77: Emma

The corridor stretched before us, our footsteps a soft percussion against marble floors as we made our way back to Theo's suite. His fingers were intertwined with mine, warm and steady, a constant that had somehow become essential in the span of a single week. Behind us, our guards maintained a respectful distance—close enough to protect, far enough for us to pretend we were alone.

I still wasn't used to it—the way servants and ministers alike dropped into bows and curtsies, the way "Your Majesty" fell from their lips so naturally when I passed. Seven days ago, I'd been simply Emma Maxwell, Gamma of the Blood Moon Pack. Now I wore a title that pressed against my shoulders with the same weight as Theo's hand at the small of my back.

"You're quiet," Theo murmured, his voice low enough that only my werewolf hearing could catch it.

I tilted my head toward him, studying the sharp line of his jaw, the amber eyes that seemed to glow even in the well-lit hallway. "Just thinking about how much has changed," I admitted. "A week ago, I was worried about pack finances and winter preparations. Now I'm worried about kingdom politics."

His thumb traced a gentle circle against my palm.

We reached the massive double doors of the royal suite. The guards positioned themselves on either side with practiced efficiency, their faces impassive but not unkind. One of them—a young Lycan with russet fur at the edges of his human form—opened the door with a formal nod. "Your Majesties."

The door closed behind us with a soft click, and suddenly the world shrank to just this room, just us. The tension I hadn't realized I'd been carrying in my shoulders began to melt away.

Theo didn't hesitate. His arms encircled my waist, pulling me against the solid warmth of his chest. His lips brushed my forehead, the gesture tender yet possessive.

"You're amazing, my Queen," he whispered against my skin.

I raised one eyebrow, a gesture I knew conveyed scepticism more eloquently than words. A week was such a short time to make such grand declarations, even with the intensity of what we'd been through together.

His smile deepened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "That look. That's exactly what I mean."

"What look?" I asked, trying and failing to smooth my expression.

"The one that says you're not convinced. That you're reserving judgment until you have more evidence." His hands slid up my arms, leaving trails of warmth. "You're everything not only I could wish for, but everything the Kingdom needs."

I gave him a small smile, uncertain how to respond to such praise. The enormity of my new role still frightened me sometimes, when I allowed myself to think about it. "I hope I can be everything the Kingdom needs, anyway," I said softly.

Theo's eyes darkened with an emotion I couldn't quite name. He kissed my forehead again, his lips lingering. "You already are," he assured me. "Our people love you, Emma. They love that you're smart, not afraid to say no, you will back up what you believe in and shoot down what you don't."

His words warmed something inside me that had been cold for too long. But still, I wondered if he was seeing what he wanted to see, rather than reality. "They barely know me," I pointed out.

"They know enough." His voice had turned serious. "And they love that you're human—or, well, you know what I mean." He smiled, acknowledging the awkwardness of describing a werewolf as "human". "You make me seem more human. And somehow," he continued, his voice dropping to something like awe, "you make everyone around you want to do better, to be better."

The sincerity in his voice made my throat tighten. I'd spent so long believing I was the problem—that I was the reason Benjamin had treated me the way he did. The reason he'd tried to control me, diminish me, and then kidnap me to force his mark on me again. Hearing Theo speak of me this way still felt like a dream I might wake from.

His mouth found mine, gentle at first, then with growing urgency. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire, but also something deeper. "You're everything I could have ever wished for and more," he said, the words a rough whisper.

I lifted my hand to his face, tracing the angular lines of his cheekbone. The stubble on his jaw rasped against my palm, a delicious friction that sent shivers down my spine. The physical attraction between us was undeniable—had been from the moment we met—but it was the rest that still surprised me. The way he listened when I spoke. The way he considered my opinions, even when they conflicted with his own. The way he fought for me, not as a possession to be won, but as a partner to be protected.

"I never thought I'd have what my brother has in Elena," I admitted, my voice barely audible. "Not after Benjamin." The name still tasted bitter on my tongue, but less potent now. Less powerful. "I'd convinced myself that kind of partnership wasn't for me."

Theo's eyes flashed at Benjamin's name, a brief reminder of the Lycan king beneath the man who held me. Benjamin Thorne sat in a cell beneath this very palace, awaiting trial for what he'd done to me. What he'd tried to do.

"I'm grateful you managed to show me I deserved better," I continued, leaning into his touch as his hand cupped my cheek. "That I wasn't the problem. Benjamin was.”

Something softened in his expression. His thumb brushed across my lower lip in a gesture that was both tender and unexpectedly sensual. "You deserved better from the moment you drew your first breath," he said. "Benjamin Thorne was never worthy of you. Not for a single instant."

The conviction in his voice made my eyes sting. I blinked rapidly, determined not to cry. Not now, when we were alone and I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in him, in us, in this fragile, precious thing we were building.

A smile spread across Theo's face, transforming his regal features into something boyish and warm. "I love you, Emeline Maxwell," he said, and though we'd said the words before, they still felt new. Still felt miraculous.

"And I love you, Theodore Lykoudis," I replied, the formal name feeling right for this moment, this declaration.