Four Months Later
My stomach churned with a mix of nerves and excitement as I stood beneath the enchanting arch of waterlilies and cherry blossoms. Each petal seemed to shimmer with life, a masterpiece crafted by Chiara herself. Leonardo stood beside me, his arm firmly linked with mine, offering silent strength as I leaned into him for support.
The pure white flowers, initially met with doubt, had exceeded expectations. Their delicate fragrance mingled with the subtle aroma of tulips, orchids, and peonies scattered throughout the courtyard. This space, once unremarkable, had been transformed into a dreamscape for the grand ball I had spent months meticulously planning.
From atop the long staircase, Leonardo and I surveyed the results of tireless efforts-mine and countless fae who had contributed to this night. The courtyard, sprawling and vibrant, pulsed with life, temporarily making me forget the crowd gathered below, their eager eyes fixed on us.
This ball was my creation, from the guest list to every petal of the decor. Graziana and Noemi had been instrumental, introducing me to an array of assistants and helping Leonardo and me navigate the intricate world of High Lord and Lady. The castle itself was a labyrinth of shifting alliances and veiled intentions-a constant challenge of deciding whom to trust and how much power to concede.
Rather than host the event in one of the castle’s many ballrooms, I chose the larger stone courtyard. My vision was clear: a celebration of spring’s dominance, a reminder that winter would not return anytime soon. Wildflowers, both stunning and dangerous, blossomed in clusters, while thawed waters glistened in the rising warmth.
Our first guests of the evening stepped forward, though they hardly counted as visitors, having stayed at the castle for over a month. Lavinia, glowing in a gown of gold and cream, radiated a warmth that matched the life she carried. Her chestnut curls framed her face, dusted with a golden shimmer that accentuated her high cheekbones.
Beside her stood Attilio, his pale eyes alight with joy. His powder-blue tunic was trimmed in gold to complement Lavinia’s dress, a symbol of their union despite wielding power over opposing elements. My heart swelled as I watched Lavinia place his hand tenderly on her rounded belly. Their connection, deepened by the true-mate bond, rendered the world around them almost invisible.
It was Attilio and Lavinia who had unraveled the enigma of the wall. Week after week, Leonardo and I would press our hands against the misty barrier, feeling its unyielding magic. Then came the day when a young man stepped through-a rare event that set everything into motion.
The wall, impervious to us before, shimmered beneath Leonardo’s touch. It rippled as if recognizing him, allowing his hand to pass through. Without hesitation, I grasped his hand, and together, we crossed into the human realm. The vibrancy of our fae world faded, replaced by muted tones and hidden magic, but our focus sharpened on Attilio and Lavinia.
We soon discovered the truth: it wasn’t our magic that had allowed us through but the presence of Attilio and his Luna. Their bond, their essence, had granted us passage. Weeks later, the couple made a monumental decision to relinquish their titles, leading over two hundred werewolves through the barrier. Just as Leonardo and Carlo had done, they gave their packmates a choice: settle in a fae court or return to the human realm.
Many found new homes across the Water, Earth, and Air Courts. Andrea welcomed newcomers with open arms, while Delfino, ever cautious, agreed to attend the ball and see the changes firsthand.
Descending the staircase behind Lavinia and Attilio was Chiara, a vision of elegance in her emerald gown. Her dress revealed smooth, sun-kissed skin and teased glimpses of her long legs through its daring slit. Following her were Noemi and Graziana, their pale lilac and rose dresses adorned with tiny flowers that bloomed in their platinum hair as they moved.
The Isabella of old would have balked at such an entrance-descending a grand staircase under the gaze of hundreds. Yet here I stood, adorned in a gown of silken silver that hugged my curves and left Leonardo looking as if he might lose his composure altogether. The weight of expectations surrounded me, but so did admiration and awe.
Leonardo’s scent, salty and familiar, grounded me. His presence, a vast ocean, both calmed and consumed me. As we descended, his voice brushed against my mind with a teasing note: “Don’t think about falling down the stairs.”
I stifled a laugh, keeping my expression composed. His icy eyes met mine briefly before returning to the crowd. “Think about all the wine and food you arranged tonight,” he added, his voice lowering, “and what I plan to do once this ball is over.”
The shimmer of my dress trailed behind me like rippling waves, but it was Leonardo’s words that set my pulse racing, a promise that lingered in the air between us.