It was almost time for the sun to rest for the day. Weak rays passed through the window curtains, which were being pushed by the wind.
As if driven by a mysterious presence, they went straight to the infant on the floor, which was wailing its lungs out — that was bad given that it had only been born a few hours ago.
The woman who had just given birth to it stared at it with hatred. She was the one who knocked it to the floor. She was unhappy – with it, with herself, and with what had just happened.
Unfortunately, the door was locked. The midwives, whom she had chased outside, were urgently knocking, hoping she would open the door so they could care for the infant.
They knew she was unhappy with it. Nobody in her position would be—especially after giving birth to something like that. They kept knocking, imploring her to open because their lives depended on it.
She fooled them. She had requested for a moment alone, saying she wanted to welcome her baby privately. They went to inform the King about the news then she closed the door and locked it.
She almost used her claws to end the infant's life. Just as she was ready to, she heard her mother's voice reverberate in her thoughts, halting her.
'I honestly don't understand why I should keep this curse, Mother.'
'That curse will hold your position until you give him what he wants. I'm not expecting you to love it; only keep it alive,' her mother replied.
They were using the mindlink, which is the fastest means for werewolves to communicate.
'I can't take its face. I waited nine months for this. Do you know how much I bragged to the first wife? She will not leave me alone, Mother. Her laughter will kill me.'
'That's better than nothing. She holds nothing. At least you gave birth to something,' her mother said forcefully. It appeared to work. Her claws have changed back into human hands.
After saying goodbye to her mother, she gave the baby a gentle kick before heading to the drink cabinet.
Strong liquor would help her stay sane.
Now all she wanted was to separate the infant's head from the body.
After taking a sip, she stepped to the door and opened it.
"May we, your Majesty?" The midwives kindly asked. She nodded, waving them in and asked them to shut the curse; it was giving her a headache.
She didn't dare to ask what the King had said. She already knew the answer. When she remembered the King, her heart skipped a beat with fear.
She had no idea how she would face him now that she had failed him.
He might behead her or may give her the traditional punishment: a beating, if she's lucky. Regardless, she was in trouble... big trouble, all because of that curse, which her mother had prevented her from ending.
***
The palace was big - a kingdom within itself. Another enormous chamber was far away from the room where the tension was seething.
The shelves were piled with ancient scrolls and thick leather-bound books, indicating that this was the royal library.
Inside, the air was thick. There were a lot of men there—if not twenty, at least ten.
Royal healers, seers, witches, council members, regional Alphas, and even Lycans. Everyone gathered, looking through pages and whispering in nervous tones as they looked for an answer that most likely did not exist.
They were all terrified. For a reason.
"I see no purpose to keep any of you alive if you fail to complete this simple task," the Alpha King's voice reverberated from the front of the room. The already tense crowd flinched at his words.
Some lowered their heads even farther, while others switched pages quicker, assuming the answers would surface if they stared hard enough. They knew, though. They all knew. There was no answer.
No scroll, prophecy, or ritual in their collection could explain why the Moon Goddess had once again denied their King.
The Alpha King sat balanced in his throne-like chair, legs crossed, holding a crystal glass of whiskey in one hand. A servant kept his cigar nearby and delicately lifted it whenever the King leaned forward to puff.
He was quietly seething.
Why had the Moon Goddess forsaken him in this way? Not only had she refused to gift him his rightful mate, but she had also denied him the one thing every powerful Alpha desired: a son… an heir.
A future for the crown.
The crown had been passed down through generations.
From his great-grandfather, who took it from the Lycans, to his grandpa, and then to his uncle, who ruled while his own father was still too young. Finally, it came to him—the one his uncle had considered worthy.
Yes, his forefathers did not have true mates either. They, like him, had married their chosen ones. But their chosen mates bore them sons. But him… even after reaching a third wife, he still didn't have an heir.
Yes, she has given birth. But it wasn't what he wanted. She gave birth to a useless she-wolf rather than an alpha.
He took a cautious sip of his drink when a voice echoed in his head: his Beta, mindlinking him.
'Have you found her?' The King inquired immediately, hoping.
'I'm sorry, King. It's the queen.'
'What about her?'
'She wanted me to remind you about her brother-in-law's visit. They are on their way, as we speak.'
'Shit.' The King cursed beneath his breath. He almost forgot.
His second wife had acted more as an ally than anything else.
She was out there with his Beta, assisting him in his search for his true mate by carrying his scent and detecting weak traces of her existence. Hosting a meal for her sister and brother-in-law was the least he could do for her.
'We can postpone it if you're not in the mood,' his Beta said gently.
'No, I am. Just get here,' the King answered, cutting the link short.
He stepped up and addressed the room coldly: "I'm leaving for now. But, when I return... I expect an answer. If I don't get one, five of you will die tonight." He exited the library.
He remained silent as he strolled through the palace hallways with guards at his sides. His look is unreadable.
Just as he was ready to enter his chambers, a servant hastily bowed to him.
"Your Majesty… your guests have arrived."
He didn't slow down: "Lead them to the dining room. I'll join them shortly." He stepped inside his room, stripped off his formal coat, and headed to the shower.
After cleaning up, he dressed in something fitting for dinner – not overly regal, but still sharp. He looked at himself once in the mirror.
Still a King. Still cursed.
He clenched his jaw and tried to reach his wolf, Lucan, who had been silent for hours.
'You animal,' the King growled inside. 'You think ignoring me will bring your mate?' However, there was no reply.
Lucan had been increasingly distant. Frustrated and angry.
The wolf had waited ten years for his true mate. All the wives, all the rituals—none of them were her. Lucan was aware of the situation. The King was well aware of the situation.
He gave up on the quiet talk and exited the room. His guards stood steady and trailed behind him.
They strolled together toward the royal dining hall. But just as he reached the door, a scent hit him.
A deep, earthy smell. Like rain-soaked soil. Raw. Ancient. Divine. It wrapped around his senses before slamming into his chest, stealing his breath.
His head throbbed. His heart pounded. His wolf howled in his mind for the first time in days.
'There.' Lucan growled and the King followed the scent without hesitation.
His feet proceeded unconsciously, weaving through guests until he came to a stop next to a young woman standing near the Luna of the Shadow Hunters pack.
She dressed modestly. A servant's apron clung to her petite figure. Her head was bowed, same as everyone else in the room.
Nobody looked up when the Alpha King walked in. It was the law – it was terror – it was a habit. But he didn't care about the rules at the moment.
He leaned out and gently lifted her chin.
When their skin met, electricity surged through his veins. Sparks. Real. Undeniable.
His crimson eyes met hers, blue and full of buried agony. She was the one. After many years... 'Mine,' he hissed, his voice tinged with raw possession.
A silence descended over the room. Silent gasps frozen in throats, too terrified to speak or breathe aloud.
Everyone understood what it meant.
Everyone knew how much it cost.
The King had finally met his mate. But she was only a maid. No, not just a maid, she was a broken girl with a cursed past.
Rejected. Twice by two dominant Alphas. And now… the king had claimed her. He declared her his. However, he couldn't accept her without consequences.
Not according to werewolf tradition.
She could not be Luna Queen. Not after two rejections. Not after serving them at gatherings. But she was already rejected twice. A third rejection would result in her doom!