Darius~
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the cuffs of my black embroidered tunic, the golden accents glinting in the soft light of the chandelier. My reflection stared back—stern, brooding, tired. I barely recognized the man I used to be. My hands tightened into fists at my side. I still had power. I still had control. But lately… lately it felt like it was all slipping away.
"Danielle!" I barked, my voice echoing through the room. Having a useless mate like her was also part of my problems.
She appeared almost instantly, flinching as she stepped through the door. "Yes, Darius?"
"I don't want any of you embarrassing me tonight," I snapped. "The royal ball is not a damn street carnival. You'll make sure the pack members I handpicked are on their best behavior, or so help me, Danielle—"
"I understand," she said quickly, eyes lowered. "I'll take care of it."
