Traded Off To The Beast

(Liora's POV)

I knocked twice before entering my husband’s chamber.

“Your Majesty?”

There was no answer.

I glanced at the seamstress waiting a few steps behind me. She held a large garment bag against her chest, her expression carefully neutral, though I could tell she was beginning to lose patience.

“I'll speak to him,” I assured her. “Please wait here.”

She dipped her head.

I pushed the door open.

“Your Majesty, the seamstress is here. She needs you to—”

The words died in my throat.

My husband was standing beside his bed, shirtless, with his hands resting on the waist of a woman whose lips were firmly pressed against his.

For a moment, I couldn't move.

Then the woman opened her eyes.

Our gazes met over my husband's shoulder, and she smiled.

A small, satisfied smile.

She's just not any woman. Not one of his many concubines. She's his second wife, the wife brought in to give him what I haven't been able to.

Worse, she used to be my best friend.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted, making no effort to move away from him.

I lowered my eyes. “Forgive me. I didn't realise you were occupied.”

My husband, Alistair, didn't look remotely embarrassed. He merely turned his head towards me, his expression hardening at the interruption.

“Can’t you knock?”

“I did.”

“Then perhaps you should learn to wait for an invitation before barging into my chambers.”

My fingers tightened around the fabric of my dress.

“I'm sorry. The seamstress is waiting. I only came to remind you about the fitting.”

“What fitting?”

“Our anniversary clothes.” I swallowed. “The fifth anniversary ceremony is in two days.”

Alistair looked at me as though I'd just reminded him of something utterly insignificant.

“And?”

I hesitated.

“And she needs to finish the alterations before the ceremony.”

He gave a short, humourless laugh.

“Tell me, Liora. What exactly are we celebrating?”

I looked up.

His gaze travelled over my face before settling on my stomach.

“Five years of marriage without an heir? Is that what you want the kingdom to gather and celebrate? Your barrenness?”

My cheeks burned.

Beside him, his wife lowered her eyes, concealing a smile.

“Alistair,” she murmured, placing a hand on his chest. “Perhaps you shouldn't speak to her that way.”

For one foolish second, I thought she was defending me.

Then she turned towards me.

“After all, Liora has had a difficult time. We should be considerate of her feelings.” Her voice was sweet, her expression sympathetic, but I knew better. “Though I suppose it's really unreasonable to be holding a ceremony, every year, for a fruitless marriage.”

Alistair chuckled. “You're right, darling.”

He bent and kissed her.

A slow kiss, delivered right in front of me.

When he pulled away, she looked pleased with herself.

I stood there, feeling as though I'd become an unwanted piece of furniture in my own husband's bedroom.

“Is there anything else?” Alistair asked.

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Then leave. I have more important things to attend to than fitting clothes for a ceremony I have no interest in.”

I bowed my head and turned away.

“Your Majesty,” she called after me.

I stopped.

“Do remind the seamstress not to make the waist too tight on your dress. We wouldn't want you looking uncomfortable on such an important occasion.”

Her hand settled over her stomach.

It was an innocent-looking gesture, but still, it felt like a knife.

“Of course,” I replied.

I closed the door behind me.

The seamstress immediately straightened.

“Your Majesty? Will the King be joining us?”

I forced a smile.

“His Majesty is occupied. You'll have to return later.”

“Again?”

The woman seemed to catch herself almost immediately.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I didn't mean to—”

“It's alright. I understand.”

She had been summoned to the palace twenty–five times already. Each time, the King had found a reason to postpone the fitting. I couldn't blame her for being frustrated.

I instructed one of the maids to arrange another appointment and watched the seamstress leave.

Only when she was out of sight did I allow my smile to disappear.

Five years.

Five years of marriage, and my husband couldn't spare an hour to have his anniversary clothes fitted.

Perhaps I shouldn't have expected anything different.

I had once been proud to become Alistair Rothwell's wife. I came from one of the most respected Omega bloodlines in the werewolf clan, a lineage renowned for its fertility and pure blood. My parents had raised me to believe that I would make a good wife and, someday, a good mother.

I had believed it too.

But five years had passed, and my womb remained empty.

Alistair had married me because of my bloodline. He wanted a pure-blood heir, someone who would inherit the strength of his Alpha blood and secure the future of his dynasty.

I had wanted a family.

I had wanted to love my husband, bear his children, and build a home with him. Instead, I had given him five years of disappointment.

And six months ago, he had taken my former best friend as his second wife.

Seraphina.

There had been a time when I couldn't imagine my life without her. We had grown up together, shared secrets, laughed over silly things, and promised to remain friends no matter what life brought.

Then she became Alistair's second wife.

I still remembered how she'd held my hands and told me she would never take my place. She'd said she only wanted to help the King secure an heir, and that nothing between us would change.

I had wanted to believe her.

Perhaps that was my first mistake.

Now, she occupied the chambers that should have belonged to me, wore the jewels Alistair gifted her instead of me, and received the affection I had spent five years hoping to earn.

They had been trying for a child almost from the moment they married.

Six months.

It had taken her only six months to become the woman my husband wanted beside him.

I pressed a hand against my stomach.

What sin had I committed against the Moon Goddess?

Why had she given me the purest blood and blessed me with an ancestry of fertile Omegas, only to make me incapable of the one thing women like me were expected to do?

I had prayed. I had endured examinations, treatments, and countless humiliating questions. I had listened to physicians assure me that there was nothing obviously wrong, only to return to a palace where every passing month felt like another personal failure.

Sometimes, I wondered if the Goddess was punishing me for something I couldn't remember doing.

Perhaps I had been ungrateful, or I had offended her in some other way.

Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with me.

I lowered my hand.

It was a miserable thought, but I couldn't seem to stop thinking it.

In the kingdom of Solmora, a Queen was expected to provide an heir within the first year of marriage. My womb had failed to do so, and I had long since learned that my title offered little protection from the consequences.

The servants were polite, but I knew what some of them whispered when they thought I couldn't hear. The council had stopped seeking my opinion on matters concerning the royal household. Even the nobles who once praised my bloodline now regarded me with barely concealed pity.

I was still Queen of Solmora.

But I was no longer treated like one.

“Your Majesty.”

I turned.

A man in dark royal attire was approaching from the opposite end of the corridor. I recognised him immediately as the King's Beta, one of Alistair's closest advisers and the man responsible for overseeing much of the kingdom's affairs in his absence.

He looked unusually troubled.

“Good afternoon,” I greeted.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed. “Is the King in his chambers?”

I glanced towards the closed doors behind me.

“He is occupied. I would advise you to return later.”

“Unfortunately, that won't be possible.”

His expression made me pause.

“Is something wrong?”

“I need to speak with His Majesty immediately.”

“Can't it wait until he's finished?”

The Beta hesitated.

Then he lowered his voice.

“We have a serious problem with Verkhane, Your Majesty. If His Majesty doesn't act quickly, we may find ourselves on the wrong side of their King.”

I stared at him.

Verkhane.

The kingdom with a Beast King.