After the servants cleared the table, and we all retired to the living room, I pulled Gwen into the corridor. My plan was simple: ask her about Alpha Devon’s mate, or lack thereof, and see what she knew. But as soon as I opened my mouth, I remembered a rather inconvenient fact about Lycans. They could hear everything. Whispering in the hall wasn’t going to cut it.

I grabbed her arm again and pulled her outside, out past the house and into the backyard. The crisp night air brushed against my skin, and I took a quick glance around to make sure we were alone. Then, another thought struck me. Gwen was a Fang. For all I knew, her hearing might rival a Lycan’s.

“I need to ask you something,” I said in a low voice, “and I don’t want anyone else to hear. Are we out of range?”

Gwen gave me a curious look, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She tilted her head, listening intently for a moment before nodding. “We’re good. No eavesdroppers. What’s this about?”

I hesitated, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous. But the question was burning a hole in my chest, and I needed an answer. Leaning in slightly, I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Alpha Devon. Does he have a mate?”

Her amber eyes widened slightly, and then, Gaia save me, she smiled. Not a polite, inquisitive smile. A knowing smile.

“Oh,” she said, drawing out the word like she’d just uncovered a secret stash of sweets. “Is that why you dragged me all the way out here?”

“Gwen,” I hissed, swatting at her arm. “Just answer the question.”

Her smile widened, but she sobered enough to reply. “No, he doesn’t have a mate. As far as I know, he’s never taken one.”

I blinked. “Never?”

“Never.” She shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

I opened my mouth to give her some excuse, but my brain refused to cooperate. Gwen arched an eyebrow, and I knew I was trapped.

“Let’s just say,” I began carefully, “it’s” relevant information.”

“Relevant, huh?” She folded her arms. “Anything else about Alpha Devon you’d like to discuss while we’re out here? His favourite colour? What he likes to eat for breakfast? The kind of women he favours?”

“Gwen,” I groaned, already regretting this entire conversation.

“All right, all right,” Gwen said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. But as we started back toward the house, her grin stayed firmly in place. “You know, if you’re hot for Devon, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

I stopped mid-step, forcing her to halt too. “What do you mean?”

Her expression turned equal parts amused and pitying, like she was about to deliver bad news with a cherry on top. “He’s got four sons. From four different women. And most women who’ve tried to get his attention? Failed miserably. Lycans like Devon only believe in fated mates. I think the only reason he’s indulged with anyone else is to ensure he’s got heirs to keep his line going.” She paused, her grin stretching wider. “Oh, and he’s a few hundred seasons older than you.”

“I know that,” I groaned, rubbing my temples as though that might help.

“And let’s not forget the fun little detail where your parents are trying to marry you off to his son,” she added. “Celeste, you really need to figure out what you want and’”

“Lady Celeste.”

Alpha Devon’s deep voice startled me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Gwen, however, remained unfazed. She turned her head slightly, giving me the tiniest wink before stepping aside.

She’d heard him coming. Of course, she had. And she’d chosen not to say a word.

When I turned, Alpha Devon was standing there, as large and utterly terrifying as ever, his grey eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch and my knees consider giving out entirely.

Gaia help me. Again.

“Alpha Devon,” I said, forcing a small smile while my mind spiralled into a panic. How much had he heard? Oh, Gaia, what had he heard?

“I’ll be inside. Lord Irving. Lady Celeste.” Gwen’s grin was positively wicked as she made her graceful exit, leaving me alone with the Lycan who currently had my heart pounding like it was trying to escape my ribcage.

I swallowed, torn between irritation at Gwen for abandoning me and the unsettling realization that I had no idea why Alpha Devon was even out here. Did he lose his way? Was he here to discuss the high council? My selection? Or, worst of all, did he overhear Gwen’s teasing?

His silence was unbearable. Those grey eyes of his pinned me in place, and I could feel the pressure of them like a physical thing. My pulse quickened, my lungs screamed for air, and I knew if I didn’t say something, I’d probably faint from sheer awkwardness.

