A King's Jealous Vow

The immediate contrast between the stifling, body-heated atmosphere of the gathering hall and the crisp, biting night air was a massive relief to Kaelen’s senses, but his focus remained entirely consumed by the female walking beside him. He did not immediately drop his hand from her waist. The physical contact was an absolute necessity for his inner Lycan, a searing point of connection that flooded his veins with a heavy, possessive warmth. Every step they took away from the noise and the prying eyes of the sycophants felt like a small, private victory. However, the unanswered question from Alpha Castor’s remark still burned a hole in his mind.

As soon as they were a safe distance from the grand doors, Kaelen shifted his gaze down to her side profile. "Why didn't you sleep last night?" he asked, his deep voice slicing through the quiet night. He kept his tone carefully measured, suppressing the demanding growl that his animal wanted to release.

Roxana didn't miss a beat. Her gaze remained fixed straight ahead on the gravel path leading toward the guest lodgings. "Border duty," she answered simply, her tone entirely devoid of complaint or exhaustion.

Kaelen’s heavy brow furrowed deeply. The sheer casualness of her response threw him off balance. "How is it that you had border duty the night before you were bound to travel across the continent to a royal summit?" he pressed, his confusion mingling with a sudden, sharp edge of protective irritation. He was the King; he knew exactly how pack logistics operated. A warrior selected for a royal escort was practically mandated to rest.

She offered a slight, dismissive shrug, the movement causing the fabric of her dress to brush against the back of his hand. "The available members were either sick or had families they needed to look after," Roxana explained, her voice steady and matter-of-fact. "I didn't want to flip anyone’s schedules upside down over something like this. So, I stood in their place. It’s not a big deal."

The sheer selflessness of her answer slammed into Kaelen’s chest like a physical blow. She hadn't done it for recognition. She hadn't done it to prove a point. She had sacrificed her own rest right before meeting the Lycan King simply because her subordinates needed to be with their families. The pure, unadulterated nobility exuding from her casual words resonated with the deepest instincts of his Lycan. She possessed the natural, undeniable grace of a Queen. *His* Queen.

But as much as his chest swelled with fierce pride, another issue relentlessly gnawed at his thoughts. He needed to understand the mechanics of her heavily guarded mind. "Roxana," Kaelen began again, his voice dropping an octave, turning darker and more intense. "Why were you so uncomfortable when your Alpha gave you credit for last year’s success against the rogues? Why didn't you just thank him and accept the public praise?"

Roxana let out a quiet snort, the sound lacking any amusement. She suddenly stopped walking. Turning her body entirely toward him, she looked him dead in the eye. The streetlamps illuminating the pathway cast a sharp light across her features, highlighting the absolute, unwavering resolve burning in her irises. She did not lower her gaze in submission. She did not flinch under the heavy, oppressive aura of the Lycan King.

"I didn't do it for the praise, your Hig—" She caught herself, her jaw tightening for a fraction of a second before she corrected her address. "Kaelen. When Alpha Castor got the request for assistance, I made it an absolute point to my warriors that the ultimate aim of the battles was to keep innocent wolves safe. I drilled this thought into their heads day in and day out on the training grounds. I told them they were to fight to protect. To fight with honor and nobility." She took a small step closer, her voice vibrating with raw, unfiltered passion. "Not for the sake of pleasing anyone sitting in a superior position."

Kaelen stood perfectly still, letting the immense strength of her voice wash over him. His lips involuntarily curled upward into a faint, deeply admiring smile as she continued, completely unafraid of offending him.

"I didn't accept the praise because I didn't bleed for that," Roxana declared, her words hitting him like rhythmic strikes. "I didn't do it for you either, Kaelen. I respect you as my King, and I respect the crown, but I didn't fight those rogues for you. I fought for those who couldn't fight for themselves. For the pups and the elderly who would have been slaughtered if we didn't hold the line. That’s why I didn't accept the praise tonight. I never will. So don't try to force me to do it."

