13: Emma

I stood by the bar, watching Theo interact with his minister with an authority that was firm yet measured. There was something different about him—something I couldn't quite name but felt in the subtle warmth spreading through my chest whenever our eyes met. My wolf, Artemis, paced restlessly within me, broadcasting her certainty with the persistence of a stubborn child: ‘Mate. Good mate. True mate. Nothing like Benjamin.’ The contrast between her unwavering confidence and my lingering doubts created a strange dissonance within me, like standing with one foot on solid ground and one on shifting sand.

The night had taken an unexpected turn. What had begun as a diplomatic summit had transformed into something far more personal, more consequential. I found myself standing at the edge of possibility, studying this Lycan king who was, against all odds and centuries of division, my second-chance mate.

Theo's reaction to Minister Bennett's dismissal of the displaced werewolf packs had been instant and unequivocal. Not performative outrage for my benefit—I'd seen enough of that from Benjamin to recognize the difference—but genuine indignation at the injustice. The way his voice had dropped to that dangerous quiet, the way his eyes had hardened with resolve rather than malice... it had stirred something in me that I'd thought long dead.

Maybe, just maybe, he was different. Not just as a king seeking equality, but as a man. As a potential mate.

‘He protected us,’ Artemis insisted, her voice a warm growl in my mind. ‘He put that awful minister in his place. He spoke of helping our friends.’

I pressed my palm against the cool marble of the bar top, anchoring myself against Artemis's enthusiasm. For her, the matter was already settled. The mate bond, once recognized, had become her absolute truth. Logical considerations like centuries of species prejudice, political implications, or my own traumatic history with Benjamin held no weight against the primal certainty of the connection.

‘He smells like home,’ she continued, throwing images at me—dense forests after rain, starlight on calm water, the comforting warmth of pack during winter moons. ‘Our mate.’

I sipped my wine, using the momentary sensation to centre myself against her persistent campaign. Easy for her to embrace this. Wolves lived in the present, unburdened by the past's shadows or the future's uncertainties. They didn't understand politics or social hierarchies. They certainly didn't understand the complex psychology of healing from abuse.

And yet... watching Theo now, his crown catching the golden light as he spoke with measured authority to another council member, I couldn't deny the evidence before me. He had demonstrated compassion where others had shown indifference. He had recognized injustice and moved immediately to correct it. He had respected my boundaries without question when I flinched from his touch.

Could it be that Artemis, with her instinctual wisdom, had seen what my human fears had clouded?

‘Yes,’ she answered smugly, as if I'd been addressing her directly.

I felt my lips curve into a reluctant smile. ‘Don't get too comfortable with the idea,’ I cautioned her. ‘We still need time.’

‘Time, yes. Rejection, no,’ came her firm reply, accompanied by a mental image of her sitting primly, tail wrapped around her paws in that stubborn posture I'd come to know well over the years.

I was so absorbed in this internal dialogue that I didn't notice Theo's approach until his scent—cedar and stone, honey and lightning—enveloped me. I looked up to find him watching me with curious intensity, his head tilted slightly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice pitched low for privacy. "You seemed... elsewhere."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, caught in my distraction. "I'm fine. Just having a very passionate conversation with Artemis."

His expression shifted instantly, something primal flaring behind his careful composure. "Artemis?"

"My wolf," I explained, watching his reaction with newfound curiosity. "She has... strong opinions about tonight's developments."

A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his regal features into something warmer, more accessible. "Ah. And what might those opinions be?"

Before I could formulate a diplomatic response, something extraordinary happened. His eyes, those amber depths that had held mine with such careful restraint throughout the evening, suddenly blazed with otherworldly light—brilliant purple rimmed with electric blue. The sight sent a shiver down my spine that was equal parts surprise and primal recognition.

My body responded without conscious thought. Heat flooded through me, and I felt Artemis surge forward, pushing against the boundaries between us with unprecedented force. The familiar sensation of my own eyes shifting washed over me—the slight pressure, the momentary blur as human sight gave way to something sharper, more vibrant. I knew from experience that my irises had changed to Artemis's distinctive yellow-green, marking her presence at the surface.

‘Mate,’ she crowed triumphantly within me, her joy exploding like fireworks behind my eyes. In my mind's eye, I could see her prancing in circles, tail waving like a victory flag. The sheer exuberance of her reaction was so overwhelming that I pressed my fingers to my temples, struggling to contain her excitement.

Theo's eyes remained transformed, his Lycan clearly as close to the surface as my wolf. The distance between us, though physically unchanged, seemed to contract, the air charged with something ancient and powerful that transcended rational thought.

Elijah cleared his throat gently beside us, the sound drawing me back to my surroundings with a jolt. I blinked rapidly, willing Artemis to retreat enough for my eyes to return to normal. She complied with reluctance, still bouncing with enthusiasm just beneath the surface of my consciousness.

"I think I might need to go for a run later," I said, my voice emerging rougher than intended. "Artemis is... restless."