56: Emma

The crowd pressed in around us, their voices a strange mixture of technical analysis and romantic speculation. Half discussed the finer points of taking down a larger opponent, while the other half cooed over the King and his new mate—me, somehow. I stood there, still catching my breath, my hand clutched in Theo's much larger one, wondering how I'd gone from pack Gamma to spectacle in the span of a single match.

"Did you see how she used his weight against him?" A Lycan guard was explaining to his companion, gesturing wildly with his hands. "Pure technique, not strength."

"But the way he looked at her when she pinned him," a female werewolf sighed dreamily nearby. "Like she hung the moon itself."

I felt heat crawl up my neck, spreading across my cheeks like wildfire. The training mat beneath my feet suddenly seemed intensely interesting as I studied its worn blue surface. Beside me, Theo's thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand, a private gesture amid the public scrutiny.

"They make such a striking pair," someone whispered, not nearly quietly enough. "The King and his white wolf."

Theo leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "They're not wrong," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "We do make quite the pair."

I looked up at him then, at the way the sunlight caught in his dark hair, at the amber of his eyes, warm and inviting. My wolf, Artemis, stretched contentedly within me, basking in his proximity. Despite the crowd, despite everything, I felt anchored by his presence.

"Are you uncomfortable?" he asked, his voice pitched low for me alone. "We can leave if you'd prefer."

Before I could answer, he bent down and kissed me again, his lips gentle but insistent against mine. The surprised gasp of the crowd faded to white noise as I leaned into him, my free hand finding the solid plane of his chest. His heart thundered beneath my palm, matching the frantic rhythm of my own. I kissed him back, letting myself forget, just for a moment, that we had an audience.

Someone wolf-whistled. Others clapped. I broke away, laughing despite myself, resting my forehead against his chest to hide my burning face.

"Get a room, Your Majesties!" a brave werewolf called out, followed by good-natured laughter that rippled through the crowd.

"An excellent suggestion," Theo replied smoothly, his arm wrapping around my waist as he addressed our audience. "I'm afraid I must steal away my mate. Official business, you understand."

The crowd parted for us, their expressions ranging from knowing smirks to outright admiration. Theo's grip on my hand tightened as he guided me through the sea of bodies. His staff and guards nodded respectfully as we passed, but I could feel their curious gazes following us long after we'd exited the training area.

"Let's go get you that shower, my queen," Theo said, squeezing my hand. His voice carried a note of tenderness that made my chest ache.

I squeezed back, grateful for the escape. "Thank you," I murmured, once we were alone in the corridor. The ornate hallway stretched before us, moonlight streaming through tall windows and painting silver rectangles on the marble floor.

"For what?"

"For rescuing me from becoming the day's entertainment," I said, letting my shoulder bump gently against his arm as we walked. "I'm not used to being the centre of attention quite that much."

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant in the quiet hallway. "As my mate, I'm afraid that's something you'll need to get used to. Though I'll do my best to shield you when I can."

I nodded, my thoughts turning to the guest suite I'd been assigned. The idea of returning there, where Benjamin had appeared last night, made my skin crawl. "I'd appreciate using the shower in your suite, if that's okay," I said, keeping my voice casual. "I'd rather not go back to my own right now."

Theo slowed his pace, studying my face with such intensity that I wondered if he could read the thoughts behind my request. "Of course," he said finally. "I'd rather you didn't anyway. After what happened…" He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

"Thank you," I said simply, not wanting to dwell on Benjamin’s antics.

"I'll show you to my suite," Theo continued, guiding me toward a grand staircase I hadn't seen before. "While you're in the shower, I can run back to yours to pick up something new for you to wear."

I smiled up at him, touched by the thoughtfulness. "That'd be great. Though I can't guarantee you'll find anything suitable for a queen in my luggage."

"You could wear a sackcloth and still outshine everyone in the palace," he replied with such earnestness that I couldn't help but laugh.

"Smooth talker," I teased, bumping his shoulder again.

We ascended the staircase, passing portraits of stern-faced Lycans who I assumed were Theo's ancestors. Their painted eyes seemed to follow us, judging the werewolf who dared walk alongside their descendant as an equal. I straightened my spine, refusing to be intimidated by dead royals.

The hallway at the top of the stairs was wider, with higher ceilings and more elabourate decoration. Guards stood at intervals, bowing their heads as we passed. I tried not to fidget under their scrutiny.

"Here we are," Theo said at last, stopping before a set of double doors that towered at least twelve feet high. Intricate carvings covered their surface—scenes of the moon's phases interwoven with running wolves. A pair of guards flanked the entrance, their expressions impassive.

Theo pushed the doors open, and I stepped into what could only be described as a royal apartment. The suite was enormous, easily three times the size of my family home. A sitting area with plush couches and chairs spread out before a fireplace large enough to stand in. Beyond that, I glimpsed a dining area and what appeared to be a private office.