Inside his mind, his massive Lycan threw its head back and released a deafening, earth-shaking howl of absolute joy and immense pride. He and his inner animal were entirely captivated. They could not thank the Moon Goddess enough for this specific pairing. They were completely over the moon that the fates had bound them to a female who was, in every sense of the word, a goddess in her own right. She was fiercely noble. Entirely selfless. Terrifyingly brave. And breathtakingly beautiful. What piqued his obsessive interest the most was her confident, unapologetic admission that she prioritized the lives of innocent, nameless wolves over her absolute ruler—the very man everyone else in the hall was bending over backward to please.

Yet, beneath the awe and the swelling pride, a cold current of reality grounded him. Despite her fierce display of character, she still seemed impossibly unreachable. The physical distance between them was minimal, but the emotional wall she had erected was a towering fortress of solid steel. He could feel it in the rigid set of her shoulders and the cautious way she guarded her expressions. She wasn't allowing herself to get as close to him as his Lycan desperately wanted.

And then, the darker, far more disturbing questions resurfaced, burning like acid in his brain. There was the absolute confusion regarding her willingness to reject him—or to have him reject her—right there in the hallway just an hour ago. What the hell was that about? Why would a female, upon discovering she was the destined mate of the King, instantly expect and ask for a rejection?

His mind aggressively replayed her exact words. She had explicitly mentioned her *‘previous mates’*. Plural. The word violently scraped against Kaelen’s sanity. Mates. That meant she had been bonded before. It meant she had been rejected more than once. The sheer thought of another male holding her, looking at her, and then having the astronomical stupidity to cast her aside made Kaelen’s blood boil with a lethal, murderous rage.

But even pushing the jealousy aside, her logic was flawed. Why would she assume that he would act exactly like the rest of those worthless fools? He was not a regular werewolf. He was a Lycan. And Lycans were universally known for their absolute, terrifying unwillingness to ever deny the mate bond. To a Lycan, a mate was their entire world, their religion, their reason for drawing breath. Did she not know this? Or had her past trauma run so unfathomably deep that it blinded her to the basic biological reality of what he was?

He admired her side profile in total silence as they resumed their walk toward the guest lodgings, his eyes greedily taking in the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on. He silently vowed to uncover every single detail about her. He wanted to learn the origin of every scar, the reason behind every nightmare, the source of every ounce of her strength. He knew it would require immense patience, but for better or worse, Kaelen was dead certain of one absolute fact: he would never, under any circumstances, let his mate go.

When they finally reached the hotel where the crown had housed a significant portion of the visiting wolves, Roxana glanced at him in obvious surprise. Kaelen completely ignored her questioning look and insisted on following her inside, walking closely beside her until they reached the heavy wooden door of her room on the upper floor. The hallway was empty and quiet, the only sound being the soft thud of their footsteps on the carpet.

As she pulled her key card from her pocket to unlock the door, Kaelen stood mere inches behind her. His intense gaze locked onto the jagged scar running down the side of her face. He stared at the uneven, pale skin with a heavy frown, his mind violently visualizing the rogue claws that must have caused it, his Lycan growling at the thought of her bleeding and in pain.

"Thank you for walking me back," Roxana said, her sweet, quiet voice pulling his gaze away from the scar and up to her striking eyes. She turned to face him fully, her posture still carrying that rigid, defensive edge. "Have a good night, Kaelen."

She turned away, taking only one single step into the dark expanse of her hotel room.

Kaelen moved on pure, raw instinct. Before she could cross the threshold, he reached out, his large, calloused hand firmly grabbing her by the wrist. The sudden physical restraint forced her to a halt. Roxana stiffened immediately, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as he effortlessly pulled her arm toward him. With deliberate, reverent slowness, Kaelen bowed his head, lifting her knuckles to his face. He locked his dark, intense eyes with her wide, startled ones as he pressed his lips firmly against the back of her hand, planting a deep, lingering kiss on her skin.

