He Wanted Me as His Mistress, So I Divorced Him for a Lycan Prince novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Toast
At the harvest gathering Dalton presents his fated mate and offers Eloise the mistress's room, so she signs the Stone Book; the Lycan prince steps forward to claim her.
The harvest gathering was held in our pack hall, with two hundred wolves at long tables and the visiting prince seated by the door.
I was still counting the night's costs when my mother-in-law found me behind the dais.
"Hold still, dear."
She tugged the silk scarf at my neck straight and smoothed the knot flat.
"There. Perfect."
My mother-in-law had given me that scarf the week I married her son.
I had worn one every day for six years, and no one in the pack ever asked why.
My husband had never once looked at my neck.
I had noticed that around our second winter, and I had stopped noticing around our fourth.
"He says tonight is only a toast," she said. "Nothing to worry about."
She patted my cheek and went back to her seat.
Savannah brought me a cup of tea before I could sit down.
She had joined the pack three weeks ago and had already learned how I took it.
"Hattie says you skipped lunch again," she said, and pressed a ginger biscuit into my other hand. "Eat."
I ate it.
Across the hall, Lucan Thorngate sat with his coat still on.
He was the crown prince of the Lycans, and he had come over the pass for our autumn treaty talks six years running.
Everyone here called my husband Dalton Hartridge, Alpha of Ember Ridge, and me the Luna.
He watched me over the rim of his glass, then looked at the table.
Dalton climbed the dais and tapped his cup against the Alpha's stone.
The hall went quiet.
"Friends," he said. "Tonight I'm blessed twice."
He held out his hand toward the tables.
Savannah stood and walked up to him in her pale yellow cardigan, and he took her by the waist.
"The Moon Goddess has given me my fated mate," he said. "Savannah Crowe."
A hundred voices started talking at once.
Somebody clapped, then stopped when no one joined in.
I stood where I was, holding my teacup.
Dalton found me in the crowd and smiled the smile he used on the elders when he wanted a signature.
"Eloise, you've been the best Luna this pack could ask for," he said, loud enough for the back rows. "That won't change. You'll have a room in the east wing and your seat at the accounts."
He turned to the pack.
"My wife will stay with us as my mistress. Savannah has agreed."
Savannah looked at the floor and did not say a word.
I felt Odessa's eyes on me from the front table.
I felt two hundred more.
For six years I had balanced this pack's books by lamplight while Dalton's wolf slept through the winters.
I had written the charter that gave him the right to stand up there.
I put my cup down on the dais step.
"Hattie," I said. "The Stone Book, please."
Hattie was already coming through the crowd with it held to her chest.
She set it on the clerk's table in front of the dais and opened it to the page I had written myself.
Any Luna may end her marriage by signing here before witnesses.
The Alpha's name is not needed.
Dalton laughed.
"Eloise, don't be dramatic."
I took the pen from Hattie.
"You told two hundred people I would be your mistress," I said. "I'd like the same two hundred to see my answer."
"Sit down," he said, quieter. "We'll talk at home."
"I'm not going home with you."
I signed my name.
Eloise Garrow, and under it the date.
I set the pen down, and the ink went dark on the page.
Something heavy let go of my chest.
Dalton's face lost its colour.
"You can't," he said. "It's a formality. You wouldn't."
"It's done."
Behind him, Savannah put both hands over her mouth.
Odessa half rose from her chair, then sat again.
Nobody moved.
I stepped back from the table and found my legs would hold me.
Then a chair scraped at the far end of the hall.
Lucan Thorngate stood up and walked between the tables, and every wolf he passed leaned out of his way.
He stopped in front of me.
He was a foot taller than me, and his eyes were the colour of rain on slate.
He had never said a word to me that was not about borders.
"The ink is dry, Eloise," he said, low enough that only the front tables heard. "You are free."
He put his hand over his heart.
"So I am done waiting," he said. "I claim you."
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