The Wolfs Unlikely Mate

Sitting in front of her mirror, Rivera Neon brushed her hair smiling seductively at her reflection.

The enticing scent of her lavender oil glowing religiously on her delicate skin, filled the air.  

Her fingers moved with precision as she shaded her brows with pale blue.    

Carefully, she drew stars at the corners of her eyes, making them bold and more inviting.    

Her red glossy lips complemented her eye shade as she pressed them together, blending the color seamlessly.  

As she admired the outcome, a satisfied smile played on her lips.    

Her thoughts drifted to the evening ahead. Tonight was her family's dinner banquet at Falcon Hills.  

Normally in Gandon, warlords hosted banquets after conquering another empire, but now, celebrations were discreet as the Overlord had forbidden open festivities.

Here were the Neon's indulging in the veto.    

Attendance was private, limited to non-rival Lords in the province.  

Her clan was highly placed, belonging to the 5th of ten divisions. Ranking 2nd in their division, boasted large mercenaries, vast resources and wealth.  

With a beauty like hers, she knew she'd be the spotlight of the event, but there was Mira, her stepsister.    

An unavoidable product of low birth.  

The cook's daughter, whose existence Rivera always pricked at.

Well, a second was not mediocre, still the spotlight anyways.  

A frown settled on her face as she thought of her plus one. Never would she have imagined being married to a commoner as a reward ; more like being sold out.    

Her face turned all red as she relived her hatred for him.  

She should be out there, married to a top warlord bachelor, prolly Foster Hawk.  

Her man before she was sheepishly married off, whose family ranked 1st in the 3rd division.  

They were just many better options in the marriage market to choose from.  

But here she was, of all the ranks, married to the lowest of the low.  

 Taking a deep breath for beauty, she muttered "If only Father hadn't sold me out to that fool of a husband".    

She heard familiar footsteps through the door, and her back stiffened.  

"Talk of the devil," she scorned.  

"You've already announced my foolishness countless times, Riv," came a masculine voice from behind.  

"Unrelated, but I must say, you look stunning tonight."  

The expression in his warm hazel eyes sincere.  

She smirked indifferently, keeping her gaze still on the mirror.  

Rivera Neon was married to Midas X, a roadside swordsman from a small town in the outskirts of Gandon, who protected travelers from marauding bandits alongside his crew.  

He had helped her father, Lord Neon Lucas, years ago during an insurgent conspiracy.  

An attack from the inside left Lord Neon a bit vulnerable as the enemies were fully aware of their tactics, sword skills and strategies.    

Midas and his crew had fought alongside Lord Neon, defeating the attackers with unpredictable moves, taming them by beheading.    

Neon Lucas, a prominent warlord, had led a motley crew of brutal mercenaries, conquered seven rival territories in his time but died a few weeks after Rivera's marriage, harboring a chronic disease.  

Placing his coat on the dragon chair, lacquered brownish-blue and gold.    

Midas X bounced on the thickly swollen master size bed.    

Adorned with silken sheets of gray and deep oxblood.    

Placing his big, strong arms behind his head.    

He watched her feign disinterest in his presence.  

Utterly focused on her beauty, she kept busy, ignoring him.  

There was nothing to really touch up per se but she just had to keep busy, triggering him was a go.  

With deliberate grace, she dipped her elegant fingers into the exquisite ornate box of lavender oil.  

Feeling the cool silky touch of each stroke, she caressed her back gently.  

Methodically slothful.  

Thoughtfully, she readjusted her décolletage to emphasize her cleavage.  

Revealing her succulent ample bosom, a little more.  

As she applied more gloss on her red lips, she briefly shifted her gaze to Midas.  

He frowned, knowing what she was doing.  

Leading him on, to a blunt demise.  

Wasn't the first time.    

He was naturally drawn to her as his wife, it was a legitimate feeling after all.  

Their marriage had lasted two years but had never been consummated.    

Tormenting him was her fun.  

He got out of bed, walking toward her, somewhat in satisfaction to her intention.  

Her face brightened, anticipating his approach.  

Drawing near. Closer and closer.  

He was now all in her face.    

Without caution, she slapped him. "Don't you dare touch me," she snapped, pointing a finger at his face.  

"You bas...."  

Ignoring her drama, he leaned in, picked out a strand of wool entangled in her hair.  

"There you go" he said easily.  

"What?" she blanched, soaking it in.  

Rubbing the slap-spot on his cheek, he assessed her briefly.  

"You're annoying, it's catching.  

Turning away, he departed, surprising Rivera.  

She felt her teeth grinding.  

Irritation crept into her, more like raging than creeping.  

She hurriedly stood up, striding toward him.  

"Move!" she commanded, shoving him.  

Her touch had no effect on him as he was balanced with virility.  

However, he stopped, allowing her to brush past.  

He watched her reach the door, her ego evident in her steps.  

"Listen here."  

"You might as well not show up at the banquet.  

"It is already enough to share a chamber with you."  

"It's a big night for us. We don't have to be associated with a soppy prick like you out there as well."  

"Don't you think?"  

"I.." he began, but she cut him off by shutting the door.  

An ocean of satisfaction washed over her.  

He shook his head, a faint trickle of annoyance slithering through him. Then he sighed.

 ----------------------------------------------     

Gleaming white light shone brightly in Falcon Hills. It was the Neon's signature building.    

Like other top-ranked Lords in the province, they marked their territory with impressive structures.  

The first three parts of it's interior were unremarkable, disguising the opulence beneath.  

The underground look was a lavish affair, a stark contrast to the main outlook's intentional dullness.  

Shipping their secrecy.  

