Page 23

Chapter

Twenty-Two

K YSON

I question everything, absolutely everything, except one thing.

She is not broken. No, my Queen is resilient, maybe more so than me.

She wears her trauma like jeweled armor and camouflage, yet I see her.

See her determination and strength and at first I thought that would be our downfall.

Yet watching her as she sleeps, I realize how wrong I am.

I am so used to being the Alpha King, yet with her I can be Kyson and nothing more, and she would have me. Even after what I put her through.

No matter how many times I tore her down wanting her to submit to the bond, and to me, she came back more determined to prove I couldn’t break her.

She has more scars than men of war and she wears them as if they are jewels of her mercy, which is something I saw as weak.

Even now, it angers me that she can forgive Ester and her son, that she can set them free despite what they took from us.

Despite how they nearly killed her and us.

Azalea is able to forgive the unforgivable and remain pure of heart despite hers being broken repeatedly, so harshly I’m surprised it still beats.

My Queen saw past her anger and chose forgiveness and understanding while I only craved blood and revenge.

Yet looking at her now, I realize it doesn’t make her weak; it makes her strong because it shows her capacity to forgive and keep going while I have been stuck in a past I no longer want part of.

Seeking vengeance, yet seeking that, I became as lost as the dead, stumbling blindly in an abyss and living in limbo. It’s me who’s weak here, not Azalea.

It was never about setting them free; she set a piece of herself that was broken free too - allowing herself to move on from the torture - showing them she isn’t a monster like them.

She isn’t a jealous, vengeful cold-hearted killer; no - she is far more than that - she is a Queen.

And a Queen is someone who puts her own desires and wants behind her to protect her people, despite them almost ruining her, she saved them because they are her people.

Ester is a mother, and having had her own child ripped from her, she wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone, not even her enemy.

Azalea breaks, then picks herself back up and keeps going.

I guess that is one thing I can thank Mrs. Daley for; she made my Queen indestructible and I am beginning to realize I don’t need to covet her away to keep her safe.

What I need is to unleash her, stand beside her, and watch as she brings our enemies to their knees.

And she will, for she is a Landeena; she is the Empress of Lycarnia.

She’s my biggest contender; she’s also my redemption, and she’s mine to cherish.

I brush back Azalea’s hair as she sleeps - a whimper escapes from her lips and a tear slips down her cheek.

“Hush, my love,” I whisper tenderly, brushing a gentle finger against her cheek as I marvel at her grace as she sleeps.

Curiosity tugs at my mind, wondering what dreams plague her subconscious.

What fears haunt her even in sleep? Does she not realize that I would willingly lay down my life for her without a second thought?

That I would protect her at any cost? As Azalea stirs restlessly, her heart rate quickening, her fingers digging into my ribs where she seeks the bond, I can’t help but feel a pang of concern.

Leaning closer, I press my lips against hers in a feather-light kiss, smoothing her tousled hair with gentle fingertips.

Just as I am about to rouse her from the clutches of her nightmare, she gasps, clutching her chest and frantically scanning the room.

My gaze follows hers, searching for the invisible enemy that seems to torment her.

Her claws extend and a low growl reverberates through her as I pull her closer, cradling her against my chest. She is still trapped within the confines of her dream; not fully awake.

Allowing my calling to seep into our bond, I urge her to wake. And she melts against me, finding relief in the safety of my embrace. “What is it, my love? What has frightened you?” I purr softly; my voice laced with the desire to calm her as she sobs in my arms.

“She didn’t do it,” she whispers, and a wave of relief floods our bond alongside profound sadness. With heavy breaths filling the room around us, I listen intently as she continues speaking.

“She didn’t Kyson...I saw it clearly...She didn’t do it...You have to believe me,” she pleads, attempting to free herself from my grasp and sit upright.

Gently cupping her face in my hands, I meet her gaze.

“I believe you, my love. I believe that you believe your words. We will find a way to uncover the truth.” Drawing her closer once more, I hold her tight against my chest, offering reassurance amidst the storm of emotions that threatens to engulf us.

“I can prove it...Cedric was there...I heard him,” she reveals; her voice filled with a mixture of grief and vulnerability.

My brow furrows in confusion. Cedric? Why is she dreaming about him? “Heard what?” I ask, needing clarity from the tangle of her nightmares.

“I heard Cedric...She was trying to tell him something...I remembered...I remembered that night,” she confesses; her voice cracking.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” I murmur soothingly, my fingertips gently wiping away the traces of tears that stain her cheeks. But before we can delve deeper into the revelation, the door bursts open, causing both of us to startle.

Azalea jolts upright, her eyes wide while I slide her off me and rise to my feet; a growl rumbling forth at the intrusion. It is unlike Dustin to barge in without permission, and his presence only adds to the tension that hangs in the air.

“My King,” Dustin begins urgently; his voice laced with urgency, “Elder Larkin has arrived. He demands the return of his son.”

Anger simmers within Azalea palpable even as she hastily wipes away tears and stands up; dream-induced fury fueling resolve. Oblivious to lack of clothing, she storms towards the door leaving poor Dustin momentarily stunned as he averts gaze; eyes fixed on ceiling.

“Azzy, my love,” I call out to her drawing her attention as she glances back over shoulder.

“You need to put on some clothes before you confront him. I won’t allow you to face Larkin in such a state unless you want me to remove his eyes from his sockets,” I chuckle softly; a hint of amusement coloring my voice.

She looks down, realization dawning upon her as eyes widen and with a hurried squeak, she rushes towards the closet.

I can’t help but laugh softly at her flustered state reaching for my pants as she calls out to Dustin.

“Dustin?”

“Yes, Azalea,” he responds promptly; his eyes still on the ceiling.

“Have someone find Cedric while we deal with Larkin,” she commands, determination shining through her words. Dustin glances at me for confirmation, and I nod in agreement.

“You heard your Queen,” I tell him, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips before he hurries off to carry out orders.