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Chief Gorem tilted his head at me as if waiting for me to offer up the journals. When I didn’t, he nodded once. “Very well. Perhaps we can schedule a debriefing for tomorrow. Right now, there is too much to do in preparation for your coronation.”

I blanched, my heart lurching painfully in my chest. “Coronation? I thought that wasn’t until next week.”

Chief Gorem frowned at me. “We received word that you requested to move it up.”

A strangled sound escaped me. “I—I never sent word.”

Chief Gorem scoffed and gestured to the window. “Alaric, the entire kingdom knows you are to accept the crown tomorrow at Noontide. We assumed you were the one spreading this information. We had no choice but to agree to it.”

“How could I have done that?” I asked weakly. “I was in the fae lands!”

Chief Gorem was shaking his head. “We thought you shared the information with your second-in-command before you left. It made the most sense that he would spread the word for you.”

My heart dropped like a stone, plummeting all the way down to my stomach. Yes, it would have made perfect sense for a captain to trust his second-in-command with all the information. And when I ordered Reid to take over the drills in my absence, that would have been the ideal time to tell him everything.

Instead, I ignored my duty to him as his friend and kept him in the dark.

“Reid didn’t know,” I said, my voice hollow. “No one was supposed to know. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Well, if it wasn’t you, then…” Chief Gorem stroked his chin in contemplation. After a moment, he shrugged. “I truly don’t know. Perhaps a servant was listening at the door and decided to spread the gossip. At any rate, the damage has been done, and now we must proceed with the coronation.”

“If someone else has moved up my coronation date without my approval or knowledge, then we need to find out who,” I said, my head spinning as I tried to process all this. “We can’t possibly move forward with this.”

Chief Gorem fixed a stern look on me. “The entire kingdom knows of your coronation and is expecting it. I agree, the circumstances are suspicious, but if we back down now, it will only make you appear weak.”

“But I’m not—I’m not ready.” I hated how feeble I sounded. I was a captain. A man of action. Not a spineless, sniveling idiot.

But this was more than I could handle. I was still reeling over what I’d learned about Elvira and the desperate longing I felt for Cerise. I wasn’t strong enough to face this immense responsibility. Not yet.

“You must be ready, Captain,” Chief Gorem said, his tone sharp. “Whether you planned to or not, your people expect you to be crowned tomorrow. So that is what you must do. Show them you are proud to be their new king. That you accept this burden and are eager to serve them. They deserve no less than that.”

Nausea rose up inside me, and I thought I might be ill.

“Tavik, I need you,” I thought desperately. More than ever, I needed his voice of wisdom, of encouragement and support.

But Tavik made no response.

I took an unsteady breath. Lifting my chin, I steeled myself, projecting a confidence I did not feel. My voice was steady as I said, “Very well. Tell me what I must do.”

Twenty-Six

THE WOLF

After my conversation with Chief Gorem, I stopped to see Dulsa, who used her magic to ascertain that Tavik was indeed still alive within me. The relief that washed over me nearly knocked me off my feet. Despite the uncertainty roiling through me, at least now I could breathe.

I was told to get some rest, as that would be the best way to help Tavik heal. Chief Gorem had had my belongings moved to the king’s chambers, which were twice the size of my rooms in the guest suite. When I stepped inside the massive bedroom, which was roughly the size of a ballroom, all I could think of was Cerise. Just yesterday, her rooms had been three doors down from mine in the guest wing.

Now she was gone. And I was about to become king.

To distract myself, I sifted through Elvira’s journals, just to see what I could learn. But the first few pages were written in a language I did not know. There were several confusing diagrams that were not labeled. When I finally found passages in a language I understood, the untidy scrawl was nearly impossible to read. After an hour, my head throbbed, and I shoved the journals under a pile of cloaks in my armoire, determined to look through them when my head was clearer.

For hours, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to quiet my chaotic thoughts. Before I knew it, servants were bursting into my rooms to prepare me for the coronation ceremony. Ignoring my protests, they stripped me down and gave me a thorough and invasive washing, scratchy sponges scraping me from head to toe. When I was finished, my skin felt raw, as if a layer had been vigorously scrubbed away in the process.

The coronation attire was the finest I’d ever seen. I wore a navy blue toga with satin embellishments and an intricate pattern stitched in crimson thread along the waist. A matching navy cape draped down my back, held together by a heavy gold fastener that rested on my collarbone. Etched into the fastener was a wolf sigil to honor the tribe I came from. A gleaming gold cuff adorned my left bicep, and a thick gold band was placed over my head, with amethyst stones and a large diamond in the center.

Never in my life had I seen such finery before. Even King Nolan had never worn anything like this. At least, not in my memory.

“This is… quite excessive,” I muttered as one of the servants started dabbing rouge on my cheeks.