The Alpha's Mandate

"Dad, I've told you a hundred times. I don't need a bodyguard." I groaned, throwing myself backward. The mattress springs protested as I aggressively flopped onto my bed, crossing my arms over my chest. I glared up at the ornate ceiling, my jaw clenched tight.

My dad stood near the doorway, quiet. The silence in the bedroom grew thick and heavy.

*You know he is only trying to keep us safe,* my inner wolf, Zoya, scolded me from the back of my mind. *Stop pushing him so hard.*

I ignored her. "I can take care of myself," I muttered to the empty air.

"Cordelia." My dad's stern voice cut through the silence.

The suffocating weight of his Alpha aura flooded the bedroom. It was a tangible force, stealing the oxygen from the room and pressing down on my shoulders. It forced my Lycan instincts to yield. I gritted my teeth, but my body moved on its own. I physically sat up, my posture snapping straight as I met his intense silver eyes. Being the daughter of the Alpha King offered me some resistance to his commanding power, but no one could brush it off.

Zoya grumbled in my head. *Well, you have done it now.*

I swallowed the lump in my throat, quickly realizing this was a battle I could not win. "Yes, Dad?"

"You will behave, and you will let your bodyguard protect you." His voice carried the booming resonance of an Alpha giving a direct order.

I dug my nails into my palms. It felt unfair. My extensive combat training meant nothing to him. Because I was currently mateless, he insisted I was a walking target. I carried the heavy, unprecedented destiny of becoming the first female Alpha Queen in Lycan history, a title that put a massive bullseye on my back. He refused to relinquish his crown until I was secured, and now, he refused to leave me unprotected.

"Fine," I snapped, my tone bitter. I turned my head to glare out the large bedroom window, watching the wind sweep through the sprawling gardens. "But you know I will never behave for him. I am going to make his life miserable."

At my sharp words, my father's harsh, commanding exterior melted away. The terrifying Alpha King vanished, leaving behind a deeply broken-hearted man. This was the vulnerable side of him that only my late mother and I ever witnessed.

He stepped closer, sinking onto the edge of my mattress. "Cordelia, please." His voice came out thick with raw emotion, cracking on my name. "I simply cannot bear to lose you too. We have hidden enemies everywhere. The war is taking a toll, but losing you... I cannot survive that."

I turned back to look at him, and my chest ached. The sheer physical exhaustion from the ongoing territorial war weighed heavily on his broad shoulders. But it was the fresh, agonizing grief of losing Mom to a rogue attack just a year ago that carved deep lines into his face. He looked so tired, bearing the weight of an entire kingdom while masking a shattered heart from his people. I remembered the blood, the screams, the terrifying way the light faded from her eyes. My father had to keep leading, but inside, his mate's death was a bleeding wound.

My anger drained away, leaving a hollow guilt in its place. I relented, forcing myself to swallow my bitter resentment. "When will he be here?"

A relieved smile broke through his exhausted features. "Tomorrow morning. I will have the maids move your things to the newly assigned suite later today. Your guard will occupy the adjoining room."

I cringed internally. An adjoining room. A new, aggressive shadow occupying my personal space. "Great," I muttered.

"Just stay on the grounds today," he requested, pushing himself off the bed. He ran a hand through his graying hair. "Tomorrow, you do not leave without him."

I nodded, determined to vigorously savor my final, fleeting hours of unmonitored freedom.

As soon as Dad left, I bounded rapidly down the main staircase. My bare feet slapped against the marble steps, dodging a pair of scurrying maids carrying loads of fresh linens. If today was my last day of peace, I was going to enjoy every second of it.

I pushed through the swinging double doors of the massive royal kitchens. The heat of the ovens blasted my face, carrying seductively sweet, mouth-watering aromas. The kitchen was the size of a small restaurant, bustling with staff preparing meals for the household and the townsfolk. I ducked under a cook balancing a large tray of pastries, letting the scent of warm sugar pull me toward the center island.

A fresh batch of chocolate chip muffins sat cooling on a wire rack. I grinned mischievously, reaching out to snag one of the warm treats.

"Cordelia! Drop that muffin!"

I whipped around. Nadine, one of the kingdom's lead cleaning ladies, marched toward me. Since Mom died, Nadine had stepped in as a fiercely protective surrogate mother figure. Right now, she wielded a dirty cleaning rag like a lethal weapon.

"I was just looking!" I laughed, taking a step back.

"Out of my kitchen!" She playfully chased me, swatting the air with the rag.

Barking with genuine laughter, I surrendered my prize and successfully escaped through the massive glass patio doors. The crisp, refreshing spring air hit my lungs, instantly cooling my skin. The expansive royal gardens were in full bloom, the rich scents of exotic flowers and sweet honeysuckle mixing in the breeze. I walked past the towering rose bushes, trailing my fingers over the soft petals of a vibrant tulip and the rough stem of a sunflower. The estate was massive, a glorified mansion built like a fortress, surrounded by the largest kingdom in the Lycan world. I was meant to rule all of this someday.

