2. Royal Wedding
"All rise! His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen will now enter!"
Everyone in the room stood and bowed ninety degrees as the ruler of the Kingdom of Avendelle appeared by the door; walking on his left side was his newly wedded wife, the Queen of Avendelle.
They march on the red-carpeted floor, accompanied by the lively music that is only allowed to play at a royal's wedding. The king had his eyes straight on the throne at the end of the red path, surrounded by his relatives, constituents, delegates, and representatives from the neighboring countries who got invited to that imperial wedding.
Everyone was delighted and cheered for such a harmonious celebration of a fated union between the king and the new Queen, except the man standing at the corner of the room, leaning on the wall while his arms were languidly clapping. He was observing the unfolding events with a bored look on his face.
His striking visage was feasted on by the young ladies who kept stealing glances at him, opening their fans and waving them in their faces, hiding their graceful and alluring smiles. This act meant 'flirting,' a noblewoman's way of showing interest in a man and willingness to engage in a flirtatious exchange of conversations or perhaps inviting a dance.
But the man was like a statue, exhibiting nothing but a stony expression in his eyes, ignoring the palpable flaunting of their cleavages and even furrowing his brows out of annoyance from the intense and flirty stares from them.
His well-defined jawline clenched as he glared at them with his grey eyes.
'I don't like their smells, ' the man thought inwardly. He focused his gaze on the king, who was in the middle of his speech, pretending to be attentively listening.
Prince Azer scanned the banquet hall with his cold eyes. The stench of humans seeped through his nose, and it irritated the hell out of him. If it hadn't for fulfilling his duties as the second prince of the Leymar Kingdom, a neighboring kingdom of Avendelle, he wouldn't have even considered interacting with them.
Above all, the pretentious display of exchanging insincere pleasantries and their fastidious appearances hurt his eyes. How could they even move comfortably with badges, sashes, heaps of skirts, and petticoats?
Prince Azer couldn't help but compare his kingdom's women to them, shrugging his shoulders at the thought that fabrics would be scarce if they wore clothes like them, as their clothes got ripped when they shapeshifted.
"Hello, dear sir."
A young woman was brave enough to approach the intimidating atmosphere surrounding Azer and seductively smiled at him.
"The night is lovely, and the music sounds perfect for a sweet dance. Don't you agree, my lord?" The woman asked and batted her eyelids to him, slightly parting her lips to make her look sensual and alluring.
Azer replied as if he had not even considered her words, "No. I do not."
The woman gasped at his blatant decline; she opened her fan and hid half of her face behind. The upper part of her cheeks immediately tinged in red.
"O-Oh! I see. Excuse me, then." She exclaimed and scurried away.
Azer glared at the eyes that threw him a contemptuous look. They were mad and envious that such a beautiful woman dared to approach him and even indirectly invited him to dance. And yet, what he did was embarrass her.
But Azer doesn't care about any of that; he wants to simply retire for the night or, at least, escape from that room.
He had already congratulated the king and Queen and even personally presented his gift. The food was delicious, but he had already eaten his fill, and he had no interest in participating in any kind of dance.
Finally, after the newlyweds decided to retire for the night and enter their wedding chamber, the guests were also allowed to return home and rest.
As representatives of another royal family, Azer, and his companions temporarily stayed in one of Avendelle's palaces.
After a long day of greeting and exchanging political talks with the other kingdom's delegates, he expected to fall asleep as soon as he lay in bed. But unfortunately, sleep seemed to evade him.
He rose and gazed out the window at the moon peeking behind the clouds. The wind blew gently, and his black hair swayed with it. His thin lips pressed together, and irritation etched on his face.
Due to sleep abandoning him, his mind couldn't help but wander to the night before he went to Avendelle…
"Try meeting different people, Azer. If you couldn't find your mate here, perhaps she's on another side of the planet or another kingdom."
Azer's older brother, Adin, the crown prince of Leymar, suggested that he attend Avendelle's royal wedding.
Initially, the invitation was addressed to the crown prince's name, but he was so busy with his duties that he couldn't find time to attend, so he informed his acceptance letter that the second prince would attend in his stead.
Azer frowned at his brother's words. He remained silent as he couldn't refute him.
Normally, werewolves, a kind of human that shapeshifts into a wolf, find their mates when they reach the coming-of-age ceremony at the age of twenty-one.
Anyone anticipated his union with his fated partner. Unfortunately, the night of the ceremony had ended, and he did not feel any connection to all the young she-wolves who attended his twenty-first birthday.
The worst part was that six years had passed already, and he was still a lone wolf. He had already tried traveling to many places to search for his Luna, but the results could have been more fruitful. It was as if the moon goddess was deliberately hiding his mate from him, and it came to the point where he asked her what he had done wrong.
