Chapter 3 - The Alpha King Came Looking for His Missing Wife, Never Realizing She Had Already Found His Greatest WeaknessWe didn't make it far.
By noon, royal riders surrounded Cedar Ridge.
My father prepared to fight.
I refused to let him.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I knew exactly what Declan wanted.
Me.
Not Dad.
Not Genevieve.
Me.
So I stepped outside.
Declan stood at the center of the road.
He wasn't wearing armor.
That somehow made him more frightening.
His black coat hung over his shoulders, his silver crown absent.
He looked like the man I had loved.
For one dangerous second, my heart betrayed me.
Then I remembered his voice.
If that is the cost, we pay it.
I walked toward him.
His eyes immediately dropped to my stomach.
Relief flashed across his face.
He thought I was still his.
“You're safe,” he said.
I laughed.
It was soft.
Almost gentle.
“You sound surprised.”
“Avery—”
“Don't.”
He stopped.
His gaze moved to Genevieve behind me.
Something dark crossed his face.
“Get her out of here.”
Genevieve stepped forward.
“No.”
Declan's jaw tightened.
“You don't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
He looked at me.
“Come home.”
“Home?”
“Yes.”
“The place where you planned my death?”
His face changed.
For the first time, I saw fear.
Real fear.
“You heard.”
“Yes.”
He took a step toward me.
“Avery, listen.”
“No.”
“It isn't what you think.”
“Then explain it.”
Silence.
He could have lied.
He could have given me another beautiful story.
Instead, he said, “Your blood is the only way to save the kingdom.”
I stared at him.
“So you kill me?”
“I can save our son.”
“He's not yours.”
The words hit him.
His eyes flashed.
“He is my heir.”
“He is my child.”
“He is both.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“He is not a crown. He is not a weapon. And he is certainly not a reward for the woman you actually wanted.”
Declan's face turned pale.
Genevieve looked away.
I stepped closer.
“You told me you loved me.”
“I do.”
“Then why did you choose my death?”
His voice dropped.
“Because I was told there was no other way.”
“By whom?”
He didn't answer.
I realized then that Declan wasn't the mastermind.
He was trapped too.
That did not excuse him.
It only made the story worse.
“By the Council,” I whispered.
His silence confirmed it.
I laughed again.
“They made you believe Genevieve needed the throne.”
“She was my mate.”
“No.”
Genevieve finally spoke.
“I never was.”
Declan turned.
She pulled back her sleeve.
A scar crossed her wrist.
“The mark never formed.”
Declan stared.
“You lied.”
“I was forced.”
“By the Council?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“They told me the mark appeared when she died.”
Genevieve shook her head.
“They forged it.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Dad shouted from the barn.
“Riders!”
More wolves appeared over the ridge.
Council soldiers.
Declan looked toward them.
His face hardened.
“Get inside.”
I stared at him.
“You're giving me orders?”
“No.”
His voice dropped.
“I'm asking you to trust me once more.”
I almost laughed.
But he moved before I could answer.
He stepped in front of me.
A bowstring snapped.
An arrow struck his shoulder.
He staggered.
“Declan!”
The world erupted.
Wolves charged.
Guns fired.
My father shouted.
Genevieve pulled me behind the barn.
Declan ripped the arrow from his shoulder and shifted halfway, claws extending from his fingers.
He fought like a storm.
The soldiers weren't attacking him.
They were attacking us.
One of the arrows had my name etched into its shaft.
The Council wanted me.
Dead or alive.
Declan saw it too.
His expression changed.
He understood.
This wasn't his extraction anymore.
It was an execution.
He roared.
The sound shook the trees.
Within minutes, the Council soldiers retreated.
Declan dropped to one knee.
Blood soaked his coat.
I stood over him.
“You should go.”
He looked up.
“Avery.”
“You're still their king.”
He shook his head.
“Not anymore.”
He removed the royal ring from his finger.
Then placed it in my palm.
“My authority.”
I stared at it.
“What are you doing?”
“Choosing you.”
“For once?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
Part of me wanted to forgive.
Another part wanted him to suffer.
Neither mattered.
Because behind the trees, someone was watching.
An old woman.
Gray-haired.
Wearing the robes of the First Council.
She smiled.
Then she disappeared.
Genevieve went pale.
“Beatrice.”
Dr. Beatrice Shaw.
Declan's physician.
The woman who had calmly explained how I would die.
The woman who had been in the council chamber.
Genevieve whispered, “She's not working for the Council.”
“Then who?”
Genevieve looked at the ring in my hand.
“The Crown.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
She answered quietly.
“It means the crown has been controlling the kings.”
I looked down at Declan.
The man who had once ruled half the northern territories.
Suddenly I understood.
May you like
He had never been the one holding the crown.
The crown had been holding him.
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