The cobbled path wound around the edge of the palace gardens. Lanterns flickered to life in quiet succession, casting warm glows on the hedges and stone walls.
Rovan walked beside me, hands in his pockets, his face unreadable.
We hadn’t said much at first. Just walked.
Then I broke the silence.
“Elene,” I said, slowly.
He nodded once. “Yeah.”
“I mean… no one would’ve believed she wasn’t real. When she showed up as your mate, everyone thought she was from the Redfang—part of a political move. Strong bloodline, high status. And now…”
“She was a plant,” Rovan said grimly. “From your father. A test.”
“She’s my fifth cousin.” I repeated finding it still hard to believe.
Rovan stopped walking and turned to me. “I still don’t understand how none of us caught it.”
“We weren’t meant to.”
I looked at him.
He looked… different. “You passed the test,” I said, a little more softly.
“I wasn’t trying to,” he replied. “I didn’t even know I was being tested.”
“And yet you passed.”
He gave a short, dry laugh. “Doesn’t mean you know what to do with me.”
I blinked.
And then he reached for my hands.
I didn’t pull away.
His palms were warm, his grip hesitant but steady.
“Do you want me?” he asked, voice low. “Not as an obligation. Not for appearances. Just… you. Do you want me?”
The question hit like a wave. Not because I didn’t have an answer. But because I did.
I looked down.
“I need time.”
He nodded, and for a moment I thought he was going to let go.
But he didn’t.
“And your mother and sister?” I asked quietly. “How are they going to handle… all this? Me returning. Wearing a crown. Being mated to you again.”
His jaw shifted. “They’re sorry.”
I tilted my head. “That easy?”
“No,” he said. “It’s not easy. They’re not magically good people now. But they’ve seen the damage they did. I made sure they see it. And I told them if they ever tried to speak to you with anything less than reverence, they’d answer to me.”
I nodded slowly, letting that settle in my chest.
Footsteps pounded behind us.
A guard, out of breath, approached fast.
“Princess—sorry—Your Highness,” he corrected, bowing quickly. “The Council. They’re gathered. Waiting for you in the Court Hall.”
I froze. I knew what it meant.
It was time. They wanted to know if I was ready to be mated.
I glanced at Rovan once more, then took his hand again, this time with intent, and turned sharply toward the palace steps.
We strode towards the hall which was already packed when we arrived.
Council members stood scattered in tense silence, robes flaring as they shifted and whispered. Alphas lined the walls. Envoys. Heirs. Sentries. Every important figure in the kingdom stood under the domed ceiling of the court, eyes burning into me as I entered with Rovan at my side.
I didn’t flinch as I marched straight to the dais, released Rovan’s hand, and stood at the center of the room.
All eyes fell on me.
My voice rang out clear. Steady. Unshaking.
“I, Sylra Thorne, daughter of the Lycan King, hereby declare my candidacy for the crown.”
A rustle moved through the room like a startled wind.
“I claim the right to succeed the throne of Ebonhold, to become your Queen.”
Gasps filled the air because they didn’t expect this.
“I also announce my candidacy as High Alpha of the United Packs—leader of all territories beneath the Lycan Crown.”
The room went still.
Not one voice dared interrupt. Then I turned slightly and lifted Rovan’s hand.
“And tomorrow night, I will be mated to Rovan Dareth of Blackmaw.”
There was a collective inhale, sharp and shocked.
The room exploded.
“WHAT?”
Gasps and whispers filled the air as if someone dropped a goblet.
Even Rovan looked stunned.
His head whipped toward me, his hand still clutched in mine. “Wait—what?”
