The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 24: The Awakened She-Wolf

At the first light of dawn, King Alaric found her. He had been restless all night, something pulling at him deep in his chest. A howl that had split through the silent hours before, one that carried a strange familiarity. It wasn’t just any wolf’s cry. It had felt tied to him somehow, to his blood.

He had shifted, following the sound in his wolf form until his paws led him into his private forest. The air was still damp, the scent of earth and dew thick. Then, she was lying at the base of an old oak, naked, covered in dirt and grass. His heart sank and lifted at once.

"Aveloria..." he whispered as he shifted back, kneeling beside her.

Her breathing was shallow but steady, and her skin was cool but not lifeless. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his chest tightening at the sight of her.

There were no wounds on her, only faint traces of silver fur on the ground where she had lain, shining softly in the morning light. He reached out and touched it; it glowed faintly beneath his fingertips before fading into nothing.

He exhaled shakily, realization dawning.

"She did it," he murmured, a smile breaking through his exhaustion. "She finally did it."

He lifted her gently into his arms and began the walk back toward the palace. She was light, fragile, her head resting against his shoulder. But beneath that fragility, he could feel something different, a bustle of strength and power radiating faintly from her skin.

By the time he reached the palace gates, guards had already gathered, alerted by his scent and the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Fetch the physicians, prepare the chambers now!" He ordered sharply.

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

The guards hurried off. The king carried her through the great hall himself, ignoring the curious stares of servants and council members. When he laid her down on her bed, he turned to the maids and attendants crowding the doorway.

"Tell everyone," he said. His voice carried pride and relief. "My daughter has claimed her wolf."

And with that, the palace erupted in whispers and movement. Within an hour, word had spread across the entire kingdom.

"The heiress has shifted."

"The Moon has finally blessed her."

"They say her wolf is silver as the light itself."

Excitement filled the air. Some celebrated openly, others whispered about what it meant; the power that would come with her awakening.

Meanwhile, in her room, Aveloria lay unconscious but peaceful. Her breathing was steady now, her skin warm, and color slowly returned to her face. The physicians checked her pulse, temperature, and heartbeat, and all agreed she would wake soon.

Outside her chambers, two men stood guard, Marek and Galen.

Marek’s expression was tense, his hands clasped behind his back. Galen stood beside him, more composed but equally alert. The two had barely spoken since dawn, but their shared purpose was clear; no one would enter that room without a good reason. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

"She shouldn’t have gone out alone," Marek muttered quietly, more to himself than to Galen. "If something had gone wrong—"

"But it didn’t," Galen interrupted. His tone was calm, steady. "She did what she set out to do."

Marek shot him a glance. "You’re awfully calm for someone who says he cares about her."

"I’m calm because panicking won’t help her."

Marek scoffed but said nothing more.

A few moments later, Rowena appeared at the end of the hall. Her eyes were red, her expression soft and teary. She clutched a silk handkerchief in one hand, her steps small and hesitant.

"Marek," she said quietly when she reached them. "May I see her?"

Marek looked uncertain. "The king said—"

"I know," she cut in, voice trembling just enough to seem genuine. "But I’m worried. She’s my sister. I want to see her, even for a moment."

Galen looked at her for a long second before glancing toward the closed door. "Two minutes," he said finally. "No more."

Rowena nodded quickly, her face lighting with relief. "Thank you."

She slipped inside the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Inside, the room smelled of herbs and candle smoke. Aveloria lay still on the bed, her lengthy hair spread across the pillow. The sight of her was pale but beautiful, making something twist in Rowena’s stomach.

She strolled to the bedside, her eyes tracing Aveloria’s face. Her lips curled into something close to a smile, though her eyes were cold.

"You always have to be the perfect one, don’t you?" she whispered under her breath. "The chosen one. The blessed one."

Her hand slipped into her sleeve, pulling out a small vial of dark liquid. She uncorked it quietly, glancing once at the door. Then she leaned closer and poured a single drop onto her fingertip.

"Sleep, dear sister," she murmured. "Just a little slower this time."

She brushed her hand against Aveloria’s lips, letting the drop of poison fall into her mouth. Aveloria stirred but didn’t wake.

Rowena smiled again, sweet, practiced, and false. She wiped her hand on her dress and leaned down, kissing Aveloria’s forehead gently.

"Get well soon," she whispered before straightening her gown and walking calmly to the door.

When she stepped out, Galen looked at her. "How is she?"

Rowena blinked rapidly, forcing tears back to her eyes. "Still sleeping. But she looks peaceful. Thank you for letting me in."

Galen nodded curtly, and she walked away, her soft sobs echoing down the hall.

Not long after, the palace gates opened again. The guards announced Alpha Theron’s arrival. He strode into the courtyard flanked by two of his men, his presence commanding enough to draw attention from everyone nearby. When he heard Aveloria had shifted and collapsed, he came without hesitation.

Theron didn’t bother waiting for formal permission to enter the palace. When the guards moved to inform the king, he was already heading down Aveloria’s chambers.

When he reached the chamber hallway, his eyes fell immediately on the two men standing guard. His jaw tightened.

"Marek. Galen."

Marek crossed his arms. "You’re not supposed to be here."

"I’ll decide that," Theron said flatly. "She’s my mate. I have every right to see her."

"She’s unconscious," Galen said evenly. "The king ordered no one to enter without his approval."

Theron took a step forward, his voice deepening. "I don’t need his approval. I need to see my mate."

Marek moved to block his path. "Then you’ll need to get through me first."

Tension filled the corridor. Theron’s men shifted behind him, ready for command. Galen raised a hand, stepping between them.

"Enough," he said. "This isn’t the time. She just shifted. She needs peace, not you two tearing the walls down."

Theron glared at Marek. "You think I don’t care about her?"

"I think you care more about proving a point," Marek said.

Before either could react, the doors at the end of the hall opened sharply.

King Alaric stepped out, his expression stern and commanding. "That’s enough!"

Both men stiffened immediately, lowering their gazes in respect.

"What is the meaning of this noise outside my daughter’s chamber?" the king demanded.

Theron straightened. "Your Majesty, I came to see her. I meant no disrespect."

"And instead, you nearly started a fight in my corridor?" the king snapped. "You will wait until she wakes. All of you will."

Marek stepped back. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Galen nodded in agreement.

Theron hesitated, his jaw tightening, but then nodded slightly. "Understood."

The king’s expression softened only slightly as he glanced toward the door. "She will wake soon. The physicians say her body is recovering quickly."

He turned back to the men. "Go. Rest. When she’s ready, I will summon you."

They all bowed their heads. Theron lingered for a moment longer before walking away, his frustration barely contained. Marek followed quietly, his expression unreadable. Galen stayed behind, standing once again by the door.

King Alaric briefly placed a hand on his shoulder before leaving.

When the hall finally fell silent again, Galen glanced toward the door. He could feel the faint pull of his bond through it. Aveloria’s energy was weak but alive, drumming slowly like a heartbeat.

"Hold on, you are safe now," he murmured.

Inside the room, Aveloria’s breathing slowed again. The poison was working, though not enough to kill, but enough to keep her weak. Her wolf stirred beneath the haze, restless but unable to break through.