The Hidden Luna Queen 2

"You really are a stubborn one," a familiar, harsh voice spoke up, mere feet away from where I stood, "always showing up where you're not wanted, always trying to hog the spotlight for your insignificant self." I bit back a sigh.

Goddess, she won't let go of this stupid grudge.

I glanced slowly in the direction of my new company. Isabelle, armed with a sharp glare and a glass of half-drunk champagne, admittedly looked pretty, as usual. The dress she wore must have been custom-made just for her-glittery gold fabric with sleeves of diamond-encrusted lace that clung to her body.

She looked like the perfect picture of refinement, but the coldness in her eyes was anything but.

How ironic it was that tonight was the Hunter's Moon. Much like the hunter and his prey, Isabelle's target was locked onto me with the intent to kill, her arrow nocked tightly into her bow, ready to pounce. Ready to strike. Unfortunately for her, I was equally determined-if not more-to prevent that from happening.

"Tonight is not about me," I said, smiling courteously with so many partygoers in our midst, not entirely sure how many of them could hear our conversation. "We're here to celebrate all wolves alike... and to thank our gracious Moon Goddess for bestowing us with her beautiful gifts."

Isabelle forced a smile. "Eloquently put, Maeve, but that dress is anything but inconspicuous."

The corners of my mouth dropped a tad. My dress...?Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"Enlighten me," she sneered, "how long do you think this facade of yours will last if everyone here finds out the truth about you?"

My heart began to pound. No... she wouldn't. Not on such an important night.

That cold, wicked gleam in her eyes, however, told me exactly what she meant to do.

"Isabelle," I said quietly, locking eyes with her. "Whatever you're planning... it needs to stop."

Her scowl, however, only tightened. "No. Everyone deserves to know you're "

"Well, what do we have here?" A man's voice-deep but silky smooth, like the most rich of butters-suddenly cut into the simmering tension between us. "Two lovely, miserable young ladies amidst what is meant to be a night of celebration? I simply cannot allow it." Isabelle's attention briskly turned to that of the man who interrupted us.

Just like that, my blood ran cold.

That voice... I know it.

And in the split second that I turned and scanned the newcomer's face, everything seemed to come to a halt.

He was, without a doubt, an alpha, in every essence of the word. Tall, broad-shouldered, and undoubtedly striking in appearance, despite being years past his prime. With silver-slicked hair, prominent features, and sharp, ice-blue eyes like frozen lakes in the worst of winters, he looked like a formidable force of nature that rivaled even that of King Arlan. He was intimidating.

And he was someone I definitely had seen before. Someone from the dreadful past I desperately wanted to abandon.

Isabelle's entire demeanor changed. Where bitterness and loathing had lingered just moments ago, honeyed sweetness now rested upon landing her gaze on the man behind us.

"I'm just chatting," she said with a charming smile, much unlike the attitude she'd only just displayed with me. "Don't worry about me, Daddy."

"Of course." The way he addressed her reminded me of the way Father used to treat Sarah-so full of that tender, doting love that one might be lucky to experience.

And then he suddenly directed his attention to me, and I was trapped.

He offered me a large, courteous smile that exuded pure confidence and bravado, perfectly befitting an alpha of his status, while holding out his hand before me in greeting. "I am Kenneth, Alpha of Dawnguard Pride." Something inside me twisted, uncomfortable and tight, but I stilled my features into a calm mask as best I could.

This man was an old acquaintance of my father's.

I'd only seen him visit Moonstone perhaps twice in my life, but the few memories I had of him were always marred by the burning image of Father at his side... talking... planning... always shrouded in thick layers of secrecy. But the details didn't matter. Any connection to my father meant I wanted nothing to do with this man.

Unfortunately, I'd sworn to myself I would play the part of the perfect, well-mannered guest, and I wouldn't be able to accomplish that by ostracizing any of the king's guests.

"Yes, I remember you, sir." I returned the gesture with a small, and very reluctant, polite smile as I met his firm handshake, trying to ignore Isabelle's glare stabbing into me. "It's... nice to see you again."

He blinked, apparently taken aback. "Oh, have we met before?" I did not take his forgetfulness personally-I was not a particularly memorable girl growing up. “I suppose you do look vaguely familiar. Tell me, what's your name?” "I'm Maeve."

Something unreadable shifted in his face, quick enough that I could just barely catch the small, distinct movement. "Pardon- you said... Maeve?" he repeated.

I nodded, clasping my hands together tightly at my front.

He turned to face me dead on, cocking his head as he suddenly regarded me very carefully. The sudden intensity that lingered

in his gaze unsettled me. Burning, piercing, like he wanted to see right through me... like he genuinely could if he stared long enough.

I felt exposed under his scrutiny.

"You know..." he mused, deep in thought, "I believe one of my acquaintances actually has a daughter with that very name. You wouldn't happen to be the firstborn daughter of Moonstone's alpha, would you?"

I tried my best to hide my grimace at the unwelcome reminder of my family. "Well, actually-"

"She is," Isabelle interjected before I could fully answer, her voice dripping with disdain. "The very same, as fate would have it."

I couldn't help but redden at her tone. Evidently, she wasn't ashamed about showing her disdain for me in front of her father. Did that mean he shared her thoughts about me?

And then...

“Maeve,” her father murmured with a growing grin. The sight was... odd in a way that I could not yet explain, and again, I felt more like prey than a guest. “I've waited a long time to officially meet you.”