The moment his lips made contact, a violent, overwhelming wave of electrical sparks exploded from the touch. The sensation was highly aggressive, surging straight up her arm and instantly engulfing her entire body in a heavy, intoxicating heat. The sheer power of the Lycan mate bond slammed into her nervous system. Kaelen felt the massive jolt himself, the heavy shockwave grounding him, making his Lycan purr with deep, feral satisfaction.

He did not let go of her hand immediately. He held her firmly in place, letting the violent sparks continue to arc between their skin, watching the way her chest hitched as she struggled to process the intense physical overload. Still locking his unyielding gaze with hers, he finally pulled his lips back just enough to speak against her skin.

"Goodnight, Roxana," he uttered, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy vibration that sent another tremor of heat straight through the connection.

Overwhelmed and visibly shocked by the sheer magnitude of the sensation, Roxana forcefully retracted her hand, ripping her skin away from his grip. She stumbled backward, taking three quick steps into the safety of her room before heavily slamming the door shut right in his face.

The sharp click of the lock echoing in the quiet hallway sounded like a gunshot.

Kaelen did not move. He stood completely frozen in his spot on the carpet, his eyes burning holes into the polished wood of the door. With his enhanced Lycan hearing, he could track her every movement inside the room. He heard her let out a long, shaky sigh as she leaned her back against the door, completely unaware that he was standing mere inches away on the other side. He heard the rapid, erratic thumping of her heart struggling to slow down from the kiss.

Then, he heard the faint squeak of cupboard doors opening and closing. Her soft footsteps padded hurriedly across the room, moving further away from him, followed by the sound of a second, interior door clicking shut.

After a few minutes of quiet shuffling sounds, the distinct, rushing noise of water blasting from the showerhead filled Kaelen’s ears.

The immediate mental image that accompanied the sound was utterly devastating to his self-control. His inner beast roared to life, instantly and violently aroused by the vivid thought of his mate standing entirely naked under the stream of hot water, just a few yards away. The Lycan part of his brain began screaming at him, battering against his logic with heavy, feral demands. *Break the door down. Tear the hinges off. Rip the wood to splinters. Go inside. Claim her. Mark her right now.*

Kaelen’s breathing turned heavy and ragged. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he physically fought the overwhelming, ravenous urge to destroy the barrier between them. He knew, with absolute certainty, that he could easily put his fist right through the solid wood and shatter the lock in a fraction of a second if he chose to.

*No,* he ordered his animal, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. *We cannot terrify her. She is already waiting for us to reject her. We must show restraint.*

Ignoring the pathetic, desperate whimpering of his inner animal—who would much rather skip the rest of the political meet-and-greet to spend the entire night hunting down their mate in that bathroom—Kaelen forced his boots to move. He turned his back on her door and walked away in quick, heavy steps, practically fleeing down the hallway before his evaporating self-control completely shattered.

By the time he returned to the main gathering hall, his expression was locked back into a mask of cold, terrifying authority, though his blood was still boiling with residual heat. He had royal duties to finish. He needed to make his rounds, to fulfill the promise he had made to personally thank the packs who had assisted the crown.

He found it deeply amusing when the various pack leaders and seasoned warriors displayed visible, wide-eyed surprise after he approached them to express his gratitude. For years, he had treated this event with blatant disgust, so his sudden shift in demeanor had them completely entirely off guard. However, his patience for the political theater quickly thinned. There were several self-entitled Alphas and incredibly snobbish Lunas who tried—and failed lamentably—to portray themselves as noble, humble-bragging about their minor contributions while looking for royal favors.

Disgusted by their empty words, Kaelen started changing his tactic. Instead of listening to their fabricated tales of glory, he began taking a keen, analytical interest in the visible scars on his subjects’ bodies. He wanted to hear the brutal truth of survival, not political posturing.

His sharp gaze landed on a warrior standing with the delegation from the Sanguine Eclipse Pack. The wolf, introduced as Gamma Torin, bore a horrific, jagged scar that slashed violently down the side of his face, tracing all the way down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. If the massive claw mark had gone even a fraction of an inch higher, the warrior would have been permanently rendered blind in one eye.