Just in case rival spies hovered, for a go-tell.  

Loud chants echoed as warriors raised their goblets in salutation to victory.  

"To a step higher," Arthur Neon, eldest son of Lord Neon, declared.  

"To a step higher," everyone repeated, chugging their drinks and stamping their feet in unison.  

A warrior's ritual, maybe.  

The top warlords present took turns making toasts to the domain.  

The atmosphere was filled with lively chatter, chugging and chugging again.  

New relationships were forged among guests.  

Many initiated conversations with warlords who over ranked them, hoping to win over an alliance or establish habitual acquaintanceship.  

The event was equivalent to a wedding reception, culminating in a joyous feast.  

During the feast, the Matriarch, Olivia Neon, Lord Neon's wife announced gleefully, "My dear Arthur is representing our territory for the Overlord's equerry position."  

"Mom, you didn't have to make it grand." Arthur snapped in blatantly, running his hands over his face.  

"I know the position is mine, we'll belong to the 1st division soon."  

"And why would you think it'll be you?" Lord Frederick interjected, laughing.  

"My son will certainly be the equerry."  

"It's obvious you can't handle such a role.  

"It's not a bribe, don't be so sure." A warrior shouted.  

"Such power can't be committed to just anyone." Lord Nathan scoffed at Arthur.  

"It goes to who outranks whom."  

"You clan just ranks 2nd in the 5th, do better.  

The other warlords began spilling their own thoughts and claims.  

The merry atmosphere was soon spun out by a hurricane of disagreements and protests.  

Of course, everyone wanted the Overlord's equerry to be from their territory, as it'll kick in an higher approval rating for an alliance with the Overlord himself.  

Who wouldn't fight for a chance to have a place with the Overlord?  

Gallons of tea with his parishad, still you wouldn't get a peek of the great Lord Xzander.  

A tablet was sent to all the top warlords ; ranking from 1st to 5th in each division.  

Called the Oregon Pass, it included a memo for each territory to select a representative for the equerry.    

The chosen one would stamp their crest at the center, with the forepersons of that territory placing a blood thumbprint around it in agreement.  

The Overlord's equerry was like the right-hand man of a king.  

"No one's interest is disturbing," Lord Fox, 1st ranked Lord of the 9th division, stated without batting a lash.  

"It's known, in terms of armaments and skills, I top the list."  

Zephyr Neon, the second son of Lord Neon, applauded mockingly.  

"An unbelievably impressive acclamation of weaponry."  

"May I erase your lack of knowledge."  

"The Neon's mercenaries are an absolute death machine, but that's by the way."    

"Contextually, an equerry needs brains more than brawn."  

"It's obvious their clan lacks there," Arthur added concurrently.  

It got heated up.  

Ranting and ravings.  

At a lone ghosted corner sat Midas X, watching through the entire scenery.  

Thoughtfully, he stood up.  

Walked to the buffet, picked up a goblet of wine and headed to the center in loud steps.  

Raising up his goblet, he clinked it till the uproar lessened. Earning their attention.  

His neatly tied brown hair spilled over his broad shoulders, unable to coax the beauty of his masculinity.  

Rolling his strikingly calm hazel eyes among the masses, he spoke.  

"Gentlemen, it's not a thing of argument.  

"It's a matter of betterment to outwit every rivalry and stand a solid chance of winning the Overlord's choice."  

"In toast to the victory of my wife's clan, I have a viable initiative that should be considered by them or anyone of interest."    

"I..."  

"Who is this man?"  

"Son of who?" Lord Fox roared cutting him off abruptly.  

"Oh this.." Rivera responded tartly, wagging her fingers at him.  

"A nobody Father brought in as my husband."  

She stared at him, sprouting with rage.  

She hated his confidence. Hated his beauty, his entire being.  

Had he lost his mind showing up?  

Most of the guests stared at him with irritation, offended by his effrontery to interrupt the Lords.  

"Let me disabuse you of the idea that your contribution to this conversation is in any way welcome." Arthur snapped.  

"Know your place and rot in it."  

His eyes flamed with anger.    

He had never liked Midas.  

Midas was too low and crude, yet Father brought him into the clan, breathing the same air.  

"Who dared you, young fellow?" one of the Lords voiced.  

"You interrupt an honorable banter, blabbing without fear."  

"Goblet-clinking for attention as if you are something." Arnold snorted, folding his arms.  

He was the Neon's oldest cousin.  

"You always embarrass me, househusband." Rivera puffed out.  

"Being nothing. Doing nothing."  

"Just leeching off and crossing boundaries."  

"Floor men and always doing recklessly too much, 5&6." A warrior chipped in casually, opening a wide path for stones of insult thrown at Midas.  

As horribly offended as he was at the hurl of insults, even from his wife, he ignored his irritation.  

"My apologies everyone, I didn't mean to come off as disrespectful." he bellowed.  

Shifting his gaze briefly to Arthur and back to the gathering, he spoke again.    

"I really do have a solid counsel if your kind hearts will grant me a hearing."  

 Zephyr bursted into heavy rounds of laughter, soon followed by the majority, laughing him into frustration.  

An ocean of embarrassment washed him cold and rough.  

"A dog really must be tamed" Foster Hawk scorned, crossing his legs as he enjoyed the roast.  

He was the grandson of Lord Hawk, fearfully known as the invincible Captain.  

Grudging deeply ever since his betrothed was taken away by this low man.  

"For someone with no background or power, you really are something, thinking anything you spit out will be feasible." Zephyr grimaced.  

"You're quite pigheaded, you'll never beat that allegation." Isabella, Arthur's wife, added, eyeing him.