Chapter 158

Damon

I took my seat at the head of the long table, the polished surface reflecting the muted glow of the sconces.

Ten pairs of eyes watched me with a hunger that had nothing to do with the morning meal we’d just left behind.

Elder Theron was the first to speak, as expected. “Your Majesty, we believe the timing is ideal for a public announcement. Tomorrow evening.”

His voice had that steady, unyielding quality of a man who thought his words were simply fact rather than suggestion. “The Packs are restless. Your union with Lady Elena will reassure them. Stabilize them.”

Others murmured in agreement, a low ripple of assent.

“Tomorrow,” I repeated, my tone flat.

Another Elder leaned forward, his thick fingers drumming against the table before he laced them together. “Any longer, and the whispers will become doubt. We cannot allow doubt in our King’s commitment to the throne.”

Across from me, Theron’s beady eyes glinted with self-satisfaction, as if the idea had been his. “The announcement would also put to rest… other rumors,” he added, deliberately avoiding Lila’s name. “The sooner, the better.”

Zane snarled inside me, the sound vibrating low in my chest. I kept my expression still, but my nails pressed crescents into the armrests of my chair.

My bond with Lila was being spoken of like a problem to sweep aside.

I leaned back slowly, letting the chair creak just enough to punctuate the silence. “We’ve had this discussion before,” I said evenly. “You will not speak ill of Lady Lila.”

“Tomorrow is the time,” Theron pressed. His patience was wearing thin, though he masked it beneath the polished veneer of a seasoned politician. “Hesitation is being seen as uncertainty, Your Majesty. The Packs cannot afford to see uncertainty in their King.”

What they couldn’t afford was my refusal. That was the real wound they were nursing. But there was absolutely no way I would allow them to know I had already decided, or why.

“You will have your stability,” I said, my voice deliberately cool. “But the date will be chosen by the crown, not by whispers in this council hall.”

That earned a few uncomfortable shifts in their seats. A few jaws flexed. Theron’s lips pursed into a thin line.

I could feel Zane pacing inside me, urging me to rise, to end this meeting with claws and teeth instead of words. But that wouldn’t help Lila.

Theron tried again, softening his tone. “If the announcement is made tomorrow, we can align the formal celebration with the equinox. The symbolism would be powerful. Your people would see you as not only their ruler, but their restorer.”

Restorer. I almost laughed. They had no idea what true restoration meant. Not to me.

I steepled my fingers, gaze sweeping along the length of the table. “Your concern is noted. But my decision stands.”

It was the closest I’d come to outright refusal, and it landed like a blade between us. The chamber went still. I let the pause stretch until they started to shift uncomfortably.

“Unless there is another matter requiring my immediate attention,” I continued, “this session is adjourned.”

One by one, the chairs scraped back. Robes and coats shifted. The scent of ink and parchment was replaced with the faint musk of their colognes as they filed out, murmurs trailing behind them.

I watched them go, each footstep echoing like the ticking of a clock counting down to tomorrow.

The weight of their expectations pressed against my chest, but it was nothing compared to the weight of what I carried for Lila.

If they knew the truth, that the woman they dismissed was the only thing keeping me from becoming the kind of King they feared, they’d try to destroy her before the next sunrise.

I stayed seated, my hands still gripping the armrests, knuckles pale.

Tomorrow. I would give them their announcement, and then they would get one they were expecting.

Zane pressed against my mind, a low, insistent growl. We heal her first.

Yes. First, Lila. I agreed.

Then the rest of them could choke on whatever public display I chose to give.

The tension coiled in my shoulders was almost enough to make Zane burst free, but I forced him down.

I rose, pushing the chair back with a controlled scrape, and crossed to the window. The glass was cool under my fingertips.

Below, the palace gardens stretched in muted grays, waiting for spring to make them whole again.

It would be the greenhouse. It had to be. Hidden at the far edge of the gardens, behind stone walls and ancient oaks, it was the only place in this palace that would be just for us.

I could already see it: moonlight pooled across the tiled floor, the air scented with flowers that would only open under the night sky, the faint warmth of candles flickering against glass walls.

It wouldn’t be just a proposal, it would be a new beginning. The world would shrink to nothing but her eyes, her breath, her answer.

Zane stirred. Do it tomorrow. Heal her and propose to her tomorrow.

The council wanted a spectacle tomorrow night; I would follow it up with something entirely different.

I left the chamber, striding down the corridor, ignoring the guards who fell into step behind me.

I stopped only once to give an order to one of the palace stewards.

“Clear the greenhouse by sundown,” I said. “Every surface cleaned. Every window polished. Bring fresh linens and candles…hundreds. And moonflowers. As many as you can find.”

The steward blinked but didn’t question. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And send for the kitchen. I want the evening meal there tomorrow, no interruptions.”

As I continued toward my private study, Zane’s presence swelled with restless anticipation. Mark her again, he urged, his voice a low rumble. Remind her who she belongs to.

I didn’t bother denying it. “I will, and we’ll have the full antidote by tomorrow,” I murmured under my breath. “And she’ll finally mark me in return.”

I shut the door and crossed the room to the desk, pushing aside maps and reports until I found the small velvet pouch. I untied it and let the glass vial slide into my palm.

Even sealed, the antidote carried the faintest scent.

Half a cure. The other half still dangled in Ella’s claws, but I could already see Lila’s color returning in my mind, her strength rebuilding, her wolf finally free and strong.

Tomorrow night, I’d put this in her hands. I’d tell her everything; about the engagement, about the game I was playing to buy her life back.

She’d hate me for the lie, at first. But she’d live. And she’d know how far I was willing to go for her.

My thumb brushed the curve of the glass, lingering as if it were her cheek instead.

I’d carried this image in my head for weeks: her laughing freely, her gaze without suspicion. I didn’t care what the council thought, what it cost me politically, or whose pride I crushed.

I slipped the vial back into its pouch and closed my fist around it. The glass was warm from my touch by the time I set it back down.

Outside, the light was already fading. Tomorrow would come fast, and with it, the full truth. And we could finally start our future together.