"How did it happen?" Kaelen asked, stepping closer to the Gamma, his deep voice laced with genuine concern as he gestured toward the brutal facial scar.

Gamma Torin immediately straightened his posture, though he offered the King a gracious, almost serene smile. "A rogue attack five years ago, your Highness," the warrior explained, his tone respectful and steady. "Our pack was ambushed near our borders. We were outnumbered, so we formed emergency alliances with Azure Crescent and Ivory Blood to eradicate the rogues before they could breach the civilian sectors."

"Were many injured in the fighting?" the King asked, his analytical mind immediately processing the tactical situation of a three-pack alliance.

"We lost two wolves in the final push of the attack, sadly," Torin replied, his smile dimming slightly in remembrance of the fallen. "But the death toll was significantly higher before our alliance was forged. They were slaughtering us. Although this scar is displeasing to the eye, I must admit to you, your Highness, that looking at it in the mirror only brings me joy."

Kaelen’s curiosity was immediately piqued. He tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto the warrior. "What do you mean by that, Gamma Torin? How does a disfiguring battle wound bring you joy?"

Torin shifted slightly on his feet. He shot a quick, nervous glance at his own pack leaders standing a few feet away, making sure he wasn't stepping out of line, before turning his attention back to the Lycan King. "When the rogues attacked the western flank, the fighting devolved into absolute chaos," Torin began, his voice painting a vivid picture of the carnage. "Some of us who possessed above-average strength took it upon ourselves to engage more than one rogue at a time to protect the younger fighters. When I kept taking on two at a time, tearing their throats out, the rogue alphas took notice of my tactics. All of a sudden, the tide shifted. I found myself completely cut off from my unit, surrounded by five massive rogue wolves."

Torin raised his hand, lightly touching the scarred tissue on his neck. "One of them clamped its jaws heavily onto my tail, completely pinning me down. As I struggled to break free, another rogue lunged and slashed me from the side, tearing through my flesh and giving me this exact scar." He gestured down his face before dropping his hand. "I hit the dirt. When the blood from my face was violently oozing into my eyes and blinding me, I knew I was dead. But then, completely out of nowhere, the Gammas from our two ally packs pounced into the clearing. They didn't hesitate. They tore into the rogues surrounding me, ripping them apart with absolute brutality, scattering the pack and leaving only the specific rogue who had slashed my face. They purposefully left him alive just long enough for me to regain my footing, chase him down, and tear his throat out myself."

Torin’s gracious smile returned, wider and far more genuine this time. "The scar brings me immense joy, your Highness, because it has been a very long time since I knew I could truly count on someone from another pack to watch my back in the dirt. I’m not an Alpha. I command no real political power. I am not a member of their packs. They had absolutely no obligation to risk their own lives to pull me out of that death trap, but they did it anyway."

Kaelen listened to the bloody, brutal recounting with deep, unwavering attention. His respect for the allied fighters grew immensely. "Azure Crescent and Ivory Blood, you say?" he confirmed, committing the pack names to memory.

"Yes, your Highness," Torin replied, executing a slight, highly respectful bow. "The warrior from Ivory Blood who saved me is Gamma Gideon Vance. And I believe you have already had the pleasure of meeting the warrior from Azure Crescent tonight… Gamma Roxana Vane."

Kaelen’s entire body went absolutely rigid. His heart gave a massive, violent thud against his ribs. *Roxana.* She had thrown herself into a five-on-one death trap just to pull a foreign Gamma out of the dirt. She had risked being torn to shreds for a wolf she didn't even share a pack bond with. The sheer, terrifying bravery of her actions flooded his veins with a volatile mixture of immense pride and retrospective terror at the thought of her bleeding out on a battlefield.

"Mm," the King managed to hum, giving a slow, tight nod as he forcefully suppressed the wild surge of protective instinct roaring in his head.

Gamma Torin fell silent for a moment. He quickly darted his eyes toward his Alpha and Luna again, who were suddenly sporting deeply doubtful, terrified expressions, silently urging their Gamma to shut his mouth. Torin swallowed hard. He visibly cleared his throat, and when he looked back up at Kaelen, there was raw, unfiltered fear shining in his eyes. But he refused to back down.

