Page 24 of Alpha’s Hated Mate (Shifters of Clarion)

M y favorite emerald green sweater sits neatly folded in my suitcase on top of two dresses, two pairs of jeans, a pair of nice shoes, a blouse, a more casual shirt, and toiletries. I struggle to zip the bag closed.

“You’re overpacking,” Aydan says, looking up from a magazine he’s reading from my desk chair. “We’re only there for two days.”

“Easy for you to say. Your pack already knows you.” I toss a hairbrush into my backpack. “I need options for making a good first impression on people who already hate me.”

Aydan crosses the room in two strides and wraps his arms around my waist from behind. His chin rests on my shoulder, and his scent—crispness of rain and something uniquely him—envelops me.

“They’ll love you.” His lips brush against my neck. “And if they don’t, fuck ‘em.”

“That’s your brilliant plan?” A laugh bubbles up despite my anxiety. “Tell your ancestral pack council to go fuck themselves?”

“It’s worked for me so far.”

A sharp knock interrupts us. Aydan tenses against my back. “I’ll get it.”

He opens the door to Dean Fowler standing in the doorway. My stomach drops. The dean doesn’t pay personal visits to student dorm rooms unless it’s something important.

“Dean Fowler,” Aydan says. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, Mr. Vaultmore. We’re here for Miss Kamaria,” Dean Fowler says, so I approach the door. Behind him looms a tall figure dressed in royal blue and silver—the colors of the Alpha King’s guard.

“Miss Kamaria,” Dean Fowler continues. “The royal emissary has requested an audience with you.”

The emissary steps forward. His uniform gleams under the dorm lighting, royal insignia embroidered with silver thread across his chest. “Saffron Kamaria, I bring correspondence from His Majesty, Alpha King of Clarion.”

Aydan’s warm hand presses against the small of my back, grounding me.

The emissary extends a cream-colored envelope sealed with wax bearing the royal crest. My fingers tremble as I take it.

The emissary bows slightly. “His Majesty sends you his regards and looks forward to meeting you upon his arrival.”

“Arrival?” Aydan asks.

“In seven days time,” the emissary’s eyes flick between Aydan and me, his voice devoid of emotion. “The Alpha King will visit Moonhelm Academy to meet Ms. Kamaria.”

The room spins slightly. I steady myself against the doorframe.

The emissary bows again and begins to walk away, catching Dean Fowler off guard.

Before following him, Dean Fowler quickly says to us, “I’m at your disposal should you need to discuss anything afterward.”

I close the door. Aydan guides me to the edge of my bed and we both sit side-by-side.

I break the seal with unsteady hands, unfolding heavy parchment that smells of sandalwood and ink.

“Do you want some privacy, Saffron?” Aydan asks. “I can come back later.”

“No, I want to read it together.”

To Ms. Saffron Kamaria,

Recent events at Moonhelm Academy have brought to my attention your suspected lineage. Through DNA testing facilitated by Clarion’s Royal Mages and Moonhelm Academy, we have confirmed that you are the biological daughter of my brother, Prince Raphael, and Lady Natasha of Hino.

As such, you are a princess of the royal line, as well as my niece.

Despite the strained relationship with my brother at the end of his life, I loved him very deeply. As his only child, I wish to meet with you personally.

I will arrive at Moonhelm Academy in one week’s time to discuss your position and future within our family.

Your uncle,

Alpha King Leon of Clarion

My heart pounds against my ribs. The letter slips from my fingers. Aydan catches it before it hits the floor.

“The Alpha King wants to meet you,” he says with a bit of wonder in his voice.

“Oh, Goddess. Oh, Goddess. He’s coming here.” I jump up from the bed and start pacing back and forth. “A Scarlet with royal blood? He’ll want me gone. He didn’t even mention that I’m a Scarlet.”

“Maybe he doesn’t care?”

I glare at Aydan. “No one doesn’t care about being a Scarlet. Did you know that I’m next in line for the throne after his children? He probably sees me as a threat.”

“Or he wants to protect you,” Aydan counters. “He calls you family, Saffron.”

“His traitorous brother’s Scarlet bastard.”

“His niece.” Aydan grasps my wrist so I have to stop pacing and pulls me into him. “He said he loved his brother. This could be good, Saff. You finally get to meet someone from your family—your only living relative.”

“Just so he can kill me to ensure I don’t claim the throne for myself.”

Aydan shakes his head, almost in amusement. “Okay, why don’t you think about it this way? You’ll have the ear of the Alpha King himself. No one has that kind of audience with the ruler of Clarion. What if this is an opportunity for you to make a difference? You can talk to him about how Scarlets are treated. Make him see what needs to change.”

“Hmm . . . that’s not a bad idea.” I pull away, going back to pacing the small confines of my dorm room. “Fine, but we’re still going to Claymore first, right? To deal with your pack council?”

“If you want to.” Aydan stands, watching me move. “We can postpone—”

“No.” I stop in front of him. “We face your pack first, then the king. One impossible situation at a time.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “I like how you think.”

