The Alpha's Fated Outcast Rise Of The Moonsinger novel Chapter 252

Neriah

Thames left to greet the entourage escorting the Lycan Leader's son while I just stood in the crowd feeling lost.

The vibrant lights from the party flickered against the night sky, reflecting in my eyes. Laughter, clinking glasses and the endless, scattered conversation all over the place surrounded me, but I felt oddly out of place.

The music played softly in the background, creating an atmosphere of celebration, yet I couldn't shake the unfamiliar feeling that seemed to settle over me. For the first time ever, I was not in charge of anything at the party, which felt strange.

Normally, I would be directing servers, checking on the food preparation or ensuring the ceremonial aspects of the welcoming feast were properly arranged. Practically all the things my mother would have done if she was healthier.

Thereafter, I would stand with my stand to greet the arriving guest. And after that, I would continue managing the events and continue to serve everyone. But for some reason today, my father had specifically instructed me to simply attend as a guest.

"Your only duty is to be present and presentable," he had said that morning, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I shifted awkwardly, not quite sure what to do with myself. It was strange – almost unsettling – not to be needed. I tugged at the unfamiliar formal dress of my mother feeling restrictive compared to my usual practical attire. The sleeves were too long, constantly threatening to dip into whatever I might be eating or drinking and the neck was too wide showing the soft mounds of my upper breasts.

Massive tables lined the perimeter, already filled with game meats, forest berries, hearty tubers and freshly- baked bread. The central space had been cleared for dancing later, though now it served as a gathering area where small clusters of pack members – especially women conversed in hushed tones. Everyone seemed to be speculating about the Lycan Leader's son.

I scanned the place again looking for a familiar face. My usual friends were all occupied with duties. Even my sister, who would normally be my refuge in such uncomfortable social situations was holed up in the pack healers' quarters, receiving daily treatments.

After a while, feeling increasingly awkward standing alone, I moved to the table where the food and the drinks were and grabbed a plate. The rich aroma of the meat and baked bread filled my nostrils making my stomach rumble.

Grabbing a plate, I began browsing through the food, sniffing at a few dishes, and tasting small bites here and there.

My hand hovered near a crystal bowl filled with golden liquor. It was the specially fermented honey mead reserved for celebrations, potent enough to make even the strongest wolf's head spin.

I contemplated drinking from the alcohol bowl but I decided against it. Tonight, I needed to hold in my liquor. Whatever my father's mysterious plans were, I suspected I needed my wits about me. Sighingg, I placed the glass back down and turned my attention back to the food.

"I'd recommend the smoked venison medallions over the roasted pheasant. They are particularly excellent and perfectly seasoned with juniper berries, I believe," a smooth voice spoke from behind me. "Unless, of course, you're fond of spices. Then the pheasant might be more to your liking."