Chapter 6: The Weight Of The Crown

Andrew’s POV

The chamber door shut with a heavy thud, leaving only silence behind. Elena’s scent still lingered in the air, faint but maddening, searing into my memory and making me restless. My hand flexed against my thigh where moments ago it had circled around her throat. I could still feel the warmth of her pulse, the tremble of her breath beneath my grip, the way her lips had parted when I leaned in.

“Damn her.”

I should have sent her out the moment she stepped through that door. Instead, I’d let her stay. I’d let her speak. Worse, I’d let the bond pull me toward her like a fool. If my mother hadn’t walked in, only the goddess knows what would've happened.

“Elena, leave us,” I had ordered, and without a word she obeyed, walking past my mother with her head lowered like an obedient kitten. The sound of her retreating footsteps echoed in my ears long after she was gone.

I pushed the thought away, and continued to stare at the beautiful woman before me. She had a deep frown on her face earlier, but when her eyes met mine, they softened slightly, and slowly she nodded at me with a smile. 

“You did well,” she muttered, fumbling with her hands. “You stood your ground, it's something I'm glad to see."

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair before dropping into the chair behind my desk. The weight of her words pressed against me, heavier than I wanted to admit.

“You think so?” I muttered.

“I know so,” she replied, stepping further into the chamber. 

“The elders may doubt you. They cling to tradition, to bonds, to foolish prophecy. But you are the Alpha, you cannot afford weakness. Rejecting that girl was the right choice. She would drag you down, Andrew. I saw it in her eyes today—timid and fragile. That is not what this pack needs besides its leader.”

She sounded certain, and her words should have eased the storm inside me. Instead, they twisted it tighter.

“She is still my mate,” I said quietly, surprising even myself with the admission.

My mother’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing. “The Moon Goddess makes mistakes, too. Do not let that bond blind you, son. You chose strength. Selene is strength, and that is what matters.”

My heart wavered, and I sighed and poured myself another glass of whiskey, staring blankly at the wall before taking a slow sip.

“Don’t worry about the elders,” my mother continued. “They will fall in line. And Elena? She will learn her place soon enough. You have more important things to focus on. The harvest festival is in two days. The hunters need your approval for the next raid. And Selene is expecting you tonight.”

I scoffed, twisting my lips. Selene, waiting for me with her lustful eyes, her perfect posture, her broad smile. She was everything my mother praised—beautiful, ambitious and untouchable.

Yet when I closed my eyes, it wasn’t Selene I saw. It was Elena. Her defiance, her trembling frame, her lips parting under my grip.

"Damn it all."

Suddenly, my mother’s hand pressed lightly against my shoulder, drawing my mind back to reality. “Come, Andrew, you should eat something. A leader must stay strong.”

My eyes flicked to the tray of food waiting near the table. My stomach churned, and I replied with a hoarse voice. “I’ll be there soon,” I rasped, swallowing the lump in my throat.

My mother gave me a satisfied nod, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple like she used to when I was younger. “Good, but don’t keep me waiting.”

Then she turned and left, leaving me alone in the room with my numerous thoughts. I leaned back in my chair, staring down at the glass in my hand. I lifted it to my lips and drank it all in one go, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat. But no amount of whiskey could wash away Elena’s memories from my mind.

I hated the way she looked at me—defiant yet vulnerable, as though she knew I wanted to break her and save her at the same time. The way her voice trembled when she swore she wouldn’t leave, even knowing the whole pack whispered against her. The way she leaned her body toward mine, as if some part of her still wanted me.

The bond pulsed, unrelenting. It was supposed to fade with rejection, but instead it burned hotter, crueler, mocking me every time she was near.

I closed my eyes, pressing the glass to my forehead. The elders’ voices echoed in my mind—warnings of sickness, unrest, rival packs circling like vultures. Rowan’s stubborn words, accusing me of tempting fate.

Then my mother’s voice, reassuring, commanded me to hold fast. Selene’s voice, honeyed and sweet, promising me loyalty and strength.

And beneath it all, Elena’s whispers. "If rejecting me made you stronger, then why do you still care?"

I tightened my grip around the glass, and bit my lower lip bitterly. She's right. Why did I still care? I gulped down and fixed my gaze on the wall, but all I saw was Elena's face. The mate I’d cast aside, the weakness I refused to accept, the bond I couldn’t break.

I took another drink, lost in the pull of thoughts I couldn’t silence, the weight of the crown pressing heavier on my shoulders more than before.

Just then, the door opened and I straightened instantly and responded. “Enter!"

The door swung open and Rowan strode inside with a pale face. His eyes flicked to me, then around the chamber as though checking if we were alone.

“What is it?” I demanded, and he swallowed hard and responded in a low tone, lowering his head as if he's afraid to look me in the face.

“It’s

Elena.”

"What about her?" I asked, my pulse already stumbling.