



20: Theodore
Across the room, I spotted Elijah and Elena at the bar, their posture alert as they watched our approach. They presented a striking couple—him powerful and commanding, her graceful and perceptive. The protective stance of a pack Alpha was evident in the set of Elijah's shoulders as we drew near.
"Your Majesty," he greeted, the formal address at odds with the personal assessment in his gaze. Beside him, Elena offered a warm smile that held a knowing glint.
"Elijah," I responded, deliberately using his name rather than title. "Elena. I trust you enjoyed your evening?"
"Very much so," Elena replied, her eyes flicking briefly to Emma. "The gardens here are particularly lovely."
Emma released my arm, moving slightly closer to her brother. "Stop interrogating him with your eyes, Eli," she said, her tone lightly chiding despite the undercurrent of affection. "I'm fine."
Elijah's expression softened as he studied his sister. "Are you okay?" he asked, the simple question loaded with layers of meaning.
The corner of Emma's mouth lifted in a genuine smile. "I'm fine, big brother. Artemis enjoyed her run. She's currently dozing and not giving me a headache from all of her prancing."
I couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped me at this characterization. Aeson rumbled contentedly in my mind, remarkably smug at the mention of Artemis's excitement.
‘She liked us,’ he observed unnecessarily. ‘She respected our strength but wasn't afraid.’
The distinction mattered to him—to me—more than I had realized. Not submission, but partnership. Not fear, but respect.
"That sounds like a significant improvement over her earlier state," Elena observed with gentle humour. "She was practically doing somersaults in your mind at the moment of recognition."
Emma flushed slightly, shooting her sister-in-law a look that promised future retribution. "Traitor," she muttered without heat.
The easy familiarity between them spoke of genuine affection. I found myself envious of that casual intimacy, wondering if Emma would ever feel comfortable enough with me to show that unguarded self.
Elijah cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. "Elena and I are going to head back to our room," he said. "We had a long trip this morning, and we should both get some sleep."
His gaze shifted to Emma, one eyebrow rising in pointed suggestion. "And you should get some sleep too, baby sister. I know for a fact you got no sleep last night."
Emma shrugged, the gesture dismissive. "Illness meant we didn't have enough paws on deck to cover border patrol, so I ran a double shift."
"Triple, Emma," Elijah corrected, his voice sharpening with concern. "You ran a triple shift."
She shrugged again, but I caught the slight slump of her shoulders that betrayed her exhaustion. "It was necessary."
I studied her with newfound wonder. Beyond the composed diplomat I'd first noticed, beyond the cautious woman healing from past wounds, beyond even the magnificent white wolf with Alpha power, was this—a person who would push herself to physical limits for her pack's safety. Who would downplay her own sacrifice as simply "necessary."
My fingers tingled with the need to reach for her, but I kept my hands carefully at my sides. "I'd like to walk you back, if that's okay?" I offered instead.
Emma looked up, surprise flitting across her features before she smiled and gave me a small nod.
Elijah watched this exchange with careful assessment, but whatever he saw must have satisfied him. He shared a brief glance with Elena, some silent communication passing between them.
We moved together toward the ballroom exit, our departure causing another ripple of attention through the gathering. Political concerns would need to be addressed eventually—the traditionalists among my council would be in an uproar, diplomatic implications would need to be carefully managed—but for tonight, those considerations seemed distant, less important than the woman walking beside me.
The grand foyer led to a sweeping staircase that branched at the first landing. Elijah and Elena paused there, turning toward the right branch that led to the third floor.
"I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," Elijah said to Emma, his tone making it more instruction than suggestion. He turned to me, offering a nod that managed to convey both respect and warning. "Your Majesty."
"Theo," I corrected gently.
A flicker of approval crossed his face before he took Elena's hand and continued up the stairs.
Emma and I turned left toward the second floor, our footsteps echoing in the marble stairwell. The silence between us felt comfortable despite its newness, as if we'd known each other for years rather than hours.
"Your brother cares deeply for you," I observed as we reached the second-floor landing.
"He worries too much," she replied, though her tone held more fondness than annoyance. "He forgets I was managing just fine before he became Alpha."
"It's not about capability," I said, understanding from my own position of authority. "It's about not wanting those you care for to carry unnecessary burdens."
She glanced at me sideways, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Is that why you're walking me to my room? Royal concern for an ally's welfare?"
"No," I answered honestly. "This is purely selfish. I'm extending every moment I can in your company."
Her cheeks coloured slightly, and she looked away, but not before I caught the pleased curve of her lips.
We reached her door too quickly, the polished wood marked with the number 216 in gleaming gold numerals. She turned to face me, her back to the door, her expression a careful mix of warmth and caution.
"I look forward to seeing you for breakfast," I said, meaning it more than any diplomatic pleasantry I'd ever uttered.
I held out my hand in silent invitation, my heart quickening as she placed her fingers in mine without hesitation. Her skin was warm, slightly calloused in places that spoke of her warrior training. I raised her hand slowly, giving her time to withdraw if she wished, then pressed my lips to her knuckles.
The contact sent a jolt through me, a current of recognition and rightness that Aeson met with a rumble of satisfaction. When I looked up, Emma's eyes had shifted—Artemis's yellow-green gaze meeting mine for a brief, electric moment before human green returned.
"Goodnight, Theo," she said softly, a genuine smile warming her features. My name on her lips felt like a gift, precious in its newness.
"Goodnight, Emma," I replied, reluctantly releasing her hand.
She slipped inside her room, the door closing with a soft click that seemed to echo in the suddenly empty hallway. I remained there a moment longer, staring at the space where she had been, feeling both loss and anticipation in equal measure.
My hands might have been steady as I turned away, but I felt a warmth in my chest, an expanding heat that I recognized as hope. Two centuries of waiting, and finally, I had found her—not in the royal courts or allied Lycan territories as everyone had expected, but in a werewolf with careful eyes and a brave heart.
Tomorrow would bring complications, politics, the weight of centuries of prejudice to dismantle. But tonight, as I made my way back to my own quarters, those challenges seemed surmountable in a way they never had before. For the first time in my long reign, the future I had envisioned—equality, unity, genuine change—felt not just possible but inevitable.
After all, I had found my mate. And she was worth changing the world for.