I made my way down the winding dirt path toward the central gazebo. My best friend, Tessa, sat waiting patiently at a small wrought-iron table. Her striking honey eyes sparkled with amusement as I jogged up the steps. A couple of royal servants had already delivered a lavish, decadent breakfast of scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and roasted sausages.

"You look like you are running for your life," Tessa teased, her chocolate curls bouncing as she poured a glass of orange juice.

"Nadine caught me raiding the bakery rack," I grinned, sinking into the chair across from her. I piled a scoop of eggs onto my plate, my smile faltering as the reality of my morning set in. "But that is the least of my problems. Dad is officially assigning me a personal bodyguard."

Tessa giggled brightly. "Oh, you must hate that."

"It is a massive nuisance," I bitterly vented, stabbing a sausage link with my fork. "He is taking the adjoining room in my new suite. I am going to be a captive in my own home."

Tessa rested her chin on her hand, her eyes dancing with humor. "What would Gemma say if she were here?"

I snorted, thinking of our wilder, absent best friend. "She would immediately comment on his potential hotness. Or inappropriately suggest making him share my bed for maximum safety."

Tessa broke into a fit of laughter, and I could not help but join her. The peaceful, lighthearted morning stretched on as we shared breakfast, joking about the impending arrival of my new keeper.

*Cordelia, come to the library.*

Uncle Gideon's authoritative voice flooded my mind via a sudden mind-link. I winced at the psychic intrusion, the command ringing directly in my head.

I sighed, pushing my plate away. "Uncle Gideon is calling me. I have to go."

Tessa nodded, gathering her things. "I need to leave for my shift at the coffee shop anyway. I will see you later."

I left the serene gardens and headed back inside. Walking the grand halls, I finally reached the heavy oak doors of the massive royal library. Pushing them open, I found twenty-eight-year-old Gideon near the back, hunched over a dusty, ancient tome. With his broad shoulders and silver eyes, he closely resembled a younger, slightly less stressed version of my father.

He looked up as I approached, offering a sympathetic smile. "I heard about your father's security plans."

I forcefully rolled my eyes, throwing myself onto one of the plush leather sofas. "It is pointless. All my extensive combat training feels utterly useless if I am forced to endure a permanent shadow holding my hand."

Gideon's sympathetic expression vanished. His face instantly hardened into stern severity. He closed the ancient tome with a solid thud.

"Your combat training will only be utilized if a lethal threat manages to brutally slip past your bodyguard," he reminded me chillingly. "You should never hope to put your combat skills to use, Cordelia. This is a matter of life and death."

I frowned, chastised by his harsh tone. "I know. I just hate the idea of some random warrior watching my every move."

Gideon tilted his head, his silver eyes piercing into mine. "Do you know the true identity of your new protector?"

I carelessly shrugged, leaning back into the cushions. "No. I assume he is simply a random, skilled warrior from the royal ranks."

Gideon remained perfectly still. "Knowing your father, he would not choose just any warrior for this task."

His ominous comment hung in the quiet air of the library. A brief, chilling wave of suspicion stirred within my chest. Why would Gideon say that? Who exactly was Dad bringing into our home? The royal guard had hundreds of capable fighters, towering Lycans bred for combat. If this new guard was not a standard soldier, then who was he? An assassin? A mercenary? I swallowed hard, but quickly brushed the feeling off as mere irritation. It did not matter who he was or what lethal skills he possessed. I was not going to make his job easy.

With Tessa departing for her work shift, the remainder of the day agonizingly dragged on. I wandered the estate, feeling the precious seconds of my freedom ticking away. By evening, a maid solemnly escorted me to my sprawling new suite in the west wing.

I stepped into the center of the lavish bedroom, my bags already unpacked. I aggressively glared at the large, heavy adjoining door on the far wall. I dreaded the imposing, suffocating presence that would reside just a few feet away tomorrow morning. My sanctuary was breached.

Seeking a private refuge from my spiraling anxiety, I retreated into the massive, luxurious bathroom. The space was bigger than most bedrooms, a modern addition to the classic estate. Sleek marble floors led to a tub large enough to be a small pool. I turned the brass taps, letting steaming water roar into the sprawling porcelain basin. Grabbing a bottle of vanilla-scented bubble bath, I aggressively dumped the contents into the rushing water, watching the thick foam rise over the edges.

I stripped down and sank into the tub, forcefully soaking in the thick suds. The sweet scent of vanilla clouded the air, calming my racing pulse. I let the silence wash over me, trying to wash away the stress of my royal burdens. I sat there in the quiet isolation for over an hour, until the once-hot water turned freezing cold, sending shivers across my wet skin. I lifted my hands, staring at the pads of my fingers, deeply pruned from the long soak.

Feeling significantly calmer and emotionally detached about the dreaded morning to come, I pulled myself from the water. I dried off, slipped into my nightclothes, and finally curled into the warmth of my large bed. Pulling the heavy blankets up over my shoulders, I closed my eyes and peacefully drifted off to sleep.