I return to my suitcase, attempting to shove another sweater inside even though it’s already full. “Great. Now, I need to make a good impression on your pack and the king.”

Aydan comes over and zips my overflowing suitcase with a bit of effort. “You’re perfect. And terrifying. And apparently royal.”

“A royal mess,” I mutter.

“My royal mess.” He kisses me, soft and sweet.

I press my forehead against his. “Two days to convince your pack I’m worthy of being your Luna. Then we race back here so I can meet my royal uncle who might want me dead.”

Aydan tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I wouldn’t worry about him wanting you dead.”

“Why not?”

“Eh, we can take him.”

The casual way he says it—like he’s commenting on the weather—makes me laugh despite everything. “You know he can shift into three different animals, right?”

Aydan chuckles. “One impossible situation at a time

The Vaultmore estate stands before us, a massive stone fortress against the fading twilight. It’s less a home and more a castle—a sprawling stone structure with multiple wings and turrets rising against the backdrop of misty mountains with manicured grounds stretching in every direction.

“This is where you grew up?” I murmur, suddenly aware of how different our worlds truly are. “Makes my grandparents’ farmhouse look like a shack.”

“Home sweet home,” Aydan replies without enthusiasm.

“So this is where little Aydan learned to scowl.” I try to suppress my awe while taking in the ancestral mansion.

A crowd of what must be household staff has already assembled outside the main entrance. A woman in her sixties with steel-gray hair pulled into a tight bun steps forward to be the first to greet us. Her posture is impeccable, her black dress crisp and formal, but her stern expression breaks into genuine warmth when she sees Aydan.

“Alpha.” She nods respectfully, eyes crinkling at the corners. “The house has been too quiet without you.”

“Mrs. Eleanor.” Aydan’s voice softens. “You haven’t aged a day since I left.”

“Always the charmer, my lord.” She turns toward me, her expression shifting to something more measured. “And this must be—”

“Saffron Kamaria,” Aydan says proudly. “My Luna and the Princess of Clarion.”

My cheeks burn at the introduction. It still feels surreal to hear those titles attached to my name.

Mrs. Eleanor bows her head—not deeply, but properly. “Welcome to Vaultmore Estate, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Eleanor,” I say, trying to match her formal tone. “And Saffron is fine.”

Her eyes assess me with the precision of someone who’s spent decades managing a household. I stand straighter under her gaze.

“Mrs. Eleanor is the Head of Staff here. She practically raised me since I was a whelp.”

“You’re too kind, my lord.” She shakes her head with a smile. “Will the Dowager Luna and Lady Vaultmore be returning soon?”

“Not yet. My mother remains at the academy, sorting out my sister’s . . . situation.”

The way she nods sadly suggests that Mrs. Eleanor knows exactly what that situation entails. “Your bags will be taken to your quarters.”

As if summoned by her words, a suited butler appears, collecting our luggage without a word.

A line of staff flank both sides of the stone stairs leading to the main entrance, bowing to Aydan with practiced reverence. Their eyes slide to me—some curious, others wary—until Mrs. Eleanor clears her throat with a pointed “Ahem.”

Their gazes drop immediately, but it’s too late. I’m an oddity here—quite possibly the first Scarlet wolf some have ever seen.

We follow Mrs. Eleanor into the mansion, footsteps echoing against marble floors and vaulted ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers. Portraits of stern-faced Vaultmores line the walls, their eyes seeming to follow me as we pass.

As we walk by, whispers flutter between the household staff like leaves in the wind.

“ . . . a Scarlet . . . ”

“ . . . his father would never . . . ”

“ . . . can’t possibly be of royal blood . . . ”

I glance at Aydan, but he seems oblivious to the murmurs. My wolf hearing must be more in-tune with Scarlet insults than his.

Mrs. Eleanor leads us down a wing of the house adorned with tapestries depicting hunt scenes and battles. “The council members have already arrived and are gathered in the main hall. Dinner will be served in an hour.”

She stops at a set of large immaculately carved wooden double doors.

“The council is eager to meet with you both. Though I should warn you, some of them are quite vocal about . . . ” She glances at me quickly. “ . . . certain matters.”

“I’m sure they are,” Aydan mutters under his breath.

Her expression softens momentarily when she glances at me and back at Aydan. “Dinner is at seven sharp. I’ll leave you both to freshen up.”

She bows slightly and disappears down the hallway, leaving us alone at the threshold of Aydan’s quarters.

“Well,” I murmur once we’re alone in his quarters, “that was only moderately terrifying.”

Aydan chuckles. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah. This is exactly what I expected.” I examine the enormous bedroom. “At least your family has good taste.”

“Saffron, if you want to skip dinner with the council—”

“Nope, I can handle this.” I unzip my suitcase with more force than necessary. “Trust me, I’ve been through worse in my life.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Neither should you. Yet here we are.” I pull out the pale pink dress I packed for tonight—the nicest one I own—and smirk at him. “Ready to face the firing squad?”