The Feast Can Wait
Cleopatra’s POV
It has been days since the protective spell had been woven around Jayden, and the oppressive weight that had settled on my chest had finally begun to lift.
The chilling dreams and ominous visions had vanished, replaced by the familiar normalcy of our lives. The laughter in the halls, the gentle hum of activity from the pack house, the comforting presence of Williams by my side—it all felt real again.
Jayden was safe. My heart swelled with gratitude, a silent prayer of thanks to the goddess for the spell's success.
Today, however, was far from normal in terms of pace. We were hosting the Alphas from every corner of the kingdom, a grand celebration marking five years of peace, alliance, and unity among all the packs since the dark era of terror and nightmares had ended. Every pack had truly flourished in this newfound reign of peace.
"No, no, the garlands need to hang lower, almost brushing the shoulders of the guests as they walk by!" I instructed, my voice carrying over the pleasant din of excited chatter and the soft clinking of pottery.
Two maids were struggling with a particularly stubborn floral arrangement near the entrance to the grand hall. "And those tapestries, they should be draped to create a more intimate feel, not just hung flat against the walls. We want warmth, a sense of belonging, not a museum display."
I moved through the bustling courtyard, my eyes scanning every detail. Every chair placement, every decorative flourish, had to be perfect.
Williams had given me free rein, trusting my eye for aesthetics and my ability to manage the chaos that inevitably accompanied large-scale events. He knew I thrived on it.
"The tables need to be moved slightly closer together here," I pointed to a cluster of long dining tables, "to encourage conversation. And we need more lighting in this corner—perhaps a few more of the carved lanterns?"
My instructions were clear, concise, and met with swift, coordinated action from the decorating teams. My Luna and Queen duties often intertwined, especially on days like this. I loved seeing my vision come to life, transforming a familiar space into something magical for our esteemed guests.
My gaze drifted towards the kitchen wing. The tantalizing aromas of roasting meats and simmering spices were already wafting through the air, promising a feast worthy of our visitors.
"Alright, I'm heading to the kitchens now," I announced to the head decorator, who nodded, already moving to relay my latest instruction.
With two maids trailing behind me, lists clutched in their hands, I headed towards the heart of the culinary operations. "Ensure the chilled fruit platters are ready to be brought out right as the main courses are cleared," I rattled off as we walked. "And we'll need extra ice for the wine, given the number of guests expected."
“Someone replace the gold runner. That shade is more urine than royal, and if I see it again I will throw it on the pyre myself.”
A few gasped.
I smiled sweetly. “Try me.”
“Raise the banners! The Mooncrest wolves are arriving soon, and their Alpha is ridiculously sensitive about height. No, not that high. Lower. Perfect. Leave it.”
I turned slightly to the two maids behind me. “Tell the musicians to be ready in an hour, and that if they play the wrong anthem like last year, they’ll be playing with broken fingers.”
“Yes, your highness!” the shorter maid chirped, nearly jogging to keep up.
I pivoted sharply, heading to the rear garden, which was being transformed into a lavish banquet courtyard. “I want the silver lanterns lit by sunset. And we need six more tables, not four. Do not make me count them for you.”
I was halfway to the kitchens when I turned sharply and called out, “Lia?!”
A soft voice answered instantly, “Yes, your Highness?”
Lia appeared from around the corner, holding a basket of herbs in one hand and a wooden toy in the other. She was barely older than twenty, with warm brown eyes and a softness to her spirit that made children cling to her instantly.
“Do you have eyes on that cute, chaotic bundle of his father’s stubbornness?” I asked, arching a brow.
The maids behind me giggled.
Lia blushed and opened her mouth, but before she could answer, a tiny voice shouted, “I’m not chaotic—I’m legendary!”
Jayden popped his head out from behind her skirts, cheeks pink, eyes gleaming.
Then he threw a plastic sword into the air, declared, “To battle!” and tore off like a whirlwind.
Lia cursed under her breath and ran after him, her basket tumbling. I watched them go, my heart tightening with laughter and love.
That boy. He was a miniature version of Williams, full of life and an undeniable charm. Thank goddess, the spell worked. Jayden was safe now. The relief that washed over me was profound, a sweet counterpoint to the day's busy preparations.
I pushed open the heavy kitchen doors, stepping into a symphony of sizzling, clanking, and the rhythmic chopping of knives.
The air was thick with the rich scent of herbs, spices, and roasting meat. Copper pots gleamed on the stovetops, and an array of dishes, some still bubbling, lined the long wooden counters.
"Alright everyone, listen up!" I commanded, my voice cutting through the joyful din. "Everything needs to be ready before the Alphas and council members arrive. I want perfection from every dish!"
I rolled up my sleeves, grabbing an apron from a hook. "Now, where's that chicken? We need to ensure it's seasoned perfectly."
I was deep into seasoning a massive bowl of chicken pieces, when a guard, looking rather flustered, appeared in the doorway. "Your Highness," he stammered, his eyes wide. "The King... he sent for you."
I rolled my eyes, a faint smile playing on my lips. Williams. Always Williams. "Go tell your King," I said, without looking up from my task, "that I am performing my Luna duties in the kitchen and will be there when I'm good and ready."
The guard looked utterly mortified but nodded, backing out of the kitchen. A few minutes later, he was back, looking even more embarrassed, his face a vivid shade of crimson. He clearly hadn't been able to deliver my message.
"What does he want this time?" I asked, an exasperated tone lacing my voice.
"Uhm... Your Highness... uhm... the King said he needs you to come and perform... your wifey duties," the poor man blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper.
My face burned. Wifey duties? In front of everyone? A wave of embarrassment washed over me, immediately followed by the sound of the entire kitchen staff erupting into giggles, like school children laughing at a naughty secret.
"Alright, everyone, back to work!" I snapped, my tone stern but with a hint of amusement.
The giggles subsided, though a few stifled snorts could still be heard. "And you," I said to the guard, giving him a look that promised consequences if he relayed any more of Williams's ridiculous messages, "go back to your post." He practically sprinted out of the kitchen.
Everything was normal again, the rhythm of preparations resuming, until I felt him. I felt his presence even before I saw him, the familiar surge of power, the comforting scent of him.
I didn’t need to turn to know he was there.
The heat of him pressed into my back a moment later, his breath grazing my neck like silk dragged over flame. His hands slid around my waist, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Didn’t I say I needed you?” he murmured, voice low, thick with promise. “I’ve been patient, my Queen. But the kitchen isn’t the only thing that needs your urgent attention.”
Before I could respond, his lips brushed the shell of my ear—and his hand slipped lower, bold and unapologetic beneath my gown.
And all I could whisper was, “Not here…”
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