"Your Highness?" Torin began, his voice trembling slightly with the weight of the risk he was about to take.

"Yes, Gamma Torin?" Kaelen obliged, masking his internal turmoil with a perfectly calculated, encouraging smile.

The Gamma took a shallow breath, speaking with extreme caution. "I… I wasn't standing very near the royal dais when you officially met Gamma Roxana earlier this evening. So, I am not entirely sure if what I thought I heard was… actually what I heard." He hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his fear. "Did you mention to the hall that Roxy is your destined mate?"

Kaelen’s jaw instantly locked. A sudden, blinding flash of dark, murderous jealousy violently erupted in his chest. *Roxy.* The absolute audacity of this inferior male. The deep, familiar affection dripping from Torin’s voice when he spoke that nickname felt like a physical violation of Kaelen’s territory. His inner beast snarled violently, demanding he extend his claws and rip the wolf’s tongue out of his head for daring to claim any level of intimacy with his Queen.

But Kaelen forcefully swallowed the venom. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands to keep his physical form entirely still. "I did mention it, and she is," the King responded smoothly, forcing the polite smile to remain plastered on his face despite the lethal, possessive rage burning in his gut.

Gamma Torin gave a slow, heavy nod. His shoulders dropped slightly as he processed the confirmation. "I am not entirely sure if you are going to order my immediate execution for what I’m about to say to you, your Highness," Torin stated, his voice devoid of humor. "But as I just told you, I owe her my life. I owe her my breath. So, I think losing my head for her is going to be a fair trade."

Torin let out a single, dry chuckle that held zero amusement, before his demeanor shifted into a state of absolute, dead serious pleading. "Your Highness, I beg you. As a wolf standing before his King… please, do not hurt her. She is a genuinely good person who, for some entirely unknown reason, was brutally forced to go through far more torment than most wolves experience in ten lifetimes."

Kaelen’s heavy eyebrows furrowed violently. The polite smile instantly vanished, replaced by a dark, terrifying scowl. He felt deeply, fundamentally insulted. Why the hell would this lowly Gamma automatically assume that he, as the ultimate Lycan King and her destined mate, couldn't take proper care of her? Why did everyone assume he was going to damage her? Who the hell did this wolf think he was, standing there issuing heavily veiled warnings to his sovereign?

Kaelen tried his absolute best to keep his composure, but his aura flared, leaking a suffocating, dominant pressure into the immediate area. He stared down at Torin and declared in a cold, deadly serious tone that brooked no argument, "I would never, ever even think of hurting her. She is my mate. She is my entire world now. I would gladly start a continent-wide war and burn this world to ash before I ever let anyone, including myself, cause her harm."

Torin physically flinched under the crushing weight of the King’s aura, but the terror in his eyes was quickly replaced by immense, profound relief. "That is deeply good to know. It has been an absolute honor to meet you, your Highness," Gamma Torin said, executing a deep, entirely submissive bow, offering his neck in total surrender to the King's dominance.

The King managed a flat, incredibly forced smile. "Likewise, members of Sanguine Eclipse. Do enjoy the rest of the evening," Kaelen bit out.

He didn't wait for their response. Kaelen turned on his heel and walked away in quick, heavy strides. He had to physically distance himself from their group as he felt the dark, suffocating jealousy threatening to completely overtake his body. The fact that Torin expressed so much intimate, desperate concern for Roxana—willing to literally sacrifice his own life to threaten the King on her behalf—was driving Kaelen’s Lycan absolutely insane. If he had stayed standing in front of that Gamma for even one second longer, he might have lost control and actually killed Torin just to sever the wolf's connection to his mate.

Attempting to aggressively cool his boiling blood, Kaelen moved across the hall to speak with Luna Thalia, a strong female who was currently shouldering the immense burden of running her pack completely alone after the tragic death of her husband in a border skirmish the previous month. The conversation was highly productive and respectful, focusing on structural pack defenses.

