The Wynter representative lingered longest, making direct eye contact with me. An unspoken challenge. A promise that this was not over.
I bared my teeth at him, letting him see the predator barely contained beneath my skin. If the time came, I would rip him apart without a second thought. His strength was nothing compared to mine.
He held my gaze for a long moment. Then he turned and left, his footsteps echoing in the emptying hall.
We would meet again. And next time, there might not be enough guards to stop me.
The heavy wooden doors finally closed with an echoing boom. The throne room was empty except for my family, Aurion, and a few guards stationed at the walls.
The silence was deafening after all that chaos. I could hear my own heartbeat, still racing and ready for a fight that was no longer coming. I sagged slightly, exhaustion crashing over me, trembling. Adrenaline and rage made my body feel like it belonged to someone else.
“I almost killed him,” I said, looking at Wen. My voice was unsteady. “That man from Ebonvale. I almost ripped his throat out. In front of everyone. In front of our son. I almost...”
“I would have helped,” she said simply, cradling Killian against her chest.
“I lost control.”
“He threatened our son. You’re allowed to lose control.”
“I am king. I cannot afford to...”
“You’re also a father.” She crossed to me quickly, her free hand finding my arm. The contact grounded me, pulled me back from the edge. “Father comes first. Always.”
I pulled her close, breathing her in, Killian sandwiched between us. He seemed calmer, one of his ears pressed against Wen’s heart. Wen smelled like safety, like everything I was fighting to protect.
“What are we going to do?” I murmured against her hair.
“I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out together.”
My pup looked so small and fragile in her arms. So completely overwhelmed by a world that had just become terrifying in ways he couldn’t understand.
“I didn’t know,” Killian’s voice was barely audible. “I didn’t know I could do those things. I didn’t mean to.”
“We know, sweetheart,” Wen said softly. “We didn’t know either.”
“You did nothing wrong, pup,” I told him, caressing his hair. “Nothing.”
“But everyone’s mad at me.”
“Not at you,” Wen insisted. “Never at you.”
The doors opened again and we all tensed. But it was just Sorcha, looking worried and out of breath.
“What in the gods happened out there?” she demanded, then saw Killian’s tear-stained face. Her expression softened at once. “Oh, my sweet boy.”
“He has powers we did not know about,” I said, my voice rough from shouting.
Sorcha looked between us, confused. “Powers? But he is wolf, not witch. Wolves don’t have magic.”
“We don’t understand it either,” Wen said. “We thought he could only shift his ears and claws partially. This was... we had no idea.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “This was as much a surprise to us as it was to everyone else.”
Sorcha’s expression turned fierce. “That child needs rest and safety. Not interrogation from terrified nobles.”
Daphne, who’d been quietly standing in the corner looking shell-shocked, finally spoke. “Agreed. Get him to bed. Away from all this.”
“I’ll prepare his room,” Sorcha said, already moving toward the door.
