REED DONOVAN

Reed pov

I smelt her before I saw her.

Juicy, fresh, floral. Crisp apple, lush jasmine, and creamy vanilla. It hit me like a storm—wild, warm, and maddening.

Then I saw her.

And before I could stop myself, I said it.

“Mate.”

The room froze.

Scarlett Monroe looked as if she had been struck. Her eyes widened, lips parted, breath catching. Her reaction was irrelevant to my purpose here.

I approached the center of the hall with measured steps. The scent of lies and ambition lingered here more than any perfume.

“Prince Reed,” Alpha Reyes said, his tone polite but tense. “We are… honored by your unexpected arrival.”

I nodded once. “Then perhaps you can explain why the Royal House received no formal notice of a succession ceremony in your territory.”

A beat of silence.

“That’s—” Reyes glanced toward the council members. “We hadn’t finalized—”

“You initiated the ritual of succession,” I interrupted. “You called a gathering of Alphas. You allowed your son to take the dais in the absence of the rightful heir—without divine rite, without challenge, without even a blood claim.”

Scarlett’s chin lifted slightly. The Beta at her side—Kael—visibly tensed.

“And now,” I continued, “the rightful heir has returned.”

“She was presumed lost,” Reyes said coolly.

“Presumed,” I echoed. “Without trial. Without verdict. And without informing the royal court of her status. You did not seek counsel. You did not request permission to break the Monroe bloodline. You did not request approval to name a new Alpha.”

One of the council members stepped forward—an elder woman with grey hair and a crimson sash.

“Your Highness, many of us on this council have served since Alpha Monroe’s time. We remained loyal to the bloodline. We did not approve this transition.”

“Then why was it allowed to proceed?” I asked.

Her gaze flickered toward Reyes. “We feared retaliation. We could not act alone.”

“And yet you stand here now,” I replied, my voice low, but steady. “Now that it’s convenient.”

Scarlett’s voice rang out then—sharp, clear. “They didn’t stand for me. They just stood back.”

The room grew tense.

I glanced at her briefly. She wasn’t trembling. She wasn’t begging. Her eyes were stormy, unreadable. Conflicted.

But not broken.

Darius stepped forward. “I have held this pack together in her absence. I trained under Reyes. I earned the trust of this territory.”

“With what claim?” I asked. “You have no Monroe blood. No divine mark. No rite. This is not earned. It is stolen.”

The Hawkfang Alpha—a visiting dignitary—cleared his throat. “Respectfully, Your Highness, how would you like to proceed?”

“With a royal review,” I answered. “Effective immediately.”

Shock rippled through the room.

Kael finally spoke, his voice tight. “You can’t just walk in and claim jurisdiction.”

I turned to face him. “And you are?”

“Kael. Beta of oakwood pack.”

“And also personally involved with the heir?” I asked.

He said nothing.

“Then your judgment is compromised. You may observe, but you will not interfere.”

Kael’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing else.

Scarlett’s voice rose again, colder now. “So what? You came to claim your title and accidentally found your mate? Convenient.”

My gaze snapped to hers. “This isn’t convenient. It’s inconvenient. It complicates everything.”

She blinked.

“My presence here is not about our bond,” I said evenly. “It is about the law. Your mother’s death. Your imprisonment. The attempted succession. None of these were reported to the Lycan King. That alone warrants intervention.”

Reyes took a step forward. “With all due respect, Your Highness, oakwood pack affairs are our own.”

“Incorrect,” I replied. “Once succession is challenged, and the divine order potentially disrupted, it becomes royal concern. The Goddess marked the Monroe line. Not you. Not your son.”

Council murmurs filled the space again. One of the elders stepped forward. “If the Crown supports a review, we will comply.”

Reyes’s glare darkened. “And if I don’t?”

I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to.

“Then you risk your title. And your life.”

Dead silence.

Scarlett stepped forward again. “So what now?”

“Now?” I said. “The council will submit to full review. Records will be gathered. Testimonies taken. No further attempts at succession will be made until the process is complete. You will be escorted to neutral quarters.”

“And me?” she asked.

“You’re coming with me.”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“The safest place for you right now is under royal protection. Given your status, your history—and your bond to me—you are now considered a person of interest to the Crown.”

“I’m not yours to claim,” she snapped.

“I’m not claiming you,” I said. “I’m protecting an asset.”

She looked ready to argue—but Lucian caught her arm, shaking his head once.

Then the doors burst open. A guard rushed in, pale and breathless.

“Your Highness,” he gasped. “Urgent report.”

“Speak,” I said.

“There’s been an attack. Northern border. Rogue-like movements. Twenty guards dead. No scent trail. No survivors.”

Reyes swore. Darius’s face paled.

I looked at Scarlett. And for the first time, she looked back.

Whatever she saw in my face—it stopped her cold.

I turned to the council. “Seal the hall. No one leaves. We are no longer dealing with a dispute. We are dealing with a breach of security.”

“What does that mean?” Darius asked.

“It means,” I said, “you’re no longer the biggest threat in this room.”