But midway through her explanation, Kaelen suddenly felt a foreign hand slide smoothly and seductively down his muscular arm.

The touch lacked any trace of the electric, life-altering sparks he felt with Roxana. Instead, it felt slimy, highly intrusive, and deeply offensive to his senses. His head snapped to the side, his eyes narrowing as he turned his sights to absolutely glare at the creature daring to touch his royal person.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kaelen demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerously low, guttural vibration that caused the surrounding air to turn freezing cold.

Standing entirely too close to him was Nadia Croft, the arrogant, highly privileged daughter of his own Defense Minister. Instead of backing away in terror at the King’s obvious fury, Nadia simply tilted her head, batting her heavily painted eyelashes as she smiled coyly up at the King, clearly banking on her father’s political position to shield her from the consequences of her blatant seduction. Her complete lack of respect for his boundaries only made Kaelen’s anger spike higher.

"Nadia," a frantic, panicked voice called out from the crowd. Minister Croft pushed his way through the surrounding wolves, his face pale with horror as he rushed to approach them, realizing exactly what his foolish daughter had just done.

The King released a deep, chest-rattling growl that made everyone within a twenty-foot radius freeze in absolute terror. He didn't break his lethal glare away from the girl as he spoke. "Should your daughter ever decide to aggressively interfere in one of my private conversations and touch me again, we will have to have a very long, very painful discussion about your political future, Croft. And hers."

Nadia’s coy smile instantly shattered. She was left completely stunned, the reality of the King’s deadly threat finally penetrating her arrogance. She wisely opted to keep her mouth entirely shut, quickly bowing and holding her head extremely low, hiding her humiliated face.

Minister Croft hastily bowed his upper body almost parallel to the floor, sweating profusely. "I am terribly, terribly sorry, your Highness. I should have been much more alert to her whereabouts. I take full responsibility. We will excuse ourselves from your presence immediately."

The King did not offer a word of forgiveness. His icy, lethal glare remained fixed on the backs of the father and daughter until they retreated far enough through the crowd to satisfy his comfort. He took a slow, deep breath, forcing his mind to violently pivot away from the rage. He closed his eyes for a split second, visualizing Roxana’s face, recalling the exact shade of her striking eyes and the soft scent of her skin. The mere thought of her acted as an instant anchor, aggressively calming the violent storm raging in his chest.

Regaining his absolute composure, Kaelen turned back to the widowed Luna, who was staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. "I sincerely apologize for the rude interruption, Luna Thalia," Kaelen said, his voice entirely stripped of the previous venom, returning to a smooth, respectful tone. "We were talking about the heavy construction works required for a new centralized training ground in your pack, if I am not mistaken?"

Luna Thalia visibly blinked, completely thrown off guard. She had absolutely not expected a genuine apology from the Lycan King, nor was she prepared for the profound sincerity ringing in his words. Seeing that the King actually remembered the exact point where they had left off in their conversation deeply encouraged her. Her initial fear vanished, replaced by an enthusiastic drive as she passionately detailed her ambitious plans to mandate defensive combat training for every single able-bodied pack member, regardless of their rank.

Kaelen listened intently, actively supporting her strategic vision. He encouraged her to immediately submit a formal application to the royal court should she require any extensive help in terms of finances or dispatching elite royal trainers to get the program off the ground. Overwhelmed by his generosity, she bowed deeply, thanking him profusely and promising to keep his incredibly generous offer in mind.

The moment Kaelen politely excused himself from Luna Thalia, he was immediately intercepted. Alpha Castor and Luna Maura of the Azure Crescent pack approached him with hasty, deeply nervous steps. They completely bypassed protocol, practically throwing themselves into his path before coming to an abrupt halt and bowing respectfully.

"Heads up, pack leaders of Azure Crescent," Kaelen commanded smoothly, masking his internal exhaustion. "To what do I owe this sudden pleasure?"

