His Princess, His Rival

“The heir to this kingdom cannot be wolfless.”

My father, Alpha King Wulfric Aldermoor, watched me from his chair. “I have decided to choose another heir.”

I was his only child.

“I have a wolf. I just—”

“Need more time?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We've had this conversation, Arianne.”

“Then you should know my answer by now.” I squared my shoulders. “She's real, Father, whether you believe me or not.”

His hand dropped to the armrest. “Then show me. One last time.”

Argent, I said. Come on.

I'm here.

Her voice filled my head, as familiar as my own.

I closed my eyes and reached for Argent. My jaw clenched as I tried to shift.

Come on, Argent. Give me something I can show him.

I opened my eyes and checked my hands. My nails were still short and blunt.

Father's face settled into an expression I knew too well.

“Enough.” He leaned back, his mouth drawn tight. “I have wasted enough time on this lie.”

We're not lying, Argent whimpered in my head. I need at least two more years to get my strength back.

“I wouldn't lie about this.” I took a step toward him. “Why would I keep asking you to watch if I knew—”

His cough cut me off.

He bent forward, one hand braced on his knee. The sound tore through his chest, and when he pulled his other hand from his mouth, there was blood between his fingers.

“Your Majesty!”

The attendant hurried over with a folded white towel. I reached my father before he did, then stopped with my hands out, unsure where I could touch him without hurting him.

“Father?”

He took the towel and covered his mouth. His elbow slipped off the chair arm, and the attendant caught it before he tipped sideways.

All the things I wanted to say stayed in my throat.

“That's enough for today.” He leaned back, his breathing rough. “Alpha Camp will begin soon, and there is something we need to settle.”

I'd heard about Alpha Camp. Every five years, the children of alphas gathered there to compete in the Alpha Rite and prove they were fit to lead.

“Can it wait?” I asked, watching his hand. “You should rest.”

“No.” He straightened in his chair. “I will name the strongest of the alphas’ sons my heir.”

My hands dropped to my sides.

“He will also become your husband.”

I stared at him. He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, covering the blood on his wrist, and waited for my answer.

“So he gets a kingdom and a wife,” I said. “Very generous of you. You've managed to replace me and marry me off in the same conversation.”

“Arianne.” His voice sharpened, though he didn't have the breath to raise it.

I rubbed the heel of my hand under one eye before he could see it watering.

“You used to believe me,” I said.

His eyes closed for a moment. “I believed you would shift.”

“I've trained for years,” I said. “Apart from shifting, what can they do that I can’t? And just because I can’t shift yet doesn’t mean I never will.”

“A princess with no gift and no wolf will need a man to depend on.” He held my gaze. “You cannot afford to pretend otherwise.”

“Then let me enter the camp.”

His fingers stilled on his cuff. I stepped closer before he could dismiss me.

“Let me compete. If being able to shift makes them so much better than me, they shouldn't mind proving it.”

“This isn’t just another argument for you to win.”

“Then give me something else to win.” I planted myself in front of his chair. “A place in the camp, with the same chance you'd give an alpha's son.”

He studied me for a moment, his mouth drawn tight. Then he glanced toward the attendant, who stood with his eyes lowered and his empty hands clasped.

“Very well.” He let out a tired breath. “Go. See the difference between yourself and those you think you can beat.”

“And if I win?”

“Then you’ll be my heir. But you’ll enter as an ordinary alpha’s daughter. No special treatment. Reveal who you are, and you’re disqualified.”

“I won’t,” I said. “And I will win.”

“If you can’t keep up, you withdraw,” he said firmly. “You have nothing to prove by getting yourself killed.”

…

The day before I left, I stood at my mother’s grave in a green wool coat. Her name was carved into the stone: Mara Wren.

Her photograph sat above her name. Red hair spilled over one shoulder, and her green eyes stared straight into the camera, her smile wide enough to show her teeth.

I had her hair and her eyes. I wished I'd had a chance to find out what else.

“I'm going away tomorrow,” I said, Father's cough from that morning still echoing in my head. “Father agreed. He thinks it'll teach me a lesson, so one of us is going to be disappointed.”

A blade of grass clung to the photograph's lower edge. I picked it off and wiped a smear of water from the glass with my sleeve.

Almost no one in the kingdom knew my mother had been human. To them, she was Father's mysterious fated mate—the woman who had died giving birth to me. Since then, no one had dared mention her in his presence.

He'd survived her death, but each year left him weaker.

Now he had to stop for breath between sentences. Today, I had paused outside his door and listened before knocking, waiting to hear him move inside.

Losing a fated mate could kill a wolf.

“He's trying to make sure someone will look after me,” I said. My voice sounded too loud in the quiet. “I know that.”

I lowered myself onto the damp grass. There was no one here to argue with, and it took me longer to say the rest.

“I'm scared, Mother.”

The words came out small. I swallowed and made myself finish.

“What if I win and he isn't here?”

Her smile stayed bright behind the glass. I bent my head.

“I just want him to be proud of me once.” My voice broke. “Before it's too late.”