Chapter 144

Damon

I didn’t bother changing out of my armor. I wanted them all to see the blood still drying on the leather. Let them smell the sweat that clung to me like a second skin.

I walked into the council chamber without ceremony, without a word, my boots echoing like war drums against the marble floor.

They wanted a King? Here I was.

The room stilled as I entered. Elders in ceremonial robes turned, pretending to conceal their discomfort at the scent of battle. A few nobles flinched as I passed, their nostrils wrinkling.

The old warriors among them hadn’t seen a battlefield in years. Most of them never had. But they all had opinions.

I reached the center of the chamber and stopped, standing up to my full height and looked at them, one by one.

Jackson stood to the side, watchful. Ronan was off seeing to the injured and I hadn’t asked him to come. I didn’t need my Beta for this.

A minor Lord cleared his throat first, as expected.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “You’ve returned victorious. The southern ridge holds. The Rogues have scattered. We… commend you.”

Commend. The word tasted bitter.

I nodded once. “Losses?”

“Minimal, considering the scale,” he said. “But significant enough to cause concern.”

Theron stepped forward. “It’s not the victory we question, my King. It’s what comes next.”

I let him feel the pressure of my Alpha power.

“The rogue king’s presence—whoever he may be—has shaken faith in the court. Packs are unsettled. Trade will slow. Morale and confidence… decreases.”

More silence from me.

Spurred on by Theron another spoke up from the back, quiet but sharp: “The kingdom needs reassurance. Something visible. Something permanent.”

Here it comes.

“A political union,” Theron continued. “To reforge unity. To steady the Packs. A noble daughter. A strong female wolf with bloodline and reputation to match your station.”

They didn’t look at each other as they spoke. They looked at me. Testing.

“You’re suggesting an alliance by marriage,” Jackson said.

The mask of civility cracked with Theron’s impatience as he snapped, “It is tradition.”

“I already have a mate,” I said flatly. My body didn’t move, but my jaw locked.

Theron smiled, thin and calculated. “With respect, my King… the mark has not been confirmed in ceremony. And the Lady Lila, while showing moments of bravery and appeal, lacks the lineage for legitimacy.”

Something shifted in my chest. Cold and violent.

“She has more strength in her than all your daughters combined,” I said, voice low. “And she has nothing to prove to any of you.”

A few nobles glanced at each other. But Theron pressed on.

“It’s not about proving anything,” he said. “It’s about the necessity and stability of the station of Luna. The Packs need confidence. And symbols matter.”

No one mentioned my bloodline and I knew they weren’t sure. Yet. But they suspected. And this… suggestion, was their warning.

I stepped forward a step, letting my shadow fall across the table.

“I held that ridge with warriors who didn’t care whose blood I carried,” I said. “I bled beside wolves who didn’t ask if my mate had a title. They followed because I led. And didn’t break.”

Theron opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a look.

“I will consider your recommendation.”

That was all I gave them. A hollow concession. Nothing binding. But it would have to be enough for now.

I turned and walked out before they could press their luck. My armor groaned with each step. My knuckles were still raw from the blows I had dealt.

The door to my study shut behind me with a satisfying thud.

I didn’t feel victorious. I felt cornered. And a cornered wolf is a dangerous thing.

I let the rage build like I hadn’t since Natalie died. They wanted me leashed, but they’d forgotten I can’t be.

I wanted to claw something, the hum of battle still too fresh in my body. I paced and when that didn’t calm the storm inside me, I gave in a shredded the chair.

And when the worst of my rage passed, I stood by the window instead, watching the courtyard below shift from gold to grey as dusk settled in.

My armor had been stripped off hours ago, left in a heap on the floor. My hands were clean now, but they didn’t feel it.

I could still see the blood on them every time I closed my eyes. Not just from the ridge, but from all the choices I’d made.

The council’s words echoed around in my skull: A noble union. A symbol. A leash.

I’d spent a lifetime training my way to the throne, bleeding for it, sacrificing every scrap of softness in my soul to keep it.

And now they wanted to shackle me with tradition. To erase the mate I’d chosen because she didn’t have the right blood in her veins.

If they only knew I didn’t either.

They didn’t understand. Lila wasn’t my weakness. She was the reason I hadn’t fully become the monster they already believed me to be.

And now I was losing her.

The distance between us had stretched. It was measured in the looks she no longer gave me. Questions I didn’t answer. Wounds I didn’t see forming until they were already scarred.

I didn’t blame her.

But I wasn’t ready to let her go. I didn’t think I ever could.

I crossed the room to the desk and opened the drawer with a flick of my wrist. Inside, tucked beneath an old correspondence scroll, was a small vial wrapped in velvet.

The poison.

The same one Ella had used. The same one that had stolen Lila’s wolf.

The antidote existed and I knew it Ella had it. She knew how to fix what she had broken. She just hadn’t been made to care.

That was about to change.

I pulled a blank parchment toward me and dipped the quill into ink.

The summons was brief. Direct.

Ella,

By royal command, you are to present yourself to me within twenty-four hours. Refusal will be taken as an act of treason.

HRH Damon Sinclair,

Lycan King.

I sealed it with wax and my signet ring and handed it off to the nearest courier.

If she came willingly, good. If not, she would be executed after a thorough interrogation for her treason.

She’d poisoned what was mine, and I had no intention of asking her nicely to undo it.

My gaze shifted back to the window. The stars were just beginning to show, one flickered slightly then vanished behind a cloud.

It made me think of Lila and the way she seemed to be slipping away.

Zane stirred, slow and uneasy. You’re running out of time, he said.

I know.

We have to fix this, he added, more quietly.

I turned from the window and reached for the second letter I’d started drafting. This one wasn’t sealed.

It began with her name.

I stared at the words until the ink dried. The beginnings of war had taken enough from me. And I wasn’t letting it take my mate.