As Castor and Maura nervously raised their heads, they were met with the highly unusual sight of the Lycan King’s smiling eyes. It was a well-documented historical fact that no Lycan King had ever found meeting common werewolves to be a genuine ‘pleasure.’ Furthermore, no Lycan of his status would ever bother offering a warm, accommodating smile to a lower species, let alone the King himself. The sheer novelty of the situation had Castor sweating.

Alpha Castor shot a quick, desperate glance sideways at his mate. Luna Maura gave him a firm, highly encouraging nod, her eyes silently demanding he follow through with their plan. Castor swallowed hard, looking back up at the King, his voice dripping with obvious doubt and profound fear. "My Gamma… Roxana. She is truly your destined mate, your Highness?"

Kaelen’s smile instantly evaporated. He was rapidly getting incredibly pissed off by this recurring line of questioning. His heavy eyebrows furrowed darkly, his voice dropping into a harsh, commanding register. "She is. I announced it to the entire hall. Is there a problem with that fact, Alpha Castor?"

Alpha Castor physically flinched at the sharp tone. He muttered a quiet, deeply terrified ‘wow’ under his breath, taking a second to mentally prepare himself for the very real possibility of execution. "Your Highness, please, I beg you to understand that I mean absolutely no disrespect to the crown for whatever comes out from my mouth next," Castor pleaded. He cleared his dry throat, squaring his shoulders as he locked eyes with the apex predator standing before him. "If you are not… entirely serious about… having her," he swallowed a massive lump in his throat before forcefully pushing the words out, "…then please, I am begging you to let her go right now. Break the bond. I absolutely do not want to see her completely destroyed by the mate bond again. I have known her since we were tiny pups running in the dirt. She is exactly like a sister to me. It physically pains me and my Luna to see her hurt."

The silence that followed Castor’s plea was deafening.

If Alpha Castor did not have a marked mate standing right beside him, Kaelen was dead certain that his Lycan would have violently ripped the Alpha’s throat right out of his neck on the spot out of pure, possessive jealousy. The idea of any male claiming to love her, even platonically, set Kaelen’s nerves on fire. Gamma Torin had already completely emptied his patience reservoir earlier, and Kaelen was currently clinging to the absolute last, fraying thread of restraint he had left for the entire night.

"Why in the goddess's name would you ever think that I am not serious about Roxana, Alpha Castor?" Kaelen demanded, his voice a low, lethal rumble that shook the floorboards. He deliberately used her name, taking a twisted, deeply possessive comfort in claiming the syllables on his tongue.

Alpha Castor held his ground, though his hands were visibly shaking. "My King, I freely admit that I do not know your exact intentions with Roxy. Having literally just met you personally today, I have to say that I do not know you as a man at all. So I cannot possibly tell how this sudden… mate bond is going to… progress." He let out a long, heavy sigh, looking exactly like a man who was acutely aware he was about to make one of the biggest, most fatal mistakes of his life. "All I wanted to say to you is that... she has already gone through entirely too much pain in one lifetime. Please. Just don't hurt her."

As soon as he finished speaking, Alpha Castor dropped his head slightly, his posture completely rigid, looking exactly like a condemned man ready to receive his lethal punishment from the executioner.

Kaelen simply stared at the Alpha. Beneath the raging, possessive fury of his Lycan, Kaelen’s analytical mind was deeply, profoundly stunned. He was genuinely in awe of what Roxana was capable of achieving simply by existing. In the span of one single night, three highly respected wolves—including an Alpha who commanded an entire territory—were entirely ready to accept brutal punishment, and even death, just to stand in front of the most dangerous predator on the continent and demand he not hurt her. The sheer, terrifying magnitude of the sacrificial loyalty she inspired from her superiors was breathtaking.

Slowly, the tension bled out of Kaelen’s broad shoulders. He let out a dark, low chuckle at his own internal realization. The sound caused Alpha Castor’s head to snap up, his expression morphing into utter confusion.

