Crown Before the Blood

Delilah chose her moment carefully.

Finn was alone in his chamber when she arrived, standing near the balcony doors, the weight of impending war heavy on his shoulders. He turned as she entered, surprise flickering across his face before softening into something familiar.

“You should have sent the guards to inform me?” he asked.

“I didn’t,” Delilah replied calmly. “I came myself.”

She moved closer, her expression unreadable. “I’ve been patient enough, Finn,” she said. “Through the whispers about me. Through the chaos we had survived.  And now, through the war you’re preparing to fight.”

Finn frowned slightly. “And?”

“And I will not stand beside you as nothing,” Delilah continued. “Not after everything I’ve endured for this pack.”

Finn exhaled slowly. “Delilah, this is not the time.”

“When will it be?” she asked quietly. “After the war? After blood is spilled? After victory—or defeat?”

She held his gaze. “I want to be crowned Luna.”

The words hung between them.

Finn stiffened. “After the war,” he said firmly. “That is when it should happen.”

Delilah studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “I see,” she said softly.

She neither argued nor pleaded. She simply turned and walked away.

But when days passed, Delilah became distant. Polite—but cold.

She no longer sought Finn’s company, no longer offered comfort or warmth. When he reached for her, she stepped aside. When he summoned her, she claimed fatigue.

The affection between them strained.

“Delilah,” Finn snapped one night. “This is childish.”

She met his gaze coolly. “Is it?” Silence followed.

Finn found himself restless, easily irritated and off-balance.

War loomed. Knox loomed. And Delilah—always at his side—was suddenly just out of reach.

Three nights later, Finn summoned the council. Urgently.

The chamber filled once more, elders exchanging wary glances as Finn took his seat.

“I have made a decision,” he announced. “One that concerns the stability of this pack.”

Elder Rowan leaned forward, attentive.

“I will crown Delilah my chosen mate as Luna,” Finn said. “Tomorrow.” The room erupted.

“Before the war?”

“This is reckless, Alpha.”

“After the conflict would be wiser—”

Elder Rowan rose. “My Alpha,” he said smoothly, “this is a wise decision. A united front strengthens morale. The pack needs certainty.” Several elders nodded.

Others frowned. “This is hasty,” one argued. “Tradition—”

“Tradition does not win wars,” Rowan cut in sharply. “Strength does.”

Finn’s jaw set. Elder Rowan had always trusted and supported his decisions. “The decision is final,” he said. “Prepare the things for rituals.”

The council bowed—some in agreement, others in uneasy silence.

By nightfall, the news spread through the pack like wildfire. Delilah would be Luna.

In her chamber, Delilah listened as servants talked about it.

That night, she stood before the mirror, adjusting a silver pin at her throat. A slow smile curved her lips.

Right on time, she thought. Finn had given her exactly what she wanted.

A crown. Before the war… Before his fall.

Delon arrived later that evening.

He found Delilah in the private corridor near the moonlit balcony, her gown shimmering softly in the night, her posture calm and composed like a queen already crowned.

His smile was polite. His eyes were not.

“My love” he greeted her smoothly, voice low.

Delilah turned, her face calm and unreadable.

“Delon,” she replied.

He stepped closer, his gaze sharp.

“You made a bold decision days ago," he said casually. “A decision you didn’t discuss with me.”

Delilah’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I thought I was doing it for our benefit,” she said softly. “For the pack. For you. For me.”

Delon’s lips curved. “And yet you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Delilah replied. “Afterall, you were busy with Finn.”

Delon’s smile stayed in place, but the anger underneath it grew. He leaned in, voice smooth as silk. “Delilah, tomorrow’s ceremony should be postponed.”

Her gaze lifted, cool and calculating. “Why?” she asked.

Delon’s eyes sharpened. “Because it’s dangerous.”

Delilah’s smile was gentle—almost sweet. “It’s not dangerous,” she said softly. “It’s necessary now that his death is certain.”

Delon moved closer, his tone lowering into a coaxing whisper. “You don’t understand. If you’re crowned Luna now, you become more visible. An easy target for those scheming elders. Finn is already unstable. War is coming. We should wait.”

Delilah’s expression didn’t change. She stepped closer until they were inches apart. Her voice was soft, almost intimate.

“But Delon,” she whispered, “I’ve waited years for him to give me what I deserve.”

Delon’s eyes flickered.

She continued, “Besides, you promised me the crown when you became Alpha. You promised me everything. Isn't it better now, if I become Luna and make it much more easier for you to ascend the throne.?”

His expression tightened.

Delilah’s lips curved, her voice turning icy.

“And if you don’t let me have my way now,” she said, “I will make sure everyone knows what you are.”

Delon’s breath caught.

Her words were a knife. Not because of what she said—but because of what she implied.

She was threatening him with the truth. With exposure.

Delon’s face remained calm. But inside, fury burned. He didn’t say anything, instead he reached for her, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately—hard, possessive, claiming.

Delilah responded perfectly—sweetly, like a woman who had won.

When he finally pulled away, she smiled. “I am worried,” she whispered.

Delon’s lips curved. “Don’t be,” he said, voice low. “Everything will happen the way we planned.”

He left her there with a kiss on her forehead, his face smiling. But the moment the door shut behind him, his smile faded.

His eyes darkened. He was furious.

He never wanted her crowned Luna. Not now, or in the future. But especially, not before Finn’s death.

It would make her harder to discard. It would make her more powerful and complicate everything.

He needed a new plan. And he needed it fast.

Delon walked straight to Elder Rowan’s house. The night was cold, and the air seemed to hum with tension.

Rowan greeted him warmly, as if he had been expecting him. “Beta Delon,” Rowan said, smiling. “What brings you here so late?”

Delon bowed slightly, his expression polite. “I need your advice,” he said.

Rowan’s eyes glinted. “Speak.”

Delon explained Delilah’s refusal to postpone the crowning ceremony.

Rowan listened, then chuckled softly.

“She wants to be crowned Luna before the war,” Rowan murmured. “Let her be.”

Delon’s gaze narrowed. “This was not part of the plan.”

Rowan leaned back, his smile widening.

“Of course it was,” he said. “You simply didn’t see it.”

Delon frowned. “Explain.”

Rowan’s voice was calm, confident. “I allowed it,” he said. “So no one would suspect anything.”

Delon blinked.

Rowan continued, “Once Finn dies, Delilah will be killed according to our plan.”

Delon stared at him.

Rowan’s daughter appeared at the doorway, her presence silent and poised. “Greetings, Beta” 

Delon’s anger eased, replaced by a slow, cold satisfaction.” My princess! Pardon my anger”

“I perfectly understand you, Beta” She replied sweetly and walked closer to him.

Thinking about Rowan’s brilliant plan, Delon’s lips curved into a smile.

“Thank you,” Delon said softly. “Your wisdom is unmatched.”

“It's my pleasure, Beta,” Rowan said.

“I must return to the Alpha’s estate now. The fool is so engrossed with the coming war that he doesn't pay attention to those around him anymore. He needs me by his side more than ever “ He winks at Rowan’s daughter who smiles shyly. He pecked her cheek and left at once. 

The moment he left, she scoffed loudly. “Dad, I can't wait to take him off the track. A man like Delon can never be faithful to his mate!”

“Relax, Selena! I know what I am doing” Rowan replied with a grin.