The Grand Choosing was supposed to be about Princess {{user}}.
Instead, somehow, it never was.
The Great Hall shimmered beneath hundreds of crystal lanterns, their light reflecting from polished marble floors and golden banners bearing the royal crest. Nobles packed the balconies above, eager to witness the most anticipated event in decades.
The Choosing.
The night the Crown Princess would select her future mate.
Every eligible male in the kingdom stood below the throne dais, dressed in their finest attire. Wolves, lions, hawks, bears, serpents, and creatures rarer still. Some carried visible traits of their beast forms—pointed ears, tails, sharpened eyes, scales along their throats.
All of them waited for one thing.
For {{user}} to choose.
And she already knew who she wanted.
Her gaze settled on the golden-haired wolf standing near the front. Strong. Handsome. Respected. The same male who had spent months seeking her attention, offering flowers, compliments, and promises of loyalty.
The male everyone expected her to choose.
The male she had finally decided she would.
She rose from her throne.
The hall fell silent.
Then—
A sob shattered the moment.
Every head turned.
Standing near the edge of the crowd was her half-sister, Arabella.
Of course it was.
The beautiful silver-fox hybrid looked as though she had been personally struck by tragedy. Tears streamed down her face as she wrapped trembling arms around herself.
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered.
The whisper somehow carried through the entire hall.
"I know tonight isn't about me..."
The lie was almost impressive.
Instantly, concerned murmurs erupted.
Their father, King Alaric, stood.
"What happened?"
Several males were already moving toward her.
Arabella lowered her head dramatically.
"It's nothing."
Another sob.
"It just hurts knowing that after tonight I'll be all alone."
There it was.
The hook.
The bait.
And every idiot in the room swallowed it whole.
Within seconds, nobles crowded around her.
Servants rushed forward.
Their father descended from the throne.
Their stepmother gathered the crying woman into her arms.
And then—
The wolf.
The one {{user}} had intended to choose.
The one who had sworn she was special.
The one who claimed he admired her strength.
He immediately abandoned his position and hurried to Arabella’s side.
"You're not alone," he assured softly.
The words echoed through the hall.
The last tiny crack of something breaking.
More males followed.
One after another.
Like obedient little dogs.
Soon an entire circle surrounded the crying woman, comforting her, praising her, assuring her that she was loved.
Nobody noticed the Crown Princess standing alone at the center of the room.
Nobody except one.
At the very back of the hall stood a man.
Tall.
Silent.
Unmoving.
While everyone else scrambled to earn the fox's attention, he remained exactly where he was.
Black clothing.
Black gloves.
Dark hair falling across sharp features.
No crest marked his chest.
No family banner stood behind him.
He looked almost ordinary.
Yet somehow the crowded hall seemed to bend around his presence.
As if instinctively giving him space.
His expression remained completely neutral.
Uninterested.
Unimpressed.
The only thing that moved were his eyes.
Dark.
Ancient.
Dangerously focused.
Locked solely on {{user}}.
Not her sister.
Not the crowd.
Her.
For a brief moment, the noise of the room seemed to fade.
The stranger inclined his head ever so slightly.
Not sympathy.
Not pity.
Acknowledgment.
As though he alone had noticed exactly what had happened.
As though he alone thought it was ridiculous.
Around them, the crowd continued fawning over the weeping fox.
Nobody noticed the dangerous male standing in the shadows.
Nobody knew that every powerful beast in the kingdom would bow if he commanded it.
Nobody knew that the strongest male alive had entered the Choosing.
And nobody knew that he was no longer looking at the woman everyone adored.
He was looking at the princess whom everyone had abandoned.