Six

NOEL’S POV

I sat alone on the throne, feeling the cold stone beneath me. The palace walls stood silent around me, like they were holding their breath. My gaze drifted to the war paintings that lined the hall. It contained battles I'd won, enemies I'd crushed. They used to make me feel powerful. Now they just reminded me of what I was losing.

The boy had defied me again. Not openly—no, Kelvon was too smart for that. But I saw it in his eyes when I told him about the marriage plans. That quiet resistance. That stubborn set to his jaw that reminded me too much of his mother.

His mother. I glanced at the empty space beside my throne. She used to stand there, small and fragile in her human body but somehow still looking like she belonged, even when she knew not to sit on that throne or believe we would ever be equal. I hadn't planned to care for her. She was meant to be a tool, nothing more. A way to breed an easy heir without the mess of Lycan politics. But she'd wormed her way under my skin with her soft smiles and gentle words.

And then she betrayed me. She had tried to mold my son into something he was never supposed to be. She had tried to take him away.

I gripped the arms of the throne tighter, feeling the cold metal bend slightly under my fingers. The memory of her body burning still haunted me sometimes. The way the flames had reflected in Kelvon's young eyes as I told him his mother had died of illness. A necessary lie I had come to realize did not even matter in the grand scheme of things because he still found out.

"Your Majesty."

I looked up to see one of my guards standing at attention. I hadn't heard him approach. My senses were dulling. Another sign of my weakening.

"What?" I snapped.

"The council members have arrived for your meeting."

I waved him away. "Tell them to wait."

The guard bowed and left. I didn't care if they waited all night. Let them feel my power, even if it was slipping through my fingers like sand.

My wolf stirred slightly within me, but only to growl its displeasure. Years ago, it had turned away from me, refusing to respond to my calls or guide me toward a second mate. I had been ready to settle with a fated mate with all my conquests accomplished. The beast that had once made me great now lay dormant most days, punishing me for choices it didn't understand.

Without my wolf's full power, I was vulnerable. The other pack leaders sensed it. The humans probably sensed it. Only my reputation kept them in line, but reputations faded. I needed to secure my legacy before it was too late.

And Kelvon was my only heir.

I stood from the throne and walked to the window. Snow had started to fall heavily outside, blanketing the kingdom in white. From here, I could see the distant lights of a human village close to the castle. They lived because I allowed it. They breathed because I permitted it. But they were growing bolder, whispering behind my back. And my son—my own flesh and blood—seemed to prefer their company to that of his own kind.

I remember what he called it. A glorified concentrated camp.

"I won't," he had said earlier when I told him about the marriage. Just two simple words, but they cut deep.

The boy didn't understand what was at stake. He didn't know how hard I'd fought to unite the scattered packs, to bring order to chaos. He didn't know what it cost to rule, to keep everyone in their rightful place.

Despite what my fool of a son believed, he didn't know that his mother had died by my hand only when she tried to flee with him to an undiscovered human settlement. Not because I despised her that much.

I returned to my throne and sat heavily. The crown weighed on my head like it never had before. I thought of the girl Kelvon tried to hide from me—some human from the mines. My spies had reported seeing him there, watching some human girls from the shadows. They could not pinpoint exactly who it was. The fool might have hinted at it tonight but he still thought I didn't know. I was starting to consider killing all the human girls from the mine but the captains spearheading that district had told me that a lot of the nobles were interested in the human women there. I could not displease them. Not at a critical time like this. The matter of the season of heat.

Men and their loyalty could be such fickle things.

Still… his beast had chosen a mate already. I could smell it on him, that distinct scent of possession. And he had chosen a human. Just like I had.

My mistake would not be his.

A servant entered with wine. I took the goblet without acknowledging him and drank deeply. The rich liquid burned down my throat, but did nothing to warm the cold spreading through my chest.

I thought about Kelvon as a child, clinging to my cloak as I walked these halls. How he used to look at me with wide, trusting eyes. When had that trust turned to quiet defiance? When had the distance between us grown so vast?

The wine tasted bitter in my mouth. I threw the goblet against the wall, watching the red liquid splatter like blood against the stone. The servant who had brought it flinched but knew better than to react further.

"Send for General Arctus," I ordered. "And tell him to bring his daughter."

The servant bowed and scurried away.

