70: Emma

I rinsed the conditioner from my hair, letting the water flow over my face. Everything had changed so quickly. Just days ago, I'd been simply the Gamma of my brother's pack, returned home after years away, determined to forge my own path. Now I stood in the Lycan King's shower, marked by violence but also by possibility.

After toweling my hair partially dry, I wrapped it in a fresh towel turban-style and brushed my teeth vigorously, washing away the medicinal taste that lingered from whatever they had given me to ease the pain.

I stepped back into Theo's bedroom wrapped in a plush white towel, steam following me like a personal cloud. Theo looked up from where he sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes darkening as they traveled over my bare shoulders.

"I had all of your clothes and things moved here from your suite," he said, gesturing toward what I now noticed was my suitcase, neatly placed beside his wardrobe. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Especially after your speech about Artemis choosing me."

Heat flooded my cheeks at the memory of my desperate confession. I walked toward him, drawn as if by magnetic force, coming to stand between his legs where he sat. I wrapped my arms around his neck, the towel precariously clinging to my frame as I leaned down to kiss him.

What began as a gentle gesture quickly deepened as my fingers found the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Theo's hands settled at my waist, careful not to dislodge the towel but firm enough to send shivers racing across my skin. I tasted toothpaste and something darker, something that belonged purely to him.

I stepped back, smirking at the slightly blissed-out look on his face – his pupils dilated, lips parted. "I'm going to get dressed," I said, enjoying the rasp in my own voice. "I'm starving."

Theo nodded, adjusting his position on the bed, and I laughed when I caught him surreptitiously rearranging his trousers. The power of knowing I affected him as strongly as he affected me was intoxicating.

I took my clothes behind the dressing screen, a concession to modesty that felt almost quaint given what we'd already shared, but appropriate for the newness between us. I dried myself thoroughly, slipping on a black matching lingerie set before pulling an emerald green floor-length dress over my head. The silky material whispered against my skin as it fell into place, the colour bringing out the green of my eyes. I stepped into black heels, relishing the familiar confidence they brought despite my still-recovering strength.

Moving to the mirrored wardrobe, I began towel-drying my hair more thoroughly, watching as the dark waves began to form. In the reflection, I saw Theo appear behind me, his hands finding my waist with a gentle possessiveness that made Artemis rumble contentedly inside me.

"You look beautiful, little wolf," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I leaned back against him slightly, our eyes meeting in the mirror. Something about seeing us this way – his taller frame behind mine, his hands at my waist, the contrast of his amber eyes against my green ones – made everything feel suddenly real in a way it hadn't before.

"I feel underdressed," he said after a moment, his thumbs tracing small circles against the silk of my dress. "I'm going to change, then we can go get dinner."

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and watched in the mirror as he stepped away. He stripped off his casual shirt with efficient movements, muscles rippling beneath tanned skin. I made no pretense of not watching as he replaced it with a crisp white shirt, methodically fastening buttons before adding a blue tie that brought out flecks of colour in his eyes. He changed from jeans into black trousers, the material tailored perfectly to his frame, before sliding on a black suit jacket.

"Ready?" he asked, offering his arm with a slight bow that managed to be both playful and regal.

I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling strangely ceremonial. "Ready."

We walked through the expansive royal suite toward the doors, Theo matching his naturally longer stride to accommodate my still-recovering pace. The guards stationed outside straightened to attention as we approached, one of them stepping forward to open the door with a deferential bow.

"My King," the guard said, his eyes flicking to me. "My Queen."

The title sent a jolt through me – not unpleasant, but startling in its formality. Theo's hand covered mine where it rested on his arm, a subtle reassurance, as we proceeded down the corridor.

Two more guards flanked the elevators, bowing in unison as we approached. The descent to the main floor was silent, filled with a curious tension – not awkward, but expectant. I could feel Artemis just beneath my skin, more present than she'd been since before the attack, alert and strangely satisfied.

The dining room doors stood open, revealing a space I'd glimpsed only briefly during the summit preparations – a magnificent hall with soaring ceilings, crystal chandeliers casting warm light over polished tables. As we crossed the threshold, a curious phenomenon rippled through the room – conversation halted mid-sentence, chairs scraped against the floor, and everyone present rose to their feet, bowing with varying degrees of grace.

The silence was complete for three heartbeats, then broke like a wave against shore as voices raised in greeting.

"Your Majesty!"

"So pleased to see you recovered, my Queen!"

"My King, my Queen!"

Theo's hand tightened over mine, steadying me against the onslaught of attention. I scanned the room, recognizing faces from the summit – werewolf pack representatives, Lycan council members, diplomatic staff. Near the centre table, I spotted Elijah and Elena rising from their seats, my brother's face alight with relief.

Theo guided me forward, his presence commanding without being overbearing. People parted before us like water, some reaching out to touch my arm or shoulder in welcome, others merely nodding respectfully. I felt oddly disconnected, as if observing myself from above – the woman in the emerald dress walking beside the Lycan King, accepting their deference as if born to it.

Elijah met us halfway across the room, not waiting for protocol. He swept me into a hug that lifted me slightly off my feet, his familiar scent – pine and leather – washing over me.

"Look at you," he said as he set me down, his hands on my shoulders, eyes scanning my face with brotherly scrutiny. His smile widened, something like pride mingling with the relief in his expression. "You look every bit the future Queen."

The words settled over me like a mantle – heavy with responsibility but oddly right. Beside me, Theo's hand found the small of my back, a warm anchor to this new reality we were building together.