The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 20: Tides of temptation

The great hall of Lycanthria was alive with the murmur of council members. The afternoon sunlight streamed through tall windows, glinting off the polished marble floor. The scent of roasted meat and spiced wine from the feast the night before still lingered faintly in the air. The king’s brow was heavy as he sat upon his throne, and Aveloria, seated beside him, could feel the strain tightening the room.

Theron stood before the gathered council, a broad figure in armor, his posture unbending. Behind him, five of his men stood in disciplined silence, their expressions stoic. The day before, he’d arrived unannounced with fifty warriors, claiming it was for unity and allegiance’s sake. But the unspoken truth was that his presence demanded attention.

"Your Majesty," Theron began, voice steady and deep, "I bring word from the southern borders. The Wanderers are moving again. Three sightings in the last few days, young wolves disappearing, some burnt packs, and traders gone missing. It’s no longer a rumor."

Elder Toben, who sat two seats down from the king, scoffed. "And yet we have seen no bodies. These are mere tales spread by frightened scouts."

Theron’s eyes flicked toward him, a brief, measured glance that made the old wolf falter. "Tales don’t burn villages to ash," he said coolly. "My men saw the smoke. They buried what was left of them."

The room went silent. The king shifted uneasily. "Why was this not reported earlier?"

Theron’s jaw tightened. "Because my last messenger didn’t make it through. And because, frankly, Your Majesty, too many here prefer comfort over caution."

A few of the elders bristled, but no one spoke. Aveloria felt the air hum between them. Theron’s tone was not arrogant; it was the confidence of an Alpha who’d seen blood and loss too often to waste words.

When his gaze landed on her, the atmosphere shifted. For a heartbeat, everything else fell away, the hum of conversation and the weight of the court. His eyes held her like a storm waiting for release. She looked away first, pretending to scan the scroll before her, though her pulse betrayed her.

She could feel it again, the pull of their bond. It wasn’t gentle or patient like Galen’s quiet care. It wasn’t layered in regret like Marek’s. Theron’s connection was demanding. It called to something in her she didn’t yet understand.

"The border reports must be confirmed," the king finally said. "You’ll send a small team to verify the claims, Alpha Theron. No unnecessary confrontation."

Theron inclined his head but didn’t argue, even though the flicker in his eyes said he wanted to. "As you command, Your Majesty."

The meeting adjourned soon after. As the council filed out, Aveloria rose, intending to escape the press of attention. But she could feel Theron’s gaze follow her even as she slipped through the door and rushed down the path to the garden.

The garden was quiet that afternoon. The sun fell softly on trimmed hedges, and a faint breeze stirred the bushes. Aveloria tried to lose herself in the calm, but her heart refused to settle. She leaned against the stone railing that overlooked the fountain, breathing in the scent of the flowers.

She heard him before she saw him, the deliberate and sure sound of boots.

"You weren’t at the feast," Theron said, his tone carrying equal parts accusation and disappointment. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

Aveloria turned slightly. "I wasn’t in the mood for games or drinking contests."

He stopped a few steps away from her, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders tense. "They weren’t just games. They were my men’s way of showing respect to your kingdom."

"I didn’t mean disrespect," she replied softly. "I just needed space."

Theron studied her quietly. "You’ve been avoiding me."

"I’ve been avoiding everyone."

"You can’t avoid what’s inside you, Aveloria," he said, voice lowering. "I feel it too. Every time I’m near you, it’s like my own instincts claw at me. I can sense your moods and hesitation. When you’re angry, it burns in my chest. When you’re restless, I can’t sleep."

She turned to face him, surprised at how raw his words sounded. He wasn’t one to show weakness. But out of them all, he would be the one to feel her the most as an Alpha.

"Theron..." she started, but he interrupted, taking a step closer.

"Do you even understand what this bond is doing to me?" His voice was still calm, but his eyes were blazing. "I’ve fought wars with less strain than this. You keep your distance, but you haunt every breath I take."

Aveloria swallowed, trying to steady herself. "That’s not fair to blame me. I didn’t ask for four bonds."

He gave a humorless laugh. "No, but the Goddess gave them to you, didn’t she? And yet, you let that filthy rogue kiss you. You let Galen touch and be with you every time." His tone hardened, the calm cracking for the first time. "But me? You keep me waiting like a dog outside your door."

Her temper flared. "You don’t get to talk to me like that."

"Then tell me why," he said, stepping closer still, his breath brushing her cheek. "Why them and not me?"

She looked up at him, her heart pounding. "Because you scare me, Theron."

The words hung heavy between them. He blinked, the edge of his anger softening slightly. "You think I’d hurt you?"

"No. I think you’d consume me."

Silence stretched. The tension between them grew thick, electric. Theron’s breathing slowed as he searched her face. "You think I don’t already feel that way?" he said quietly. "Every time I see you, I must stop myself from marking you on the spot."

"That’s exactly why I avoid you! I don’t want to be marked."

"You don’t want to be mine."

"That’s not what I said."

"It’s what you mean."

She took a step back, her voice low. "I don’t belong to anyone, Theron."

Something dark flickered in his expression. "No, even to your mate?"