Arctus was loyal. His daughter was strong. A pure Lycan with royal blood from the northern packs. She would give Kelvon powerful children. Together, they would strengthen our rule over both the humans and the packs.

If only Kelvon would accept his duty.

I drummed my fingers on the throne's arm. The boy needed to be reminded of his place. Perhaps I had been too lenient with him. Perhaps I had allowed too much of his mother's softness to remain.

"Your Majesty." A new voice spoke from the shadows.

I looked up to see Mira, the royal witch, stepping into the light. Her eyes gleamed with knowledge no mortal should possess. I had never trusted her, but her powers were useful and if she was here without my express summon, it meant this was divine.

"I didn't summon you," I said.

She smiled, her teeth gleaming. "No, but you need me all the same."

I didn't deny it. "What do you want?"

"It's not what I want, my king. It's what you want." She moved closer, her long robes whispering against the floor. "Your son resists you. Your wolf abandons you. Your enemies circle, smelling weakness."

I fought the urge to strike her for speaking so boldly. "Watch your tongue, witch."

She bowed her head, but the smile remained. "I offer only truth, and perhaps... a solution."

My interest peaked despite myself. "What solution?"

She reached into her robes and pulled out a small vial filled with dark liquid. "Heartbane," she whispered. "Rare and powerful. It binds the will, makes the drinker a puppet to the giver's commands."

I stared at the vial. The liquid inside seemed to move on its own, swirling like living smoke.

"You mean to tell me that the gods whisper to you that tell you I should use this on my son?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Only if necessary," she said. "Only if he chooses betrayal over duty. It would be a last resort, to save your kingdom from a weak ruler."

I took the vial from her hand. It felt cold against my palm. "How does it work?"

"Mix it with wine or food. Once consumed, speak your command while touching the drinker. The command becomes their desire, their only thought. They will obey without question."

I closed my fingers around the vial. "Leave me."

The witch bowed and backed away into the shadows.

I stared at the small container in my hand. Was this what I had become? A king so desperate to maintain control that he would enslave his own son's mind?

I tucked the vial into my robes. A last resort, as the witch had said. I didn't want to use it. But I would if I had to.

The doors to the throne room opened, and General Arctus strode in, his daughter following behind him. She was tall and proud, with the look of a fighter. A worthy mate for a future king.

"Your Majesty," Arctus bowed. His daughter did the same.

"General," I nodded. "I trust you received my message about the proposed union between our families."

"I did, Your Majesty. We are honored." He pushed his daughter forward slightly. "My daughter, Isla is the strongest of her generation. Her mother was a war chief from the mountain packs. She will give your son strong heirs."

I looked at the girl. She met my gaze without flinching. Good. She would need that strength to handle my stubborn son.

"Kelvon seems... reluctant," I admitted. "But he will come around. The future of our kingdom depends on it."

Arctus frowned. "Reluctant? Does he not see the honor in this match?"

"My son has his mother's heart," I said, the words tasting like poison. "Too soft for his own good. But I will deal with him."

The girl spoke for the first time. "I do not wish for a reluctant mate, Your Majesty."

I smiled at her coldness. "You will not have one. By the next full moon, Kelvon will accept this union. I give you my word."

The meeting continued, but my mind drifted to the vial hidden in my robes and to my son, who was slipping further from my grasp with each passing day.

Later that night, alone in my chambers, I took out the vial of Heartbane and held it up to the candlelight. The liquid inside seemed to watch me, judging me.

"If he ever dares betray me—for the sake of the humans—I'll take away his will," I whispered to myself. "Make him a puppet. Mine alone to control."

My wolf stirred again, growling louder this time. It didn't approve. But I no longer cared what my wolf wanted. It had abandoned me when I needed it most.

I placed the vial in a locked box beside my bed. A last resort.

Fear gripped my heart as I thought of losing everything I'd built. My kingdom. My legacy. My son. I had killed for this power. I had burned his mother alive to keep it. I would not let it all fall apart now.

Kelvon would marry the general's daughter. He would rule as I taught him to rule. And if he resisted... well, the Heartbane would ensure his compliance.

Sleep didn't come easily that night. It never did anymore. Not since my wolf turned away from me. Not since I realized that power, once gained, could be so easily lost.

And not since I began to fear my own son.