The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 35: His pain

Galen froze the moment the door opened. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the figure waiting right outside. His father stood there.

Beta Trovald leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a wide grin across his face.

"Well, well," Trovald said with a low chuckle, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Look who’s finally come back to life."

Galen blinked, speechless. "Father—"

"Don’t ’Father’ me, boy," Trovald interrupted, laughing heartily. "You really think I wouldn’t notice when the Heiress of Lycanthria spends two days in my son’s room?"

Galen rubbed the back of his neck, heat rising to his face. "It’s not what you’re thinking."

Trovald raised a brow. "Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly what I’m thinking."

"Father," Galen said, his voice firm but his ears betraying a faint red.

Trovald chuckled again, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, son. I’m just teasing. But you can’t blame me for being curious. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years."

That made Galen pause. He hadn’t realized it until his father said it. Something about being with Aveloria, the quiet and calm moments where he could breathe without his chest tightening, had brought light back into parts of him he thought were gone.

Trovald patted his shoulder. "Walk with me," he said.

They started down the corridor side by side. The house was still quiet, the morning sun just beginning to filter through the tall windows. Servants were starting their duties, their footsteps soft on the marble floor. free𝑤ebnovel.com

When they reached Trovald’s study, the older man gestured for Galen to sit. The room was spacious and filled with old maps, scrolls, and family relics bearing the Fenricson crest.

Trovald poured himself a drink but didn’t touch it. He turned to face his son, arms folded loosely. "Tell me, how are things between you and the Heiress?"

Galen leaned back in his chair. "They’re...good."

Trovald smiled faintly. "Just good?"

Galen hesitated, then said quietly, "Better than I could have imagined. I know many think it’s awkward, being mated to someone who used to be my friend, but I don’t see it that way. It feels like the Moon Goddess knew exactly what she was doing. She gave me a second chance I didn’t think I’d ever deserve."

His father’s gaze softened. "You really care for her."

"I do," Galen said. "But I’m not going to fight the others for her. That’s not the kind of bond I want to have. I’d rather be her peace. Her shield when she needs one."

Trovald’s chest swelled with quiet pride. "You always had your mother’s heart. Gentle but steady." He let out a small laugh. "I’m proud of you, son."

Galen smiled faintly, but the warmth in his father’s tone made something tight in his chest ease just a little.

Trovald sat across from him, the teasing replaced with a more serious expression. "Tell me something, Galen."

"What is it?"

"Does she know about your secret?"

Galen froze.

His father’s tone was calm but heavy, the kind that reached beneath the surface. "Does she know about your marks?"

For a moment, the air in the room felt still. Galen’s eyes flickered down to his hands resting on his knees. His throat felt dry. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

Trovald waited, his expression unreadable. When Galen didn’t answer, Trovald stood and walked around the desk to stand in front of him. "Let me see," he said quietly.

"Father—"

"Galen," Trovald said firmly, "show me."

Galen hesitated but eventually held out his arm. His father slowly rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Faint scars ran up the length of his forearm, some thin and faded, others newer, still pale from healing.

Trovald’s face fell. The pride in his expression drained away, replaced with deep sadness.

"You promised me," Trovald said quietly. "You promised you’d stop."

Galen couldn’t look at him.

Trovald sat down beside him, staring at the scars. His voice softened but carried the weight of disappointment. "You told me you’d never do this again, Galen. Not after everything we talked about. Why?"

Galen’s lips parted, but the words didn’t come.

"I thought you were doing better," Trovald continued. "You’ve been working, training, and leading the guards again. I thought you had moved past this."

"I tried," Galen said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I really tried."

Trovald exhaled, rubbing his face with both hands. "When was the last time?"

Galen hesitated, then answered, "Before the bond."

Trovald turned his head sharply toward him.

"I haven’t done it since then," Galen said quickly. "I haven’t even thought about it. Since I became mated to her, everything’s been...quieter. The pain that used to sit in my chest, it’s like it’s gone. Or maybe she’s just been enough to drown it out."

Trovald studied his son’s face carefully. "You’re telling me the truth?"

Galen nodded. "Yes."

Trovald sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping with relief. "Good. I don’t ever want to see new marks again, Galen. You’ve punished yourself enough for something that wasn’t your fault."

But Galen’s silence said he didn’t fully believe that.

Trovald looked at him for a long moment. "You were just a boy," he said quietly. "No one should have gone through what you did. I should have protected you better."

Galen shook his head. "You couldn’t have stopped her from rejecting me."

The words hung in the air. For a long while, neither spoke. The memory was too raw, too familiar. Trovald leaned back in his chair and looked toward the window. "You were fifteen when you met her," he said softly.

It was during the Moon Festival. They both remember how the Fenricson elders celebrated—the youngest heir in Lycanthria to awaken his wolf and find his mate before reaching manhood. Everyone said Galen was blessed.

