Wolf

The first thing people noticed about him was his smile— not because it was warm, but because it lingered a second too long. The Velvet Court was not a place for mistakes. Everything in it was precise. Measured. Intentional. Even the air seemed curated—perfume layered over magic, over something older that no one spoke about anymore. He didn’t belong here. It wasn’t obvious. Not at a glance. He wore the right clothes, stood where he was supposed to, held still when stillness was required. But there was something off in the way he watched. Too focused. Too aware. He stood near one of the pillars, half out of the light, a glass untouched in his hand. Conversations moved around him in soft currents—laughter, negotiations, veiled threats wrapped in silk. None of it held his attention for