However, the goddess never answered.
The night was still long, and boredom crept inside Azer, so he decided to jump from the balcony of his room. The room was on the third floor of the palace.
Azer landed on the balustrade of the room below him, and he jumped again to the ground. Luckily, no one could spot him sneaking out, even his people. He went behind the palace and headed to the forested area.
His steps were quick even if he was in human form, and his dark and large build was hidden from the darkness. He swiftly leaped out once he reached the tall back gates of the palace, and he landed on the solid ground beyond.
Patting his knees, he scanned the surroundings. A street as wide as a court illuminated by a lamp post greeted his sight. There were no carriages, perhaps because the night was already late. Standing on the edge of the isolated street alone, Azer pondered where he should go next.
'Why did I even sneak out?' he asked himself, learning how weird it was to stroll down the street in the middle of the night.
His footsteps had no direction, and he just went and followed the light he saw in some close establishments. Some stores near the palace are high-end restaurants and different kinds of boutiques.
He strolled further to the end until he reached simpler and humbler surroundings.
The lamp posts flickered beside benches; their light wasn't as bright as the one at the front of the palace. Even the road could have been smoother and more tidy.
Azer noticed the light emanating from an alleyway. His feet moved in that direction as if something was pulling him.
The narrow street was dark at the entrance. Garbage bins obstruct half of the road, and he was able to dodge stepping on the litter because of the light coming from an establishment a few meters away.
The signboard blinked red and flickered, lighting the letters written in crude writings.
"Fenrir's Den…" Azer mumbled. He furrowed his thick eyebrows at the word, as it was the name of one of the great wolves that ever existed in their race. But why would such a name be used in that human kingdom?
He strode past the signboard and peeked inside the glass window, noticing the small sign on the corner that said 'open'.
Azer decided to enter, but his movement halted as he suddenly felt his skin tingled from an unknown force, as if something enveloped him, sucking him inside. His heart began to race faster and louder.
His grip on the metal doorknob of the establishment tightened as he recognized familiar sharp eyes staring back at him in the reflection of the glass door. However, the color of the eyes was different from his.
It was golden! The eyes of his wolf told him his mate was nearby!
His pupils dilated, joined with his rasp breathing. He smelled a scent that almost made him crazy from an inexplicable craving.
Azer hurriedly opened the door. As the scent was coming from inside, he scanned the room frantically like a child who had lost his guardian on the street.
The few people who were still drinking noticed him and murmured to themselves, but Azer ignored them and instead went to the door next to the stairs.
"You can't enter inside, sir!" the counter clerk shouted, garnering the attention of all the customers.
Azer ignored the warning and pushed the door with force as if something was behind it that he desperately needed to find.
A long and dark corridor greeted him. Doors were on both sides and even without checking, Azer could tell what those bedrooms were from the moans and soft whimpers he could hear.
His jaw clenched tightly, and veins popped on his face.
'No…' His wolf growled inside, furious at what he found. 'Not here.'
He continued to step inside, shrugging the hands of the clerk who pulled him back. He threw him a deathly glare, making him unable to stop him any further.
He ran towards where the scent led him, his heart racing for another reason.
At last, his feet stopped before another door. It was the farthest door in that corridor, and he felt somehow relieved that he didn't hear any sound from beyond at all. He held the knob and pushed the door open, and it revealed a dark alley again.
Azer stopped by the open door.
His eyes widened as he sniffed the air. The scent disappeared!
"This can't be…" He helplessly uttered. He stepped out and paced back and forth, but the scent was no more.
"Damn it!" Out of disappointment and annoyance, he kicked the garbage bags on the street, and the waste scattered, permeating the air with a completely different odor.
Azer didn't know whether to be grateful that his mate wasn't working inside, pleasuring other men, or punch the wall for his unluckiness. She was already nearby, and yet he still let her slip away!
He was going to kick another garbage bag when he noticed a shadow behind the door he had left open. Someone's silhouette was seen from the lights in the corridor, which peeked in the gaps between the door and the floor.
He closed the gap with his giant and hurried strides, then flung the door, closing it back. The only source of light in that dark street disappeared. But Azer didn't need any light to perceive that the figure was a human, as wolves have better vision even in darkness and the scent in the air.
It was the scent of a human.
A girl was crouching down, her back against the wall painted with ugly words; her head was buried on her knees, covered by her thick, long, wavy auburn hair, and her body was trembling. Azer took a few steps back and calmed himself before hurling a question at her.
"Hey, why are you hiding?"
His low and resonant voice echoed in that dark, narrow alleyway, making the girl flinch and shake harder.