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Elsa’s POV

I didn’t belong here. That thought just kept circling in my head as I stood way at the back, clutching my boys so tight my arms ached. The place was overflowing. Wolves from packs I’d never even seen, some witches in their glittery robes, a couple of humans watching with creepy little smiles, everybody who thought they mattered was here. And all of them came to watch Riguel become Lycan King.

The whole ground looked… I don’t even know. Impressive, but in a cold way. Big altars carved out of stone, fire bowls spitting sparks into the night, banners hanging like we were at some grand festival. The air was so thick with incense I could barely breathe. People were dressed to impress, whispering, grinning, like they were about to watch some fairy tale ending.

And there I was, standing there with three babies pressed against me. My babies. Warm and soft and perfect, with no clue their father had already planned how to use them to crown himself. No clue that all this noise, all this excitement, was because of them. Because of their blood.

Old Marcus, the elder, was going on and on about Riguel’s strength and vision and loyalty. His beard shook every time he shouted a word like glorious or rightful. The crowd lapped it up, clapping and cheering like Riguel was some savior. My stomach twisted so hard I thought I might throw up right there.

“And now,” Marcus boomed, “we honor the Alpha’s heirs, who secure his place as Lycan King!”

The crowd roared again. I wanted to scream. None of them knew. None of them had heard what I’d heard.

Riguel stepped forward then, tall and proud and smug, ready to take what he thought he’d earned. He looked so sure of himself, like the universe had always meant for this crown to sit on his head. Like I wasn’t standing there with the memory of his betrayal burning holes in my chest.

That was when something in me snapped.

I pushed forward, one step, then another, legs shaking like they’d give out. People turned, murmuring, eyes narrowing. Luna didn’t interrupt this. It was taboo, blasphemy. But I wasn’t going to stop. I couldn’t.

“Stop,” I said, louder than I thought I could. My voice cut across the whole space.

And everything froze.

No whispers, no clapping. Just silence. A silence so sharp it made the hair on my arms rise. Marcus gawked at me like I’d crawled out of the ground. Someone in the crowd gasped.

Riguel turned. Slowly. And for a heartbeat, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. That flicker of fear in his eyes almost made me smile.

“Elsa,” he said, low, dangerous, the way he always spoke when he wanted me to obey. “Leave the circle. Now.”

“No.” My voice trembled, but I kept going. “They need to hear the truth before they crown you.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he growled, stepping toward me.

But Marcus, damn him, lifted a hand to stop him. Tradition. Once words were spoken in the circle, they had to be heard. Even Riguel couldn’t break that.

I looked at the sea of faces. Hundreds of them were staring at me. Waiting.

“You all think he’s some great leader, a faithful mate, a proud father,” I said, louder, stronger. “But three nights ago, while I was fighting for my life to bring these boys into the world, do you know where he was?”

Not a sound. Even the children had gone still.

“He was in bed with my step-sister, Mira. Whispering to her that I was nothing but a breeding vessel. Not his Luna. That once I gave him sons, he’d throw me aside. That she was his true mate.”

The gasp that went through the crowd shook the ground. People muttered, eyes darting from me to Riguel.

“That’s enough,” Riguel snapped, his jaw clenched tight.

“No!” My voice broke into a shout. “It’s not enough! I heard him! While I was bleeding and screaming, he was with her!”

The crowd started stirring, people grabbing each other, whispering in shock or anger.

I held my babies tighter, so tight they squirmed in their sleep. My heart pounded, but I wasn’t done. Not yet.

“So before you bend the knee to this man, before you hand him a crown, you should know who he really is.” I took a shaky breath. “And I want you all to see this.”

I squared my shoulders, even though my legs wanted to buckle.

“I, Elsa Greenwood, reject you, Riguel Morrison, as my mate, my Alpha, my husband. I break our bond here and now, in front of all.”

The place exploded. People were shouting, some horrified, some gleeful. Mate rejection in public? During a coronation? It was insane. But it was done.

And I still had one last blade to twist.

“These babies…” I lifted them for everyone to see, though my arms shook with the effort. “They aren’t his. They can’t be. Because he’s impotent. Cursed by his betrayal. He cannot father children.”

The lie slid out smooth, just like I’d practiced a hundred times in my head.

Chaos erupted like a storm. Wolves yelling, some even half-shifting, teeth bared. The humans looked like they’d been handed a free show. The witches whispered fast, their faces already calculating what this would mean. Marcus stammered, pale as death.

“Luna, these are grave accusations…”

“They’re not accusations,” I cut him off. “They’re facts. And the law is clear. If paternity is disputed during a rejection, the children cannot inherit. Which means no heirs. Which means no king.”

That was the moment Riguel realized it. I saw it in his face. Anger drained into shock, into horror. His throne had just dissolved under his feet.

“You lying bitch!” he roared, lunging at me.

Hands grabbed him, held him back. The crowd was in a frenzy now, voices crashing into each other.

I backed away, still holding my sons. They were starting to fuss from all the noise, soft whimpers against my chest.

“It’s okay, babies,” I whispered into their hair. “Mama’s got you. We’re leaving.”

The shouting rose behind me, but it was cover now, perfect cover. No one noticed me slipping out of the circle, weaving into the mass of pack members on the outer edges.

My heart hammered so loud I thought I’d faint. But step by step, I got further, until the sacred ground was behind me and I was in the parking area.

I kissed each of my sons on their foreheads. “We did it,” I whispered. “We’re free. He can’t use you now.”

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. If I saw Riguel’s face again, I might break.

So I just kept moving, clutching my boys like they were the only thing keeping me alive.

Because they were.