Page 55
Story: Alpha's Reborn Mate
Erik stands at my right, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert. He has been filling the role of king in my absence, and by all accounts, he has done an admirable job.
“The situation is unprecedented,” Elder Thorne begins, his deep voice filling the room. “No king has ever returned after being presumed dead for a decade.”
“The laws are clear,” Elder Blackwood interjects. “Griffin is the rightful king of the Human Wolf Kingdom. The throne is his, by blood and by right.”
“Laws written centuries ago couldn’t have anticipated this situation,” Elder Monroe counters. “King Erik has led usadmirably for ten years. The kingdom has prospered under his rule. Why disrupt what works?”
“Because it isn’t right,” Elder Vane speaks up, his voice quiet but firm. “Griffin is the firstborn son of King Alaric. The crown is his.”
“A crown he hasn’t worn in ten years,” Elder Nightshade points out. “Ten years during which he has been held captive by humans. How can we be certain his mind hasn’t been…compromised?”
The implication sends a ripple of tension through the room. I keep my expression neutral, though I feel Erik stiffen beside me.
“My brother’s mind is as sharp as ever,” Erik says, his casual tone belying the steel underneath. “If anything, his captivity has given him insights that will prove valuable in the coming conflict with the Silver Ring.”
Elder Thorne nods. “The succession. Erik, what are your thoughts?”
All eyes are on my brother, who smiles easily. “My thoughts haven’t changed since Griffin came back. I’ve always been a placeholder, keeping the throne warm until his return. My place is on the battlefield, not on the throne.”
“You’ve ruled well,” Elder Blackwood says, her tone surprisingly gentle. “The people have come to respect you.”
“And they will respect Griffin even more,” Erik replies without hesitation. “He is the rightful king. I have no interest in challenging that.”
A silence falls over the table as the elders absorb this. I can see calculations happening behind their eyes, potential alliances and oppositions forming and reforming.
“Very well,” Elder Thorne finally says. “If there are no objections, we will proceed with the formal reinstatement ceremony at the next full moon.”
My heart skips a beat at the mention of the full moon, now just over one week away. The timing is either spectacularly unfortunate or a deliberate complication from Elder Thorne, who has always been savvy about wolf traditions and their implications.
“The full moon is traditional for royal ceremonies,” Elder Blackwood notes, though I detect a hint of concern in her eyes as she looks at me. She knows about Maya, then, or she has her suspicions. I shouldn’t be surprised; little escapes her notice.
“Then it’s settled,” Elder Thorne declares. “At the full moon, Griffin will reclaim his throne, and Erik will return to his position as commander of the forces.”
The meeting concludes with formal pleasantries, each elder approaching me to offer congratulations that range from genuinely warm to barely concealed reluctance. Throughout it all, I maintain the composure expected of a king—polite, reserved, controlled.
As the last elder departs, Erik claps a hand on my shoulder. “Well, that went better than expected. Only two of them openly questioned your fitness to rule.”
“Three,” I correct him, “if you count Nightshade’s implications about my mental state.”
Erik waves this off. “Nightshade questions everyone’s mental state, including his own. Don’t take it personally.”
We leave the council chamber together, stepping into the wide corridor with its soaring ceilings and ancient tapestries depicting the founding of the Human Wolf Kingdom. The familiar surroundings still feel strange to me, like clothes that once fit perfectly but now hang awkwardly after years of disuse.
“Have you spoken with Maya?” Erik asks, his voice dropping to ensure privacy. “About the bond?”
“N—”
We turn a corner, and I stop abruptly. Maya stands in the middle of the hallway, deep in conversation with Jerry. Her hair is pulled back in a practical ponytail, and she’s wearing a pair of thick, dark-rimmed glasses that make her look—
Something dark surges in me, a ravenous hunger.
My attention is fixed on Maya as Erik slips away. When I approach them, Jerry notices me first.
“Your Majesty,” he says. “We were just discussing Maya’s return to the lab.”
Maya turns, and the sight of her still hits me with the same force it did in our shared cell—a mixture of longing, protectiveness, and something deeper I’m reluctant to name.
“Return to the lab?” I repeat, looking at her with surprise. “You’re planning to continue working for us?”
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