Chapter 98

MAEVE POV

And now that I was all alone in that courtyard—filled with beautiful banners that Eric and I had helped to set up—and just a short distance away from Alpha King Arlan’s terrifying form, all of my bravado vanished in the blink of an eye.

Eric was gone, and I knew that perhaps it would be wise to follow his example.

Especially while the king’s rapt attention was still strictly set on the omega servants diligently working around us.

With a silent turn on my heel, I had only taken two steps when, all of a sudden—

“You there—stop right now.”

King Arlan's voice, sharp and forceful, cut across the courtyard and into my retreating back. I froze, paralyzed with dread. I couldn’t help but notice the attention of a few omegas suddenly directed at us, not bothering to hide their curiosity. I cursed silently, my stomach plummeting to the ground.

So much for hoping to escape unnoticed.

Slowly, I turned around and ducked my head. “E-Excuse me, Your Majesty,” I stammered, eyes glued firmly to my feet, not daring to meet his cold stare for even a moment, lest I lost what little courage I had. “I was just—”

“Come here. I want to have a word with you.”

I swallowed shakily. I really, really did not want to do this, for many reasons, but it was not like I had any sort of say in the matter. The sharp, commanding tone in his voice left no room for debate.

If the alpha king wanted to chat, I had no choice but to obey.

“As you wish.”

I reluctantly straightened myself and, with a final beckon from King Arlan, followed his lead, venturing further away from the prying eyes and nosy ears of those in the courtyard. The cool air and the scent of freshly cut grass left my senses, replaced by that of the newly polished marble of the palace corridors.

He strode with confidence and determination through the halls, but my knees felt weak with every step as I approached what I thought could be my doom.

What could he want with me? I hadn’t done anything wrong, or to attract trouble of any sort.

Unless… maybe I had actually broken some rule by spending time with Eric today.

I suppressed a sigh. Whatever I needed to say would come to me… hopefully.

He pulled to a steady stop once we reached a secluded corner of the hallway, and before I could begin to say anything, he whirled around on me, gaze burning through me, and demanded: “What has he told you?”

I blinked in confusion, taken aback by his sudden presence mere inches away. “Pardon—?”

“Don’t play coy.” The sharp tone in his commanding voice made me flinch. “I saw you with him, and I know you witnessed our disagreement yesterday.”

Oh. This was about Eric.

My stomach twisted painfully, trying not to reflect on the particular word choice. Disagreements did not leave one party, bruised and collapsed on the floor, while the other towered menacingly over them.

“So,” he interjected, cutting into my thoughts, “I ask again: what has he told you?”

This reeked of that pungent tension from yesterday, which, apparently, still held the king tight in its clutches. Whatever Eric said to his father, it must have been a severe blow.

Why did it matter if he talked to me about what happened or not?

Did the king… not trust me?

That look in his eyes… simmering with something dark and hidden—it frightened me, and yet, they were that same beautiful shade of green that I woke up to every morning. The same sort of green that one might find in a forest at sunrise. That refreshing green that appears to glow when the sun hits it just right.

The sort of green that made my heart sing when I looked into my mate’s eyes.

But when I looked into the same pair of eyes in his father’s face, looming and threatening and everything that Xaden was not when he was with me… I could only feel a cold chill slither down my spine.

How could he look so much like his son and be completely different?

“He—He tells me nothing,” I stammered, balking at the king, whose glare never wavered. “I only asked him about the lunar banquets held here at the palace, and he was kind enough to tell me what he could.”

“Now, why do I find that hard to believe?” he said with a leer. “First, you managed to seduce and entrap Xaden, the brightest and most promising of my boys—”

I tried to ignore the pang in my heart. He still believed those lies about our relationship.

Would the time ever come that I might earn his approval? That I might finally have something of a father figure?

“—and, now, you mean to snake your way closer to another of my brood,” King Arlan hissed with a wave of his large hand. Even without mentioning him by name, I knew that he referred to Eric. “It’s clear you want something, and apparently you’ve become desperate enough to resort to developing this… camaraderie.” His eyes narrowed as he studied me carefully. “What I cannot determine is what exactly it is that you want.”

What I want?

“But I—” I tried to say.

“There’s no need to lie. If you are honest, I will consider leniency.”

I gulped before forcing my jaw to set, meeting his intense glare. “I’m not here to undermine anybody, not Xaden or Eric or anybody,” I said, as firmly as I could muster, which seemed to catch him off his guard. “I would marry Xaden even if he were an omega without a cent to his name… and I am spending time with Eric because I want to.”

And, for the first time since I’d met him, King Arlan was speechless.

