Relinquishing the Crown

Valerica's POV

Inside the quiet sanctuary of my cottage, Odelia carefully placed the heavy, leather-bound Glacierclaw asset list on the oak table before me. The tome landed with a dull thud. I flipped through the meticulously recorded pages. The numbers printed in neat ink painted a stark reality. I ran my finger down the final column. I had personally covered over six million in Crimsonmoon's daily operating costs, border defenses, and infrastructure repairs this year alone. My funds kept their watchtowers manned and their larders full. Yet, despite draining my liquid accounts for Garrick’s failing pack, I had miraculously managed to leave my late mother's vast, ancestral estates and heavily guarded underground vaults untouched. The ancient deeds and gold reserves remained locked safely away.

The sudden realization of how tirelessly Calanthe had prepared all this wealth solely to ensure my future happiness hit me like a physical blow to the ribs. A sharp, agonizing pang of grief sent a tremor through my chest, echoing through my whining inner wolf. My mother wanted me cherished. Instead, I was buying the loyalty of a pack that saw me as a disposable bank.

"Where can we even go, Valerica? Back to Glacierclaw?" Odelia asked, her voice trembling with frustration. She wiped at her tear-stained cheeks. She agonized over the fact that our abrupt departure might only thrill Garrick and clear the path for Morrigan without a fight. "Garrick will celebrate our absence. He will install that stray in your rightful place before the sun sets."

"Let him be thrilled," I replied flatly. My tone remained devoid of emotion. As I spoke, the gruesome memory of my pack's blood-slicked plaza flashed before my eyes. I saw the lifeless bodies of my kin. "Staying here would mean a lifetime of watching them fawn over each other while I slowly suffocate. I need to live well—to honor the ultimate sacrifice of my parents and brothers."

There was only one true, honorable way out of this cage. I raised my hand, slowly tracing the fading, meaningless moon-mark on my neck. I consciously ignored the guttural, wolfish rasp creeping into my voice. "I will go directly to the Lycan King. I will use my family's accumulated military merits to formally ask him to revoke the mating decree."

Odelia paled instantly. She dropped the quill she was holding, letting it clatter against the floorboards as she fell to her knees. She begged me not to risk drawing the legendary fury of the Lycan King, a ruler known for his merciless temper.

But I simply offered her a faint, knowing smile. "If the Lycan King possessed the authority to allow Garrick and Morrigan to bond despite a prior oath, he possesses the authority to allow me to legally leave." I stood up. "As the last living heir of Glacierclaw's proud Alpha bloodline, I will never leave in the dead of night like a coward or a deserter. I will leave through the front gates with my head held high."

A sharp, urgent knock at the heavy oak door interrupted our planning. A servant announced that I was being summoned to Luna Lavinia's quarters. Pushing down my wolf’s aggressive instincts, I gracefully smoothed my skirts and made my way out.

Odelia followed close behind. As we walked through the cold, rain-washed plaza, my boots splashed in the shallow puddles left by the storm. The autumn chill bit at my skin. My eyes scanned the crumbling masonry of the packhouse and the moss-covered statues of past Alphas. I reflected deeply on Crimsonmoon's rapidly fading glory. They were a weakening, overextended pack devoid of sovereign influence in the realm, surviving largely on the lifeblood of my inherited wealth. Without my gold holding their stone walls together, this pack would have collapsed months ago.

Inside Lavinia's opulent, heavily perfumed residence, the atmosphere felt suffocatingly thick with plotting. The rich scent of blooming jasmine clashed with the underlying stench of deceit. Lavinia lounged elegantly on a massive obsidian sofa, draped in fine silks I had paid for. Her inner circle flanked her: Corin, his timid mate Nadia, the ever-haughty Drusilla, and the elder Alpha's brother.

"The northern winds have finally returned your mate to you," Lavinia beckoned smoothly. Her eyes gleamed with a manipulative warmth as she attempted to soothe the glaring tension in the room.

I held her gaze, refusing to step fully into the room. "Have you met Morrigan today? So, I take it you don't approve of her either?"

Lavinia’s smile tightened into a forced grimace. She smoothly claimed that personal likes and dislikes were irrelevant and would settle with time. "Since the Lycan King has spoken, the matter is settled. Morrigan will ride out and fight with Garrick, and you will stay here to meticulously manage the pack as Luna. How perfectly balanced."

"Perfect indeed," I said, my smile razor-sharp. "Two Lunas? Tell me, Lavinia, is that even a recognized tradition in our history? Or is this just another convenient rule you are inventing to keep my coin purse open?"

Her tone cooled instantly, dropping the faux maternal warmth. She sat rigidly, her claws digging into the velvet upholstery. She insisted that my sacred duty was to unconditionally support the Alpha. I was to manage the pack's endless logistical nightmares—the food shortages, the disputes, the treasury—while Morrigan enjoyed the unchecked glory of remaining at war. I was expected to smile and pay for my own replacement.

Instead of wasting my breath arguing with her delusions, I turned my piercing gaze directly to Nadia. The timid female flinched under my scrutiny.

"You are a Beta's daughter, meticulously trained for this administrative role your whole life," I told her, my voice carrying a lethal calm. "You know how to tally grain and balance ledgers. You can do it."

Nadia paled instantly, stammering as she shrank back against the sofa. "No, I—I am not fit for this. Everyone is perfectly happy with how efficiently you run things. Let's just keep it that way."

My lips curled in utter disgust. I knew the truth: they were only happy because I funded the entire pack out of my own pocket, saving them from ruin. Once, in my naive youth, I had genuinely wanted to be Garrick's perfect, supportive mate. I had bled my own resources dry to prove my worth. But those times were dead and buried. I would no longer play the accommodating fool for these leeches.

"Enough," I said, rising smoothly to my full height. My posture projected unquestionable authority. "I will pass on all my administrative duties and the ledgers tomorrow morning. From then on, Crimsonmoon's problems are yours."