24: Theodore

As we approached, I caught the shift in Stavros's expression—the flash of disdain that preceded his response. "I fail to see why a pack that can't secure its own borders deserves Crown intervention. Perhaps if they spent less time enabling females to play at being warriors—"

"Minister," I interrupted, my voice carrying the full weight of royal authority.

Stavros turned, his expression smoothing instantly into practiced deference. "Ah, my King." He bowed his head in the traditional gesture of respect, though the movement held the stiff formality that had always characterized our interactions. When he straightened, his gaze flicked contemptuously toward Emma. "I was just explaining to this... gamma... why her request for military engineers cannot be accommodated."

His emphasis on "gamma" carried layers of dismissal—of her rank, her gender, her species. But it was his next words that ignited my temper.

"You also might instruct your subject on proper protocol, Your Majesty," he added, gesturing toward Emma's unbowed head. "Some seem to forget their place in your presence."

Emma's aura flared visibly at the insult, the green shimmer intensifying around her shoulders. I felt Elijah tense beside me, his own protective instincts engaged. But it was the emotion flooding through our bond that truly alarmed me—not just anger now, but humiliation layered with a deeper, older pain that made my chest ache.

"I believe," I said, keeping my voice deliberately even, "that I made my preferences regarding formality quite clear last night, Minister Stavros."

Stavros blinked, momentarily thrown by my response. "Your Majesty?"

"Emma does not need to bow to me," I clarified, moving to stand beside her rather than between her and Stavros. A subtle positioning, but one loaded with meaning. "Nor does she need to use my title. These were my explicit instructions."

Confusion flickered across his features, followed by the beginnings of suspicion. "As you wish, Your Majesty, though I must point out that maintaining proper protocol is essential for—"

"What's essential, Minister Stavros," I interrupted, "is explaining why Eclipse Moon's request for assistance was denied without it even crossing my desk."

The direct question caught him off-guard. His throat worked briefly before he responded. "The request was deemed non-essential by the defense council. Given our limited resources—"

"And yet we have forty-three military engineers currently assigned to renovating the ceremonial training grounds," I noted. "A project that has no strategic value whatsoever."

"The training grounds are a symbol of Lycan heritage," he protested. "They represent—"

"They represent your priorities, Minister, not mine." I turned toward Emma, whose aura had begun to settle, though the tension in her frame remained. "The Eclipse Moon request will be approved immediately. Please inform Alpha Donovan that engineers will arrive within the week."

Emma's eyes widened slightly, surprise momentarily replacing anger. "Thank you," she said simply.

Stavros stiffened, his jaw clenching visibly. "Your Majesty, I must protest. This circumvents established protocols for resource allocation. The council has procedures—"

"Procedures that have consistently disadvantaged werewolf territories," I finished for him. "I'm well aware, Minister. Which is why I'll be conducting a comprehensive review of the defense council's allocation decisions over the past five years."

His face paled beneath its tan. "That's hardly necessary, Your Majesty. I assure you, all decisions have been made with the kingdom's best interests at heart."

"Then you should welcome the review," I replied smoothly. "After all, transparency serves us all."

The political threat hung in the air between us, unspoken but unmistakable. Stavros had been a thorn in my side since my ascension to the throne, his traditional views on Lycan supremacy directly opposing my efforts toward equality. But he was clever, careful to maintain plausible deniability in his obstructionism. A formal review would expose patterns his individual decisions concealed.

"Of course, Your Majesty," he conceded finally, bowing again with militaristic precision. "I'll see to it personally that the engineers are dispatched."

"Thank you, Minister." I dismissed him with a slight nod.

He turned to leave, then paused, unable to resist one parting shot. "Oh, and Gamma Maxwell," he said, his tone neutral yet somehow deeply insulting, "in future, requests of this nature should come through your Alpha. It's... inappropriate... for females to address military matters directly."

Before I could respond, Emma stepped forward, the movement so fluid it seemed almost casual. But nothing about her posture or expression was casual. The air around her shimmered again, and when she spoke, her voice carried an undertone that wasn't entirely human.

"Minister Stavros," she said, each word precise as a blade, "in the future, when you need fifteen of our pack members to retrieve your elite strike team lost in the northern mountains during blizzard conditions, please remember it was this female who led the rescue mission that saved their lives."

Stavros's expression froze, shock flashing across his features before he could mask it. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away, his back rigid with affronted dignity.

The moment he disappeared around a corner, Emma's shoulders sagged slightly. She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath as the shimmering aura around her gradually faded. When she opened them again, I caught a flash of yellow-green before her normal forest colour returned—Artemis retreating beneath the surface.

"I apologise," she said quietly. "That was... unprofessional of me."

"No," I said, surprising myself with the fervor in my voice. "It was long overdue."

Elijah made a sound that might have been suppressed laughter. "You've been wanting to throw that in his face for three years," he noted, his tone lighter than the situation perhaps warranted. "Though your timing could use work."

Emma's lips curved in a reluctant smile. "He brings out the worst in me."

"On the contrary," I said, allowing myself to reach for her hand. Her fingers were cool against mine, the contact sending a current of warmth up my arm. "I think he brings out exactly who you are. And that's something he fears more than he can admit."

She looked up at me, surprise softening to something warmer that made my breath catch. For a moment, we stood connected by that simple touch, the mate bond humming between us like a plucked string. I felt Aeson settle within me, his earlier protective fury transformed to contentment at having our mate safe beside us.

"We should get back," Elijah said finally, though his tone suggested he was reluctant to interrupt the moment. "Elena and Christian will be wondering what's happened."

Emma nodded, gently withdrawing her hand from mine. The loss of contact left me strangely bereft, but the small smile she offered in its place was compensation enough.

"Back to breakfast," she agreed. "And then we can discuss those displaced families properly."