“You commune with him for… leisure?” he questioned, his thick brows knitted tight, as if the mere thought of such a notion was incomprehensible. “Why on earth would you choose to spend all this time and effort on that boy if not to gain something?”

The way he so dismissively spoke about his own son—the same way my father felt about me—it sickened me. There was nothing a child could do that ever warranted such cruel and apathetic treatment from their own parents.

Not when we never asked to be here in the first place.

Despite myself, I felt white-hot rage begin to bubble deep in my chest, familiar and dangerous and absolutely not what either of us wanted or needed right now. Not after what happened last time we spoke like this.

So, instead of letting it explode from my mouth in the form of insults that I’d certainly come to regret, I redirected it.

Or rather… converted it into some much-needed courage.

“… Why do I need a reason to?” I asked in return, squaring up to the king. “What is so wrong with wanting to be friends with him?”

He let out a mirthless, short laugh, his expression cold and blasé. “Because that is not how this world works,” he answered, as simply as that. “Nuances aside, my royal alpha blood flows through that weak body of his, while you are still an outsider borne from a second-class pack, whose only key to my family resides in that fruitful womb,” he spat, jabbing in the direction of my baby bump.

Unconsciously, my hands flew to my belly—a weak attempt to shield my son from the king.

From his own grandfather.

I knew he didn’t like me, didn’t approve of me in the slightest. That had been well established very early on. I also knew I had given plenty of reason to believe so, but… how much longer would this distrust endure?

Was this the sort of environment my baby would one day be born into?

Not on my watch, I silently promised him, stroking my belly with my thumbs. You will only ever know love, whether it involves your grandfather or not.

But… if there was a chance to give my son the family I never had, I wanted to at least try to make it happen.

“I know it doesn’t mean anything coming from me,” I said with a calmness that surprised even me, “but I care about Xaden very much. He has saved me more times than I could ever begin to repay him for, even from my own family.”

He remained silent. Almost eerily so. Still, I dared to keep going.

“I know I’m not what you envisioned for him… but as long as he fights for me, I will do the same for him. The last thing I would ever want to do is bring shame to him, or to any of you, because…” I hesitated, flooding with hot embarrassment once it kicked in just how much I was opening up to the king, who, to my bewilderment, was still listening, “all I want is to belong in a family.”

At that, he scoffed with a not-so-subtle roll of his eyes.

“You care about Xaden,” I continued softly. “I know you do, and I’m sure he sees it, too… but there is a difference between being a king and being a father. So, I am asking on his behalf, if there is even the smallest chance you might put some faith in him. Let him show you just how amazing he is if you just… let him spread his wings and fly.”

THIRD PERSON POV

Spread his wings? Fly?

A muscle twitched in Arlan’s prominent jaw as he stared down at his son’s apparent, soon-to-be mate, who was still frustratingly unwavering in her gaze.

“You—” he muttered coldly, stiffly, “are quite bold for someone who has been here not even one month.”

Her throat bobbed—one of her glaringly obvious nervous tics. “I—I only meant—”

“I must return to overseeing the preparations.” A visibly exasperated Arlan cut her off with a raised hand, prompting her to stiffen from the abrupt interruption. “I am deciding to trust,” he said pointedly, “that you will not overstay your welcome.”

An ever-so-subtle reminder that she was still very much merely a guest in his palace.

Her face melted into a faint red, nodding in weak agreement. His message had been received loud and clear.

And with a silent, feeble curtsy, Maeve left.

He watched carefully as her small frame eventually rounded the corner of the corridor, listening as the dainty clacks of her shoes against the marble tiles grew more and more quiet with each step until he could hear nothing.

In all of his life, Arlan had never been one that was so easily swayed.

Growing up a member of the alpha royal family, he’d had to learn to be as unyielding as the strongest of mountains, lest whatever power-hungry alphas that hid within his court sought to undermine him in any way.

And then there was this girl… this quiet, terribly unimpressive girl who was too demure for her own good… who unsettled Arlan to his core. Because despite his prior warnings, and despite his fervid attempts to frighten her into submission, she would not yield.

This girl who entered the picture out of bloody nowhere, whose family Arlan had scarcely met before, whose pack he had never seen, and whose intentions he could not yet verify.

All because his son was too blinded by infatuation to let him interfere.

She was up to something. She had to be. No one ever held such power over his family like this before.

Cunning, yes. Dangerous… without question.

So why did he get the dreadful, sinking feeling that, after everything she’d just said, she had been nothing but genuine with him?

Arlan suddenly scoffed, and began his trek back to the courtyard.

To hell with all of this. It did not change the irrefutable fact that he knew to be true in his heart.

She was just a nobody. And it would take a lot more than pretty words to make her worthy of his son.