Chapter 29
Joe's POV
I stormed into the palace like a man possessed, my blood still boiling from the setup. The air felt heavy, too still for how fast my heart was thudding. I didn't bother to hide my fury as I took the marble steps two at a time, my fists clenched at my sides.
And there he was, my uncle Ivan, lounging on the balcony like a smug villain from some ancient tale, a half-empty glass of wine swirling in his hand.
"Uncle!" I barked, stride covering the distance in two quick steps. I slammed my palm on the carved railing. "We need to talk," I stopped fews feets away from him.
He didn't flinch. He looked over his shoulder with that ever-calm, calculating gaze and raised his glass slightly.
"Evening, Your Majesty."
"Cut the crap. That dinner? That surprise guest? Don't ever pull that shit again."
Ivan stood slowly, set his glass on the rail, and folded his arms. "What surprise guest? I simply arranged a casual meeting. You need connections, Joe. Allies. And Perseus doesn't bring his daughter to just anyone's table."
"I don't care who he is!" I snapped. "I'm not marrying anyone. That Dinner with Jane, the so-called future wife, shouldn't happen again! Setting me up like I'm some prize at auction…" I shook my head, my voice tight. "And as I said, I have no plans to wed."
He tilted his head. "You think you have a choice in that matter?"
My jaw clenched. "Yes, I do."
"No, you don't," he said, taking a step closer, his voice dropping. "You were born with a curse, Joe. The curse of royalty. We don't get to choose. You need a wife. A Luna. Not just for the crown, but for the pack. You want to rule with no anchor? You think this is a fantasy novel where you get to sulk your way through duty?"
I froze. "A curse? Are you… serious?"
He tapped his glass. " Yes, your majesty. A lineage tradition. Without a bond of mate and Luna, your strength is hollow. Do you think your father married your mother for love?. No. They grew to love each other as they spent time in each other's company. That's the price of being royalty"
I gritted my teeth. "So I should just fall for the first princess you throw in my path?"
He smirked, and something sharp flickered in his eyes. "No. That's why I'm giving you a choice. Bring someone else, someone better, if you can. You have three days."
I blinked. "You're serious?"
"Very."
I narrowed my eyes. "Three days? You think I will just present a bride on your whim?"
Ivan laughed, slow, amused, as if I were a child upset by a riddle.
"Not a whim, Joe. It's a challenge.You have three days to find a woman of substance. Not just any wayward girl… no dilettantes. Bit Someone with a future, with blood you can stand behind."
"And what happens if I don't?"
"Then you marry Jane."
He turned to go back inside, but I couldn't let it go. "You really don't think I can bring someone worthy, do you?"
Ivan laughed, loud and mocking. "I think your entire dating history is a parade of disasters. So no, I don't. But I'd love to be proven wrong."
I scoffed, stepping forward. "I'll eat your sarcastic words, Uncle. This will blow up in your face."
He nodded,still laughing and walking ahead. "Good. Return to your quarters and prepare."
He disappeared into the hall, still laughing.
****
I went straight to my room, and slammed the door shut. Moonlight slanted through the drapes onto the polished floor. I poured myself a glass of brandy, bitter comfort and sank into the velvet couch.
Three days. My mind reeled. I needed a list.
I fetched my ledger, a leather-bound book where I always scribbled whenever I was bored, tore open a blank page, and started scribbling names.
The list was long. Way too long.
Girls I'd dated. Girls I'd hooked up with. Girls who still sent me selfies with captions like miss me yet?
But as I stared at the list, I couldn't bring myself to circle a single name.
One was gorgeous, but couldn't spell her own last name. Another was funny but thought the moon goddess was a brand of perfume. And some? They had no ambition. No spark. Just pretty faces and fast legs.
Keisha Vale: wild, reckless, no ambition.
Shantel Radcliffe: gorgeous, but shallow.
Celia Monroe: streetwise, fighting demons.
Various barmaids, pack nobility's daughters, each wonderful company but lacking… something.
And that's not all, there was more.
Anna Crestwood, sweet but naïve. Belinda Hawke, confident but cutthroat.
Not one of them had the spine, the vision, the compassion to stand by a crown.
I sat back and dragged a hand through my hair.
I wasn't looking for someone to warm my bed. I was looking for someone to sit beside me on the throne. Someone I could trust. Someone who didn't just care about the crown.
And for the first time, I realized just how reckless I'd been.
Every girl I'd been with, every choice I'd made, none of them led to someone who could stand beside me now.
My eyes drifted away from the paper.
There was only one name in my mind.
One girl.
Lily.
She wasn't perfect. But she was smart, grounded, stubborn as hell. She challenged me. And she saw me before the title ever mattered.
But she was with Mark now. Living her best life, if her little display today was anything to go by.
I'd broken happy relationships before. I was good at seduction. I knew how to ruin a bond when I wanted someone badly enough.
But this time?
For some insane reason, I couldn't do it. I couldn't be the one to tear her world apart.
And yet…
She was the only woman I wanted.
I stared down at the list in my hands, now crumpled at the edges. So many names. So many flings. And not one of them could stand beside me in that throne room.
Only Lily.
And she was already gone.