Chapter 70

Raven

The heavy oak doors to the council chamber loomed ahead, and despite the many months of relentless preparation leading to this moment, my palms were still damp against Neil’s.

I squeezed his hand tighter, grounding myself in the warmth of his touch. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have imagined that we would have ever made it this far. Not with how fractured everything had been, how impossible peace seemed when the world was burning at our feet. But here we were.

It still blew my mind, just how different things had been six months ago. All I cared about was surviving, about keeping Neil alive.

And now… now, we had so much more to care about. Not only each other, but the kingdom, the world, our future.

Oddly enough, it felt just as daunting as the worries we’d had six months ago. Daunting and exciting as hell.

After six months of nonstop battles, hunting down and dispatching spies and traitors, peace talks and armistices, this was finally it. Today was the day that we were holding our first summit between the Lycan kingdom and the Werewolf country.

The first summit of many, I hoped.

And the first real, tangible step toward peace.

Neil, as always, caught the tension in my grip. His thumb brushed slow circles over my knuckles and he sent a gentle hum through the mate bond, a silent reassurance that I wasn’t alone. That I would never be alone again, and neither would he.

“You are thinking too hard,” he murmured, his voice low enough that no one else could hear. “We have faced far worse, Raven. This is nothing.”

I arched a brow, glancing up at him through my lashes. His raven hair fell into his eyes, longer than it had been before. The faint stubble lining his jaw made him look more like a king than the prince I had met on that beach. But there was a newfound sparkle in his eyes, and a soft smile that almost always tugged at the corners of his mouth, even during the hardest moments.

“You call negotiating peace between two nations who’ve been trying to kill each other for centuries nothing?” I teased.

There it was. His lips quirked in that half-smile I had come to know all too well. “Compared to taking a sword through the gut in front of half the kingdom? Yes. This is nothing.”

I couldn’t help the soft laugh that slipped past my lips. The weight in my chest lightened, just enough for me to take a breath that didn’t feel so shallow. “I guess you have a point.”

Neil’s hand slid from mine, but before I could protest the loss of his warmth, he rested it over my stomach. His touch was featherlight, barely a graze, but I felt it all the same.

“You’re not in this alone, Raven,” he said quietly. “Not anymore.”

My heart caught in my throat as I looked down at his hand, spread across my lower belly. The secret I’d been holding onto for days, maybe even weeks, was something fragile and new—but it was ours.

The knowledge of it burned quietly between us, unspoken but undeniable. Neil hadn’t said anything outright, but I could tell he knew. The way his eyes softened every time he looked at me. The way his touch lingered, more protective than usual.

He could sense the little life that was taking hold inside of me through the bond. We both could.

“I’m not letting anything happen to either of you,” he added, his voice just a little rougher around the edges.

I covered his hand with mine, pressing it closer. “I know.”

For a moment, the war, the upcoming summit, the crown—all of it melted away. There was only Neil and the soft brush of his thumb against the fabric of my deep red gown. The warmth of him bled into my skin, reminding me that even after everything we had been through, I was still his.

Just then, the soft creak of footsteps behind us broke the moment.

“I hate to interrupt, but you two might want to keep the public displays to a minimum,” Castor’s voice drawled from behind us. “Unless, of course, you want the entire council to gossip about the King and his bride groping each other before negotiations even start.”

Neil didn’t move his hand. If anything, his grip tightened slightly on my belly, but his smirk was sharp when he glanced over his shoulder. “You say that like they are not already talking about us.”

Castor rolled his eyes, but the glimmer of amusement there was impossible to miss. His broad frame leaned casually against the stone wall, arms crossed. At his side, Ember stood quiet but watchful, her gaze flicking between me and Neil like she was trying to read between the lines.

She always could.

“You two look suspiciously smug,” I noted, narrowing my eyes at them. “What are you hiding?”

Ember exchanged a glance with Castor, but for once, Castor didn’t take the lead. Ember shifted closer, her hands clasped lightly in front of her. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just some council rumors. Castor and I have it under control.”

I wasn’t convinced. “Rumors about what?”

Neil glanced at Ember, his expression darkening slightly. “Rogues?”

“Nothing like that,” Castor replied, waving a hand dismissively. “More like personal rumors. About us.”

Ember shot him a sharp look, and I didn’t miss the faint color dusting her cheeks. “It’s nothing,” she muttered.

I arched a brow, glancing between them. “Oh? Is there something going on that I should know about?”

“Absolutely not,” Ember said too quickly. “We are focusing on our duty.”

Castor’s smirk only grew, and Neil leaned in, his voice dropping just for me. “That sounds familiar.”

I elbowed him lightly, but the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. “Fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”

“Good,” Castor grunted, straightening. “Because it’s time.”

Neil let out a slow breath beside me. He turned, glancing up at the spear hanging over the council chamber door—a spear with a royal guard’s pendant dangling from it.

Eric’s spear.

Of course we couldn’t name Ember and Castor as our royal guards without including Eric. Even though he was gone, the title had been given to him. And nothing could ever take that away.

Before every meeting, Neil would stare up at that spear as if conversing with his late friend. It was his little ritual, but none of us ever interrupted.

Finally, he turned to me. “I guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

I tilted my head toward the council chamber doors, where I knew the emissaries of the Werewolf continent were waiting. I could almost feel the weight of their gazes from here, the tension bleeding through the cracks of the wooden frame.

The fate of our kingdom—not just our kingdom, but the entire world—hinged on what happened next.

But as I looked at Neil, at the way his eyes softened every time he looked at me, I knew we could face anything.

Together.

“Are you ready, my Queen?” he asked softly.

I tightened my grip on his hand, stepping closer so my shoulder brushed against his as the oak doors groaned open.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, my King.”