“I, um,” I stammered, taking a breath and trying again. “Is there something you want?”

“Everyone wants something,” he replied as if that was a reasonable answer to a very specific question.

I blinked, my brain grinding to a halt. “I meant” is there something you want from me?”

“There is.”

He stepped closer, and instinctively, I backed away. Not because I was afraid, but because he was massive in a way that made me feel tiny and far too aware of every inch of space, or lack thereof, between us.

He stopped, watching me with a look that was unreadable but impossibly enticing. His stillness carried a strain that felt more powerful than any movement.

Gaia, this man was dangerous. And I didn’t mean in the traditional sense.

“What” what is it?” I stuttered, finally managing to tear my gaze away from his piercing stare. As soon as I did, I let out a muttered curse under my breath, because of course I was completely unravelling in front of him.

“You should visit Irving Island,” he said as if he were suggesting tea. “I have decided your tour of Wridel will begin with House Irving. By morning, I will send word of this to the Supreme Eminence and the High Council. Arrangements will be made for your escort tomorrow.” He paused briefly, letting the next words hit with full impact. “You will remain there for four seasons.”

“Four seasons?” I repeated, my voice rising with disbelief as I snapped my gaze back to him. “From what I recall, I was to spend one season touring the entire Sovereignty. To spend four with House Irving means I won’t be coronated until” after.”

I crossed my arms, frowning as I searched his eyes for answers. What exactly was he up to? And more importantly, how was he powerful enough to change something as monumental as the Supreme Successor’s tour without so much as a council vote?

His response was a smile.

Not just any smile—a smile so breathtaking, so unfairly perfect, that my next thought evaporated mid-sentence. It was disarming in the most infuriating way, like watching the sun break through storm clouds only to realize the storm had been far safer.

I swallowed hard, though my throat felt like it was closing. What is wrong with me?

“Is there a reason,” I began slowly, each word laced with suspicion, “why the High Council would approve such a change?”

“They will.” His voice was matter-of-fact, as though the Sovereignty itself bent to his will.

I stared at him, entirely at a loss. Was it arrogance? Confidence? Or just the cold, unshakable truth?

He tilted his head slightly, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. “Is there a problem, Lady Celeste?”

Oh, there were many problems. The way he spoke. The way he smiled. The way my pulse raced toward oblivion just standing here. But none of those were the kind of problems I could say aloud.

“Not at all,” I said, lifting my chin in defiance, though my voice shook just enough to betray me. “I’m simply curious why you think I need four seasons to “visit” your island.”

“Four seasons is just enough time,” he replied, his tone as smooth as velvet, “to understand what it means to be an Irving.”

Ugh. Of course. So this was about matchmaking me with his son. How original. But what could I say? That I didn’t want it? That I want him? Or worse, that I didn’t want his son because my heart was currently doing an Olympic sprint every time he looked at me?

I’d have to figure something out before morning. For now, I nodded, and muttered something non-committal before turning to head back inside. That would’ve been the end of it except, of course, Alpha Devon didn’t move. Not an inch.

The force of his presence made me stay put too.

“You look disappointed,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his sharp eyes watching me far too closely.

“I am’” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and my whole body froze. “Not,” I amended quickly, the correction tumbling out so awkwardly I cringed. “I am not. Apologies, Alpha Devon, but I must return’”

“I do need something else from you, Lady Celeste,” he said, cutting off my escape entirely.

Before I could respond or even think of a polite excuse to flee, he stepped closer, lowering himself so we were at eye level.

His face was right there, close enough that I could see every detail of his rugged features. Close enough that his gaze locked me in place, and the rest of the world melted into nothing. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes widened, betraying just how unprepared I was for this proximity.

“What” what else do you need?” I asked, though my voice sounded more like a squeak than anything remotely composed.

“You will reject Saffron’s proposal to join our houses by mating with Darric,” he said. “And every other marriage of alliances they present to you.”

