12 hours earlier
The castle is quiet at this hour—too quiet. Stone corridors echo softly beneath our steps, torchlight flickering along the walls as shadows stretch and recede with every movement. Even after all this time, the place still feels like it's holding its breath, as if it remembers too much.
"There's an elder in your office, Kieran, Elder Silvester actually."
My beta and best friend Callen whispers to me as we walk the hallways to my office.
His voice is low, cautious, the way it always gets when politics are involved. Elders are never just visits. They're warnings, demands, or thinly veiled threats dressed up as concern.
"Do you want to change or freshen up first before you go see him?"
His question stops me. I lift a brow at him.
"Why should I do that?"
Giving him a knowing smirk.
Callen exhales sharply through his nose, clearly unimpressed.
"You reek of sex Kieran! If you don't want them to think of you as a playboy maybe stop…, oh I don't know smelling like you just fucked half the pack?"
His gaze is stern—but familiar. He's not judging. He's protecting me, as he always does.
Seriously, I would never take any form of disrespect from anyone. Callen? He's my best friend, my Beta. We've been through so much shit together. He has saved me from countless mistakes, not just on the battlefield but at home dealing with the political bullshit. If it weren't for him and his mate Mayla, I would be in deep shit.
I let the silence stretch for a moment, then sigh, rolling my shoulders.
"Fine, I'll shower first. Let him know I'll be there in 10."
"Yes Alpha."
He says with a bow and walks away.
I roll my eyes at his formality.
When it's just us, him and Mayla don't need to use formalities. They aren't just my staff or my pack members. They are family. The kind you bleed with. The kind that stands beside you when the world wants your crown.
I turn down the corridor toward the Royal wing, boots echoing against marble as the weight of the past settles heavier with every step.
I head to my rooms on the Royal wing of the castle. You can consider it a pack house, although it hasn't been used as one in such a long time. Not since my father, the previous king took reign.
Fucking bastard.
I hope he's enjoying hell.
The castle is divided by wings. There's the Royal family's wing where only the Royal family is allowed to live. It is composed of 5 bedrooms, two offices, a living space and dining space and kitchen.
I'm the only one who lives in it.
So only the master room is being used for now.
There is another room where I used to reside. Before my father died, that used to be my room. It's still decorated as such. The memories of a boy linger there—frozen in time, untouched, like a ghost I refuse to acknowledge.
My mother, Goddess bless her, moved out of the royal wing when the previous king died. She said she couldn't stay here, there were too many horrible memories. I couldn't blame her.
We made her a separate wing on the other side of the castle. Small, modest, just how she'd wanted it. Since I have no Luna she still holds the responsibilities as one. She is the Luna Mother and previous Luna Queen, who is better than her to keep the role?
There's the beta wing just below the Royal wing. Then a guest wing for obviously holding guests. Then two main living wings we had for regular pack members.
They all since moved to their own homes or cottages throughout the pack land since the old King and his tyranny. Safer for them honestly.
There's a pack dining hall. A smaller dining hall, the one we usually use since it's only just the 5 of us. Living space, and a couple offices. Couple different size ballrooms—the whole pompous shitshow royalties have.
There are rooms for house staff, but I wouldn't ever allow staff to remain here and away from their families if they didn't want to. That's my father's way of ruling and cruelty. Unable to see your loved ones when they are only a 5 mins walk.
Fucking shit eating Bastard.
The shower is hot, scalding enough to burn away scent, sweat, and memory. I stand beneath it longer than necessary, letting the water beat against my skin, grounding me before I step back into the political circus.
After my shower I head to my walk in closet to dress in formal business wear. Dark black suit, black shirt, black tie and cufflinks.
Werewolf are promiscuous creatures. It's not like anyone would be surprised that I just came back from having sex with a she-wolf. Maybe given that the she-wolf in question was Roxy, the daughter of a neighboring pack Alpha and great niece of Elder Silvester, showering was a good call—he would have scented her.
I also had to run over here from her pack so all the sweat and dirt wasn't appealing.
I don't ever bring my conquests to the Royal wing.
Hell, I only let Roxy visit the castle now and then because she's a good lay. But I also know it gets in her head. She thinks she's going to be my Queen Luna one day.
She's crazy, fucking power whore.
No one is holding that spot. There's no need.
I am doing just fine with my beta couple and mother.
My father almost ran the pack into the ground and almost had a civil war amongst the wolves. I stepped up, brought the packs together. Saved this pack from total ruin.
Even when the other Alphas wanted to take my position claiming I was too young, too naive.
I fought for my pack, my family, my kingdom, with the people I have now.
I don't need anyone else.
Occasionally maybe a pretty she-wolf to scratch the itch—but that's it.