Fixing Her Crown

Adrian’s POV

The door shut behind me with a finality that cracked something inside my chest. I stood in the corridor, claws digging into my palm until blood started dripping out.

My neck throbbed where she’d bitten me…marked me…and the pain was a goddamn symphony of pleasure. Every pulse of blood through the wound sang her name: Abby, Abby, Abby. My mate. My queen. The one I’d spent a year and some months breaking.

I’d hated her before I ever saw her face.

They called her the Wolfless Princess, the reject, the shame of her kingdom. Rumors slithered through the council halls like smoke about her inadequacies. She can’t shift. She’s weak. She’s nothing.

When her father, King Ariston, offered her to me as a “gift” to warm my bed, not to wed, I laughed in his face. A wolfless girl? I was the central Alpha King, mateless and proud, drowning in willing she-wolves who begged for my bite. I didn’t need a broken toy.

I sent her away the same night she arrived. Told the guards to lock her in the east wing, far from my rooms, far from my thoughts. I had mistresses lining up, bodies I could lose myself in, and a throne that didn’t need a defective queen.

The elders cornered me weeks later to marry her in name only for the sake of politics. To secure the alliance.

“Keep your whores. No one has to know she’s nothing,” they urged. It was ridiculous, but I agreed. A signature on parchment. A title she’d never earn. I’d keep her caged, nameless, untouched. I wanted her gone from my blood, my kingdom, my life.

I thought that I was mateless by choice. But I was wrong.

It wasn’t until the moment she lay bleeding in my arms, nearly dead from poison, that her scent finally broke through the lies. Sweet, wild, mine. Not wolfless. Not weak. My mate. The one the Moon had hidden behind rumors and my own blind rage.

I pressed my palm to the mark, and a moan tore out of me, low and filthy, echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

Her teeth…small, human-sharp, but fierce as any wolf’s…had sunk into me like a brand. I could still taste her on my tongue…honey and salt, wildflowers crushed under a storm.

My cock jerked against my ruined pants, aching, leaking, begging to be buried inside her. I’d licked her open like a starving beast, and she’d come apart on my mouth…virgin tight, trembling, mine.

The memory alone nearly dropped me to my knees.

I’d been blind. So fucking blind.

Since she was brought to me, I’d seen her as a burden. A weak, sniveling toy forced on me by the council and her father. A beggar at my table when she was the goddamn feast.

I’d let Bianca…that viper…whisper poison in my ear, let her claws rake Abby’s spirit, torture her, while I turned away. I’d rejected her, humiliated her, locked her in the cold while I warmed another’s bed.

But now, I see her. I really see her.

Her long brown hair tangled from my fists. Her skin, moon-pale and glowing, flushed rose where I’d sucked bruises into her. Those eyes…the brightest brown, glittering with fury and something deeper. Fear. Pain.

She’s Mine and I’ll definitely fix this.

Her body is a meal prepared just for me…curves I’d ignored, hips I’d never touched, a pussy so sweet it haunted me now. She was exquisite. A goddess I’d treated like trash.

I’d walked away once.

I’d been a fool. A monster. And now even after marking me, she still hates me for it.

Good. Let her hate me. I’d earn every snarl, every slap, every tear.

I’d crawl on my belly through broken glass if she demanded it. I’d burn the palace to ash and rebuild it brick by brick with my bare hands, just to see her smile. I’d leash my wolf, chain my crown, and kneel at her feet like the dog I was. She wanted me on all fours? I’d drop and beg.

Fuck my pride.

The bond roared in my blood, begging me to get back to her. I could feel her through the wall…curled tight, shaking, the echo of her scream still ringing in my skull. “That’s not my name.” The words sliced deeper than her bite. What the hell did she mean?

But I shoved the question down. Later.

First, I need to fix what I've broken.

Everything would be hers. The crown. The kingdoms. My fucking soul. I’d sign it all over in blood if she asked. The servants who’d spat at her feet? Gone.

Bianca? I’d rip her head out myself and give it to my mate on a platter of gold. She’d never beg again. Never hide. Never flinch.

I’d make her queen in truth. Not just in name.

My hand slid to the mark again, thumb tracing the punctures. Another moan slipped free, and my hips rocked forward, grinding against nothing. I could still smell her on my skin, feel her thighs clamped around my ears. My wolf whined, desperate to lick her clean, to knot her, to fill her until she forgot every hurt I’d caused.

‘Soon,’ I promised him. We’ll have her. We’ll grovel. We’ll worship her.

A sharp tug snapped me from the haze…mindlink, urgent and cold from my beta Thomas.

“Your majesty, Lady Margaret requests an audience. She’s waiting in the throne room.”

My lip curled. My auntie. The architect of half of Abby’s torment. The one who’d sneered at my mate’s “weak blood,” who’d encouraged Bianca’s games, who’d whispered that rejecting Abby would strengthen the kingdom. Another spell-weaver. Another liar.

I cracked my neck, claws flexing. Time to set things straight. For good.

I strode down the hall, each step a vow. My auntie stood at the foot of the throne, regal as ever, silver hair coiled like a crown.

“Adrian,” she began, voice silk over steel. “We need to discuss that brat’s behavior—”

I was on her in a blink, hand around her throat, lifting her until her feet dangled. Gasps echoed through the hall. Thomas stepped forward, then froze…my glare pinning him to a spot.

“You will never speak her name again without respect,” I snarled, fangs bared. “You are to step down from all your duties. The kingdom now has a queen.”

Her eyes bulged, nails scraping my wrist. “You can’t do that, Adrian. I raised you! Everything I do… I do for you and this kingdom—”

“The kingdom is hers.” I roared, slamming her against the nearest wall, and she groaned in pain.

“You’re done. Stripped of your authority. If I smell you within a hundred miles of her, I’ll feed you to the crows piece by piece.”

She lay in shock, gasping, but I was already turning. “Thomas…spread the word. Every insult against the Luna is now treason. Every servant who raises a hand or denies her should be executed immediately unless she pardons them herself. The dungeons are hers to empty or fill. The treasury, the laws, the pack houses…all of it answers to her now.”

Thomas bowed, eyes wide. “Yes, your Majesty.”

I leaned in, voice dropping to a growl only he could hear. “And find Bianca. Chain her in silver. I want her screaming when my mate decides her fate.”

I turned to leave, but I didn’t make it past the hallway before Thomas’s voice stopped me at the foot of the stairs.

“Your Majesty… there’s someone here to see you.”

I exhaled, already tired. “Tell them to wait. I’m not—”

The guard beside him stepped aside, cutting me off.

And then I saw her.

My body went still. Every sound in the corridor faded to nothing as my gaze locked on the woman standing in the doorway.

But it wasn’t her face that caught my attention.

It was the child in her arms.

A boy…small, quiet, clutching her dress with wide gray eyes that looked far too familiar.

My eyes.