Chapter 67

TWO.YEARS.LATER.

Killian

The applause from the crowd filled the room, and I kept the triumphant look on my face for an extra minute. At a word from the woman on the side of the room, the flashbulbs died out and the photographers went back to their seats.

I stepped back from the podium, and took my measured steps across the stage and into the darkness of the theater wing. I took a deep breath, exhaling the politician and inhaling again to come back to myself. It was crucial to separate the public from the private, while still being open to my constituents and their needs and concerns.

But after two years as leader of the Alpha Alliance, I had developed a routine to keep my inner life safe in order to serve others. One cannot pour from an empty cup.

And most days, I still felt empty. We had just passed the two year mark of Elena’s disappearance, and it still felt fresh every day. It hurt even more to know that she hadn’t left much behind in the house before she left it.

The charred room was renovated and a few items salvaged, but even when decorated like the old one it never had her essence. The note she had left me was on my mirror, and I kept her words in my heart with every step I took. It was her love and her memory that made me want to be a good man, a good leader.

And deep down, in a place that I keep under lock and key, I maintained my hope that she was still alive and we would be reunited someday. She visited my dreams, and it felt so real that I was sure she was still out there.

I lit a candle for her, every night, just in case her spirit needed a way to find me. I just had to be patient, trust in Fate, and let our paths converge when the goddess deemed us willing.

“Well done, Killian,” Kana said as I exited the stage door into a back hallway. “I think it was tactful but truthful. The man's certainty left an impact, but we can be honest that we are better off since he’s died.”

“Since he was murdered,” I corrected her.

She waved a hand at me. “Semantics,” my publicist responded, “either way, with Toro gone we can uphold our promise to keep the region safe. And since you’re in charge, you get to take all the credit.”

“It’s not like I poisoned him,” I said, sighing. Toro had been taken down by the same poisonous herb that killed Graham, the prisoner Elena helped to heal. I knew the implication of the coincidence, but kept my mouth shut when asked if I had a suspect in mind.

Natalie didn’t deserve much, but I could give her that.

“Anyway, now we keep looking ahead,” Kana continued, flipping through her phone. “The Lycan and Werewolf Coalition Conference is coming up, so let’s keep this momentum and secure a win there. For now, take the day off.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder, and her face showed the sincerity of a longtime friend. At this point, she probably knew me better than anyone.

“Thanks, Kana,” I said, smiling. “Let’s touch base tomorrow.”

“Sure thing, boss,” she said, knowing that I dislike that honorific.

That night, I dreamed of Elena. She looked just as she did, but more joyful than I had ever seen her. She offered me a large fruit from somewhere in her dress, and I cradled it like a child.

Elena

Liana earns her namesake as she climbs up the leg of my chair, trying to reach the summit of my lap. She was named for the sturdy climbing vines of our backyard forest. I bent down and wrapped my hands around her tiny ribs, helping her with the last push up and over onto my thighs.

There she stood, Princess of everything in sight. We had been in the garden for most of the morning. After the morning visit to the chickens to gather eggs, she would sit in her high chair with wide eyes and an open mouth as I scrambled her breakfast.

It was introducing eggs that finally got her off my breast, just over a year after she was born. I was glad she did it herself, but I might have let her nuzzle and feed from me for years if she wanted to. I treasured the moments when she and I were attached, which was usually how she preferred to be as well.

Mistrustful of most men, Liana would happily clutch onto the female staff in the house or a friendly neighbor and trust that they would carry or guide her. When she started walking, I finally knew what real fear was. Luckily, the village that was raising her was the safest place in the world.

But there was one thing missing, and I dared not to say it out loud.

Killian.

Even thinking his name sent a tremor of longing through my body and made my heart leap in my chest. As if understanding her mother’s anguish, Liana turned back from looking around and put her hand over my heart.

Her eyes were a light pink, her skin pale but not quite white like her mother. She had some of his olive-tone, and her eyebrows were coming in darker than her blonde wisps of hair.

“Da?”

I almost cried as she babbled the syllable at me, most likely the easiest one to make with her new teeth. But even so, I took it for a sign and pulled her into me.

“That’s right, sweetie,” I said into the top of her head, “Da.”

A noise from behind us got Liana’s attention, and I turned to follow her gaze. My mother, the Queen, stood outside.

“Daughter,” she said, a serious but pleasant expression on her face, “it is time.”

A meeting was scheduled to discuss the upcoming conference with the Werewolf Alliance. I had an inkling of what could happen there, both for my people and for myself.

“We will be assigning emissaries to go on behalf of the Lycan assembly,” Martius, my mother’s top aide, was saying, “and it would be good to represent the royal family and its allies.”

There was some small chatter around the room.

“Can we be sure this is a good idea?” Char was on the side of the opposition. “We’ve never needed their help before, why invite them in now?”

“This isn’t just about us,” the Queen spoke up, rising, “but for the betterment of all kinds in the future. I, personally, have felt the stigma and judgment for my relationship with my husband, and he died fighting for us. Perhaps if we had better relations with our neighbors, such tragedies could be avoided in the future.

“Hear, hear!”

A voice in the pack led others to show their support.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Maritus said. “Now, I’d like some nominations for emissaries, and we can choose from there with a blind vote if we need one.”

Eyes shifted around the circle, but no one spoke up. It was like Fate was leaving the door wide open for me.

I raised my hand.

“I’ll go.”