3: Coronation

Ronnie's POV 

The invitation sat on my cracked coffee table like a venomous snake.

Cream and gold design with a scent of lilies that made my stomach turn.

It was the invitation to Elisha’s coronation as Alpha, as well as Elisha and Keisha’s big day.

“I’m not going, Jessie. I still have dignity,” I said, eyes glued to my laptop. “Or at least the broken pieces of it packed in a box somewhere.”

My fingers hovered over my keyboard, trying to salvage the code for my Alte Tech project. The lines blurred anyway. Anger has a way of messing with logic.

“It’s the Alpha’s son’s bonding ceremony with your sister; either way, you have to be there. If not for anything else, to show them that you don’t give a fuck about them anymore.” Jessie snapped, yanking the laptop off my lap.

She stood there, trying to cheer me up like I hadn’t just sabotaged my life, even when she warned me ahead.

“Honestly, I don’t care what they think. It’s their life, and their thoughts too.”

“You’re not going to tell me that, Ronnie. I mean, these people want you gone, literally. Are you really going to give them that?”

“I got rejected by my mate, also got insulted by a stranger who looks like he fell out of a sculptor’s dream, and you still think I have a chance to show up as strong? I’d rather sit here and work on reapplying to Alte Tech.”

“Forget the Hotel demigod,” Jessie waved me off. “Tonight, you’re going. You’ll wear the dress I bought, and you’ll walk in with a man who will make everyone’s head turn.”

“Jessie—no.”

“Jessie—yes. I already called him, Mark. Beta from North Creek. He’s Polite. Handsome. And he’ll look at you like you matter while Elisha watches.”

Before I could protest any further, she pushed me into the washroom.

Two hours later, I barely recognised myself.

The dress was midnight silk, clinging in ways I’d spent months hiding under hoodies. My hair fell down my back in soft waves. My eyes still felt tired, but in the mirror, they looked sharp, like Jesse had a plan to make me destroy Elisha’s engagement. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t even give myself a chance.

“See?” Jessie whispered behind me. “Trash doesn’t shine like that.”

The Grand Hall glowed with obscene luxury. Crystal chandeliers. Champagne. Mated pheromones thick enough to choke on.

Mark was… nice.

That was the problem.

He held my hand, smiled at the right moments, and told me I looked lovely. But every time I saw Elisha across the room, his arm tight around Keisha, something sharp twisted in my chest.

I didn’t want him back.

Never again.

But he looked untouched, like he hadn’t shattered someone just to feel powerful.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked gently.

“I’m fine,” I lied, watching Keisha laugh and tilt her head so everyone could see the diamond around her neck. My blood simmered.

When Elisha leaned down to whisper in her ear, the ache hit harder. The bond was gone, but the memory of it still hurt.

“I need air,” I said, pulling my hand away.

“What? Ronnie, we just got here.” Mark caught my wrist, not rough, just firm. “Jessie said...”

“I don’t care what Jessie said,” I snapped. “I can’t be here.”

His grip tightened slightly. Protective. Patronizing. “Just breathe. Let’s get a drink...”

“Get your filthy hands off her.”

The voice wasn’t loud.

It didn’t need to be.

It rolled through the room like thunder beneath the floorboards. Every wolf froze. Conversations died mid-breath.

Mark dropped my wrist.

My heart slammed.

I knew that voice.

I turned.

He had on a Charcoal suit. Silk tie.

He looked like power wrapped in skin.

“You,” I breathed.

The man from the hotel stood there, his golden eyes making me want to trip over. He looked handsome and more dangerous than I remembered. His gaze locked on me, slow and assessing.

“You’re still a mess,” he said quietly. His eyes dipped to my dress. “But at least you cleaned up.”

“Your majesty?” Mark stammered.

The stranger didn’t look at him.

Mark staggered back, colour draining from his face.

Whispers spread through the hall.

“Oh my goodness, this can’t be!”

“Look at his eyes.”

The Elders rushed forward, panic written all over them.

They knelt.

“Long live Your Majesty!” the Head Elder howled.

The sound of bodies hitting marble echoed through the hall. Elisha dropped beside Keisha, shock etched across his face.

Everyone bowed.

Except me.

I stared at the man in front of me as the truth slammed into place.

“Your Majesty?” I whispered.

He stepped closer. That thick sandalwood scent wrapped around me. His thumb tilted my chin up.

His eyes burned into mine.

My heart stopped.

He was the Lycan King.

And I had spent a week calling him an asshole.