Yet, despite the breathtaking sight of the foreign kingdom, his thoughts remained elsewhere.

On him.

The vision at the river.

The soldiers had found nothing. No footprints, no trace of another presence. As if the beauty he had seen had never existed.

But he had existed.

The memory of golden skin and dripping black hair was burned into the king’s mind, refusing to fade. And that scent—faint, intoxicating—still lingered at the edges of his senses, haunting him like an unfulfilled hunger.

He clenched his jaw. He hated distractions.

And this was the worst kind of distraction.

"Your Majesty, we have arrived," a royal attendant announced.

The king straightened as his carriage rolled past the towering palace gates. He could already see the nobles lined up in welcome, their silken robes shimmering under the sun.

Evermere was a kingdom of beauty, elegance, and strict traditions. Unlike Solvencia, where power ruled above all, Evermere’s customs dictated order and restraint.

And their most sacred tradition?

An Omega's face was never to be seen before marriage.

Even now, as he stepped onto the palace grounds, he noticed the veiled figures standing among the noblewomen and consorts—Omegas, their delicate faces hidden behind layers of embroidered silk, their identities a mystery to all but their future husbands.

The king’s golden gaze swept over them, unbothered. He had never cared for such traditions. He had no interest in a mate. This was a political arrangement, nothing more.

"Welcome, Your Majesty."

An older man stepped forward—the king of Evermere himself. Though he carried an air of refinement, there was no denying the tension in his smile.

"It is an honor to host the Alpha King of Solvencia. Your presence marks the beginning of a new alliance between our lands."

The king nodded, offering only the barest courtesy. "Let us make this swift. Where is my bride?"

A murmur rippled through the gathered nobles. The Evermere king hesitated, then turned toward the entrance of the palace.

"He is preparing for the ceremony. You will meet him soon—tonight, at the binding ritual."

The Alric exhaled sharply. So be it.

He did not need to see his future mate to know that nothing would change. No Omega, no matter how beautiful or rare, had ever stirred him before.

And yet, beneath the surface of his thoughts, a dangerous whisper lurked.

A whisper of wet black hair. Of gold against soft skin. Of the one he had seen—no, the one he had felt—in the depths of the forest.

But it was impossible.

Wasn’t it?