Chapter 6

Willa

My palm was still burning.

I was furious with him. But beneath the anger, I was deeply, thoroughly furious with myself.

Last night in that clinic room, I had been completely blinded by my own agony. I was hurting, humiliated, and exhausted after Travis had dragged my name through the dirt in front of the entire pack. When Callan crashed into my world, he had used every bit of his overwhelming, dangerous charm to pull me under. My inner wolf had been so pathetically eager, surrendering to his hands, his mouth, and his dark promises without a fight.

I made a vow right then, looking down at my own trembling hands. I would never be weak again. I swore I wouldn't let another ruthless Alpha treat me like an object to be claimed, discarded, or dragged around like a political trophy.

Callan slowly turned his head back toward me. A wicked, slow smirk spread across his sharp jawline, his dark steel-grey eyes gleaming with dangerous amusement.

He took a step into my space, towering over me until his shadow completely swallowed me up.

"Feisty," Callan rumbled.

"I like a female with sharp claws. I will enjoy taming that attitude of yours in my own private quarters, little wolf."

My heart did a traitorous, erratic flutter against my ribs. My throat went bone-dry. Why did he have to be so ridiculously, infuriatingly handsome? Even with the faint red outline of my palm fading on his cheek, he looked like a warrior king sculpted from marble.

"Don't touch me," I snapped, forcing my voice to stay steady. "And don't talk to me like I am one of your frontline soldiers. I want this mark off me. Right now."

"You want it off?" Callan asked, raising a dark eyebrow as a quiet chuckle vibrated in his chest.

"You trapped me," I whispered, my hazel eyes flashing with pure heat. "You took advantage of the mate bond, you marked me without my explicit consent, and now you stand up here declaring me your Queen in front of three different pack territories. Remove it, Callan. Break the bond and take it off."

Callan leaned down, his face stopping mere inches from mine, his warm breath fanning across my lips. "I can't do that, Willa."

"You are the High King!" I hissed. "You can do whatever you want!"

"Not this," he said, his tone dropping into a serious, icy register that made the hair on my arms stand up. "A royal crown mark is not a standard pack bond, Willa. It binds our very souls together in blood. Breaking a fresh crown bond within the first twenty-four hours would rip the life force straight out of both of us. It would kill us both before nightfall."

"You are lying to keep me trapped," I spat.

"Test me," he murmured softly. He reached out with his long fingers, brushing the pad of his thumb lightly against the burning mark on my neck. A violent shockwave of electricity shot down my spine, making my knees go soft. "See what happens if I try to tear my wolf away from yours right now."

"How dare you!"

A shrill, hysterical voice shattered the tension between us.

Darcy came marching up the balcony steps, her golden dress rustling violently, her face contorted in sheer, unadulterated rage.

"How dare you!" Darcy sneered, stepping directly into my face, her sharp nails curling into claws. "You filthy, low-bred clinic stray! You dare lay a hand on the High King? You dare speak to the Alpha King that way?"

I didn't back down an inch. I squared my shoulders, glaring right back at her with cool contempt. "Step back, Darcy. You are crowding my space."

"You should be executed on the spot!" Darcy screamed, turning to Callan with hyperventilating panic. "Sire! She just assaulted you in front of the entire Silvermoon territory! She broke medical protocol, she used illegal dark botany, and now she slaps you? She should be dragged to the courtyard tiles and punished! At least a hundred lashes would put a worthless orphan like her in her place!"

Callan tilted his head slowly, his dark eyes cutting sideways to lock onto Darcy.

Darcy gasped, staggering back two steps as her knees buckled under the weight of his aura.

"Mind the tongue in your mouth, Lady Darcy.” "Speak to your Supreme Queen like that again, and you will be the one taking those hundred lashes on the courtyard dais."

Darcy’s jaw practically hit the floor. "You... you are defending her?" Darcy stammered, horror washing over her features before morphing into ugly jealousy. "Sire, look at her! She is an omega stray! Did you manipulate him, Willa?! What kind of dirty witch potions did you give him last night in that clinic?!"

"I didn't give him anything—"

"You stole him!" Darcy shrieked, her claws digging into her own palms until she nearly drew blood. "You knew he was dying and you trapped him! You don't deserve that mark! You don't deserve that crown! You think you are higher than me now just because you let him put his teeth in you?!"

"Darcy, shut up!" a powerful voice bellowed from the bottom of the stairs.

Travis Keene stepped through the threshold.

He looked disheveled and wild. His black suit jacket was unbuttoned at the collar, his dark hair was a windblown mess, and his eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion and raw fury. "Travis!" Darcy cried out, rushing to the stone railing and pointing a shaking finger at me. "Look at what she did! She used dark medicine on the King! She tricked him into marking her!"

Travis ignored Darcy completely. He strode up the balcony steps, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were stark white.

"What the hell is this?" Travis demanded, his voice trembling with unrestrained anger. "Willa... what did you do?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but Callan immediately stepped sideways, shielding my body with his broad shoulders.

"Watch your tone when addressing my mate, future Alpha Keene," Callan said coldly, his hands resting casually in his suit pockets.

"This is insane!" Travis barked, taking another aggressive step forward, completely abandoning the delicate diplomatic rules of pack hierarchy. "She is a Silvermoon pack doctor! She is low-blooded! This whole thing is a mistake—it cannot happen!"

Callan took one slow, deliberate step forward and released his full, unrestricted Alpha authority.

The sheer, crushing weight of a High King hit Travis. The surrounding guards instantly dropped to one knee, unable to withstand the pressure. Travis gasped, his knees shaking violently as the invisible force slammed into his shoulders, trying to force his body down.

"You stand in the presence of your High King," Callan growled softly. "You failed to bow. You failed to pay respect to your Supreme Queen. That alone carries a sentence of high treason under crown law."

Travis was trembling, cold sweat pouring down his forehead as his wolf fought viciously against the weight of Callan's authority. He was an Alpha's son, proud and arrogant, built to rule his own territory one day. He couldn't stand up straight under the King's pressure, but his wounded pride and a sudden, violent wave of regret completely stripped him of his sanity.

Looking at me standing beside Callan—marked, claimed, and elevated to a throne far beyond his reach. The woman who had written to him for three years, the woman who had waited for him, was no longer his to discard. And now that she belonged to the most powerful man on the continent, Travis perhaps wanted her back with every fiber of his being.

"I don't give a damn about crown law!" Travis snarled through gritted teeth, his storm-grey eyes locking onto mine with desperate, burning possessiveness. "You can't have her, Callan! You stole a female who still belongs to me!"

I gasped, staring at Travis in complete disbelief.