Kaelen stepped forward, closing the distance, his aura shifting from lethal to absolute, unyielding certainty. He looked Castor straight in the eye and declared, "Alpha Castor, hear my words. My sole intention with Roxana is to court her. I intend to formally mate her, to sink my teeth into her neck and mark her, and only her. I fully intend to have her mark me in return. And when that is done, I will proudly crown her as my Queen for the entire world to see."

He paused, letting the immense weight of the royal declaration sink into their terrified minds. "I do not know what exact horrors I have committed in my past to have you and Gamma Torin both violently assume that I will hurt my own mate," Kaelen continued, his voice softer now but no less intense. "But I can give you my absolute, unbreakable assurance that I could never bear to see Roxana suffer, let alone be the one to hurt her." He chuckled darkly again, a bitter edge entering his tone before he muttered half to himself, "If anything, she is the one who hurt me with the things she said to me in the hallway tonight."

Luna Maura, sensing the King’s genuine vulnerability, cautiously stepped forward. She placed a gentle, grounding hand on her Alpha’s arm before speaking to Kaelen. "Your Highness, p-please, I beg you to forgive her guarded nature," Maura explained, her voice trembling slightly. "It is absolutely not in our position to speak to you about the details of her past trauma. That is her story to tell. But if she ever decides to open up and tell you one day... you will fully understand why she said the things she did tonight. You will understand why she expects you to leave."

Kaelen gave a slow, solemn nod of absolute understanding as he listened to her nervous explanation. The puzzle pieces of Roxana’s broken past were slowly beginning to form a terrifying picture in his mind. He looked at the two leaders and offered a genuine, reassuring smile. "You both need not be so violently afraid of me," Kaelen added, his voice projecting a calm, steady authority. "I am not a tyrant. I wouldn't punish or kill my subjects without a proper, legal basis. And logic and legality entirely aside... I wouldn't dream of killing or harming my mate’s pack leaders when they are clearly just trying to look out for her safety."

There was a long, stunned moment of absolute silence before Alpha Castor and Luna Maura simultaneously bowed deeply, physically trembling as they displayed their profound, overwhelming gratitude to the merciful King.

Having given his absolute word, Kaelen moved on. He forced himself to complete the political theater, greeting the next pack delegation, and then two more after that, before his patience completely ran dry and he finally took his abrupt leave from the gathering hall.

When Kaelen finally arrived back at his private royal estate, the massive stone house felt entirely different. What used to be a quiet, peaceful sanctuary now just felt suffocatingly cold and profoundly empty. He walked through the dark, silent hallways, the lack of Roxana’s presence gnawing violently at his sanity.

Determined to maintain his routine, Kaelen sat at his heavy oak desk and forced his tired eyes to go through one highly detailed file in the stack of recent rogue attack reports. He tried to absorb the tactical data, but the words blurred on the paper. His mind continuously violently pivoted back to the image of her face, the feel of her waist under his palm, and the violent, electrical spark of his lips against her skin.

Giving up the futile effort, he abandoned the desk and moved to his massive bed, turning in for the night. As he lay in the dark room, Kaelen turned his head, looking at the expansive, empty space on the side of his mattress. In the quiet shadows, his desperate mind conjured the vivid image of Roxana lying next to him, her striking eyes closed in peaceful sleep, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with his own breathing.

Operating on pure, subconscious instinct, his large hand reached out across the sheets, searching for the warmth of her body. His fingers met only the freezing, smooth surface of the empty silk pillow.

The stark physical emptiness slammed into his chest. Deep within his soul, his massive inner animal let out a pathetic, heartbreaking whimper, profoundly and painfully missing the mate they had just found. The yearning was a physical ache, a burning hole right in the center of his chest.

But as the heavy exhaustion finally began to pull him under, Kaelen forcefully shifted his thoughts away from the empty bed. He focused entirely on the absolute certainty that the sun would rise soon. He thought about walking back to that hotel in a few short hours. He thought about seeing her striking eyes again, about hearing her defiant voice, about the long, challenging journey of breaking down her steel walls.

For the first time in centuries, the Lycan King fell asleep with a genuine, hopeful smile gracing his lips.