My brows shot up so high they might have hit the moon. Surprise? Yes. Shock? Not so much. If anything, relief flooded through me like a cool breeze on a sweltering day. But relief came hand in hand with curiosity, and now I was dying to know the why of it.

“You” want me to reject them?” I asked, carefully neutral, though I was absolutely brimming with questions.

“I do,” he said. There was no room for debate in his voice, and I could tell he didn’t just want me to reject the proposals but expected me to.

Oh, this was interesting. Very interesting.

“May I ask why?” I ventured, trying to keep my tone casual.

Alpha Devon’s lips quirked, just barely, as if the thought amused him. “You may.”

But, of course, he didn’t actually answer.

I stared at him, waiting, but he only stood there, towering, his silence as loud as a thunderclap.

“Let me rephrase,” I said, narrowing my eyes just slightly. “Why should I reject them?”

The quirk at the corner of his mouth deepened dangerously close to a smirk. It was impressive how much condescension, amusement, and mystery he could pack into one slight shift of his lips.

“I have my reasons,” he said finally, like his maddeningly vague response was enough.

I crossed my arms, partly because I didn’t trust my hands not to fidget and partly because I wanted him to know I wasn’t about to let him waltz around my question. “Care to share it?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “You’ll understand in time.”

“Is there a reason you can’t just tell me now?” I asked, doing my best to keep my tone polite, but my irritation was already bubbling.

He leaned in slightly, just enough to make my pulse skip for reasons I refused to examine. “Because,” he said, his voice low enough to send a shiver down my spine, “you don’t need to know yet.”

I blinked. Once. Twice. That’s your explanation?

“You’re very good at not answering questions,” I said dryly.

“Thank you,” he replied, utterly unbothered by my comment.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, and I swore his closeness alone was enough to make the night feel warmer. Finally, I let out a sigh, deciding to let it drop for now. I’d get answers eventually, whether he liked it or not.

“So,” I said, “just to clarify: you want me to reject every single marriage proposal from the High Council, my mother, and anyone else who decides to toss their hat into the ring?”

“Exactly.”

“And what do I tell my parents?”

“That,” he said, stepping back just enough to give me room to breathe again, “is up to you.”

Oh, how convenient for him.

“What is the point of visiting Irving Island if I’m not to be Darric’s mate?” I wondered aloud, half to myself, though the pointed arch of Alpha Devon’s brow told me he had no trouble hearing.

“You’ll see,” he said.

Of course. How silly of me to expect a straight answer.

“Let me guess,” I said, folding my arms as I tilted my head at him. “I’ll understand in time?”

His lips twitched, that infuriating almost-smile threatening to make another appearance. “You’re a quick learner.”

“Or you’re just predictable,” I said, but my words lacked real heat. Mostly because I was too busy trying not to stare at the way the moonlight hit his features, accentuating his sharp jawline and those impossibly focused eyes.

“You’ll spend four seasons on Irving Island,” he continued as if I hadn’t interrupted, “because that’s how long it takes to see things clearly.”

“See what clearly?” I pressed.

“Everything,” he said, with a calm finality that made me want to stomp my foot like a child.

“I’m starting to think you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes at him.

This time, his smile fully emerged, slow and seductive, and it was devastatingly unfair how good it looked on him. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m talking about, Lady Celeste. You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“Fine,” I groaned under my breath, though I had a thousand more questions swimming in my head. “But this conversation isn’t over.”

“It’s only the start,” he replied, giving me a look so unreadable it only made me more determined to figure him out.

With that, he straightened, giving me a polite nod before turning to leave. I stood there for a moment, trying to make sense of the entire conversation. I couldn’t. And I couldn’t do anything about the ridiculous flutter in my chest that refused to settle. Four seasons. On the island. With his entire house.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

As he walked away, his voice drifted back over his shoulder. “Sleep well, Lady Celeste.”

Oh, sure. Like I’d get any sleep now.