"Blessed. If only they knew." Trovald muttered under his breath.

Galen stared down at his hands. "At the time, I thought it was fate."

Moravanne was beautiful and kind. Galen thought the Moon Goddess had chosen her for him because they were meant to grow together. He didn’t question it once.

Trovald heaved a sigh. "You gave her everything. Even before you were old enough to understand what a bond truly meant."

"I did," Galen admitted.

And when Galen turned eighteen, he and the Fenricson elders went to her pack to claim her properly. He was nervous. He’d waited three years for that moment.

"She looked different," Galen continued. "Distant. I remember how she barely looked me in the eye. I thought maybe she was just overwhelmed. But then, when the ceremony started...she stood before everyone and said she couldn’t accept me."

The quiet that followed was heavy.

Galen’s voice tightened. "She said she didn’t want a life tied to duty. She didn’t even let me speak because she was already in love with someone else." The memory of that day came crashing like it had happened yesterday.

And just like that, Moravanne turned and walked away. Everyone looked at him with pity, like he was something pathetic. The rejection had totally torn him away from his wolf. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He’d woken up every night and felt like his chest was on fire. The bond doesn’t just vanish after rejection; it burns for a while before it fades. And the marks were the only way Galen knew how to quiet the pain.

Galen looked down at his arm. "I should’ve known better than to think someone like her could ever want someone like me." He said bitterly.

Trovald’s eyes softened, though pain lingered there. "You were a child, Galen. You didn’t know how to carry that kind of pain. You shouldn’t have had to."

"I know," Galen said quietly. "But it became the only thing I could control."

The room was still for a long time. Trovald stared at the scars again, his expression pained. "You’re not that boy anymore," he said finally. "And she’s gone. She doesn’t deserve another second of your pain."

"I know that too. But it’s not that easy. You can’t just erase years of it." Galen replied.

Trovald nodded slowly. "No, you can’t. But you can choose not to feed it anymore."

Galen said nothing.

His father leaned forward. "If Aveloria doesn’t know about this, you should tell her as soon as possible. She deserves to know the truth. If she’s truly your mate, she’ll understand." Trovald said firmly.

"I will," Galen said quietly. "I plan to. I just...don’t want her to see me as broken."

Trovald smiled faintly. "Son, she already knows you’re human. That’s enough. The people who love you won’t turn away from your cracks; they’ll help you fill them."

Galen didn’t answer immediately, but he took in his father’s words carefully.

Trovald stood and walked to the cabinet by the wall. He pulled out a small wooden box and placed it on the desk. "You probably don’t remember this," he said, "but your mother gave me this the day you were born. She said it was when you needed to remember who you were."

He opened the box. Inside was a silver pendant shaped like a small crescent moon.

"She wanted you to wear it when the world’s weight felt too heavy," Trovald said. "She said it was a reminder that even darkness changes with time."

Galen looked at it, his eyes softening. "I remember she used to wear it."

"She did," Trovald said quietly. "Until the day she passed. She made me promise to give it to you when you were ready. And I think you are."

Galen took the pendant carefully, running his thumb along its smooth surface. It wasn’t magic. It didn’t hum with power. But somehow, it felt grounding.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Trovald smiled, a small, tired smile. "You’re my son, Galen. You don’t ever have to face things alone."

Galen nodded, his chest heavy but warm.

They sat in silence for a while after that. Trovald eventually poured one more glass of wine and handed it to his son. "So," he said, his tone lightening, "back to the Heiress. Will you tell me what happened in there for two days?"

Galen chuckled, shaking his head. "Nothing happened."

Trovald gave him a look. "Son, I might be old but wasn’t born yesterday."

"I’m serious," Galen said, still smiling faintly. "I’m not going to kiss and tell."

Trovald laughed. "Oh, really?"

"Let’s just say, she needed space, and I gave it to her."

Trovald raised an eyebrow. "Space, hmm. And here I was thinking my son finally found his spine."

Galen rolled his eyes. "Father."

Trovald laughed heartily again, the sound echoing through the study. "Alright, alright. I’ll stop. But truly, I’m glad, Galen. Seeing you alive again, it’s the best thing I’ve seen in years."

Galen’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "I’m trying."

"That’s all I ask," Trovald said.

He looked at his son for a long moment, his quiet, serious boy who had grown into a man carrying too much pain but who was still standing, still fighting.

"Promise me one thing," Trovald said. "No more marks. No more silence. You talk to her, or to me. But don’t go back to that."

Galen met his father’s gaze and nodded. "I promise."

Trovald smiled softly and leaned back. "Good. Now get out of my study before I start crying like an old woman."

Galen chuckled under his breath, stood, and clasped his father’s shoulder. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Trovald squeezed his arm in return. "Always, son."

Galen felt lighter, not completely healed, but steadier as he left the study. The weight beneath his skin didn’t ache as much for the first time in years. And though he still carried scars, they no longer felt like chains.