up at the carved ceiling, her mind drifted back to the king, a voice full of calm strength, and the promise of home she didn't yet dare to believe.