Chapter 52: A Mate’s Mercy

The moonlight filtered through the tall arched windows of the royal chambers, washing everything in an eerie silver glow. Serena stood at the edge of the room, the ancient scroll gripped tightly in her trembling hands. The words were etched in a dialect older than time, but she had studied it long enough now to understand every damning line.

Bloodline Anchor. Fated to bind or destroy. Her.

Theron stood across from her, his jaw set tight, eyes blazing not with rage, but something far more dangerous—hurt.

“You read it,” he said, voice low, controlled.

Serena’s mouth felt dry. “Yes. Just now.”

“And?”

“I was right. I was born not just to be your mate…” She swallowed, the weight of truth almost too heavy. “But to be the tipping scale between kingdoms. Between you and Elias.”

Theron took a step forward, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “You think I didn’t suspect something? My wolf—he’s always known there was more. Every time you touched me, it felt like lightning and war. But I told myself it was because we were fated. Because I loved you.”

Her voice broke. “You still do?”

“I want to.” His words cracked like ice. “But how can I trust someone who kept this from me?”

“I didn’t want to,” Serena said quickly, heart racing. “I just didn’t know how. Elias—he told me before the coronation. That my existence could destroy everything.”

“Elias,” Theron spat the name. “Of course.”

“I didn’t believe him!” she protested. “Not at first. But when I saw the scroll tonight—” She raised it slightly. “I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

Silence settled between them. Theron’s broad shoulders seemed to sink as he exhaled a shuddering breath.

“So, what now?” he asked. “Do you walk away to fulfill some fate neither of us chose?”

“No.” She crossed the room in three quick steps. “I’m not leaving you. I want to fight for us. For whatever we have left.”

He stared at her, eyes searching, stormy. Then, slowly, he cupped her face in his large hands. “You’re not just some prophecy, Serena. You’re mine.”

Her eyes welled with tears. “Then don’t push me away.”

“I won’t.” His forehead rested against hers. “But if we’re going to survive this, you need to be honest with me. Always.”

“I will.” She pressed a kiss to his lips—soft, tentative. A promise.

A sharp knock on the door shattered the fragile peace.

“Your Majesty!” a guard shouted from outside. “Urgent—Alpha Elias has breached the palace gates. He demands to speak with Lady Serena. Alone.”

Theron stiffened. Serena’s stomach dropped.

He pulled back slightly, locking eyes with her. “What does he want?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

But in her heart, she feared she did. Elias had never let go. And he wasn’t just coming for answers. He was coming for her.

“I should go,” she said.

Theron didn’t argue. “I won’t stop you. But remember who stayed, Serena. Who bled for you. Who let you choose.”

Her chest ached. “I know.”

She reached for his hand, holding it for a beat longer, then turned and left.

The corridor was empty, the marble floors cool beneath her hurried steps. She passed two guards who bowed deeply but said nothing as she made her way to the outer garden—where she felt Elias’s presence like a storm on the horizon.

He stood beneath the moonlight, tall, regal, and heartbreakingly familiar. His silver hair gleamed, and his expression—equal parts torment and hope—made her breath catch.

“Serena,” he said.

She stopped a few paces away. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I had to. I know the truth now. About the scroll. About what you are.”

“And you think that changes anything?”

“It changes everything,” Elias said, voice fierce. “You belong with me.”

She flinched. “Don’t say that.”

“You know it’s true,” he pressed. “We were in love long before fate tangled us in its web. You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten what we had.”

She took a shaky breath. “I haven’t forgotten. But things have changed.”

“Have they?” Elias stepped forward. “Or are you just afraid to choose?”

She stared at him, torn between the ghosts of a past love and the fire of the present. Between the king who held her heart now and the alpha who still had pieces of her soul.

And she realized something painful: she couldn’t run from fate. But she could fight for the version of it she wanted.

The wind picked up around them, whispering secrets neither of them were ready to hear.

“I’ll speak with you,” she said finally. “But not as someone who belongs to you or Theron. As myself.”

Elias gave a slow nod. “Then speak freely. I’ll listen.”

And as they sat beneath the moonlit tree where everything had once begun, Serena knew that nothing would ever be the same again.