Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Her smile trembles. Her eyes shine.
“I do.”
A murmur ripples through the gathered pack.
“Then bare your throats,” I command softly. “And be bound.”
They slip into each other’s arms. She smiles at him, and it’s so tender it tugs at my heart.
A breath passes between them. One heartbeat. Two.
Then she tilts her head to the side and he sinks his teeth into her flesh.
She gasps softly. The sound is almost sexual. These two will be one of the couples who will be at it for weeks. I can tell.
The male growls low in his chest.
He finally releases her and she lunges at his neck, sinking her teeth into his skin, marking him back.
The mark of the fated mates blooms on their flesh, mirrored and perfect. The bond snaps into place like a blade locking into its sheath.
The crowd roars. Wolves howl.
And I nod.
They are sealed. Now and forever.
They don’t even look at me as they leave. They can’t. Their world has already narrowed to two bodies and one need.
Good.
That’s how it should be.
I bless them in the old way, pressing my palm to my heart, speaking the ancient words my father taught me, and his father before him. I say them without faltering.
“By moon and blood, you are bound.
By bite and bond, you are pack.
As one, you stand. As one, you endure.”
The next couple approaches.
And two more wolves are bound.
Inside, something twists. It aches. A heaviness that gets harder to bear with each bound I witness.
I’m only forty-one years of age, but I feel old.
Tired.
Worn down.
I have none of that excitement I see in these couples’ eyes. None of that enthusiasm and lust for life. None of that promise for a better tomorrow.
I just feel… weight. The weight of the kingdom bearing down on my shoulders every waking second.
Heavy is the crown.
This throne takes more than it gives, but this is what it costs to lead the pack. The alpha is meant to bear the weight alone. The burden is supposed to settle on the strongest shoulders.
But lately, I’ve been wondering… how strong are my shoulders?
It’s crisis after crisis. One after another, weighing me down, trying to bury me…
No queen. No heirs. No wolf.
The rumors are beginning to spread. My shameful secret is getting out.
My pack hasn’t seen my wolf in almost a year.
No one has dared ask me to my face what happened, but they all know.
They can smell it on me. The absence. The vacancy. The lack.
It won’t be long before my kingdom falls into open rebellion.
I hear the rumors. The whispering. I have ears all over my kingdom.
I know where this will lead.
They say I’m going soft. That the kingdom is cracking. That I’m not up for the challenge. That the crown is too much for me.
I peer inside, trying to rouse my wolf.
And… nothing.
Even with a full moon hovering in the sky. With newly bound mates and would-be mates in waiting all around me.
Nothing.
Not even a whimper.
I sigh as my shoulders drop, the heaviness unbearable.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m not enough. Maybe I shouldn’t be ruling.
A Wolf King without a wolf is no king at all.
But abdicating the throne would be horrific for these people who have trusted me with their safety and their lives.
There would be open war all over the Moonborne Kingdom. Every noble alpha would make a run for the throne. Pack against pack. All that violence and death. The needless destruction. The pain would echo through centuries.
And it wouldn’t just be the wolves. The humans would cross the borders with their pointy metal sticks, trying to eliminate us all. The other great wolf kingdoms—the Stormfur Realms to the east and the vicious Blood Alphas to the south—would smell the blood in the air and would attempt to peel off territory to expand their kingdoms.
No. I will not allow it. I must go on.
An alpha does not have the luxury of rest.
The pack survives because I carry this burden for them.
They look to me, and I cannot falter.
If I weaken, they all bleed.
“I am alpha,” I whisper to myself. “I endure.”
The last couple approaches and kneels in front of me.
“Rise,” I command.
My heart aches as they stand.
The female is looking up at her mate with open devotion, her fingers curling into his tunic like she’s afraid he’ll vanish into the darkness. He smiles down at her, already imagining the next few days tangled together in heat and sweat and hunger.
Gods, I would give my kingdom to feel that kind of desire. To have someone looking at me like that.
They bond to each other and I say the blessing.
And the town celebrates. The town musicians pick up their instruments as the bonfire is lit, roaring into the night. Drums pound. Pipes cry out. Wolves howl. Laughter fills the air.
Food is brought out. So much food. Barrels of ale are cracked open and thirsty men line up with their large empty tankards, pushing and jostling each other to get theirs filled first.