Accueil / Werewolf / The Alpha King is a Woman / Chapitre 141 - Chapitre 150

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154

Justice Has a New Face

Four months later.The palace clearing looks exactly the way I remember it.That is what makes sitting here so satisfying.The same wide stretch of packed earth, beaten flat by generations of boots. The same stone platform, raised above the rest. The same rows of seats surrounding the clearing, filled with the faces of the pack.And the same throne where my father used to sit while women were dragged before him to be punished for disobedience.Only now, I am the one sitting on it.My hand rests over the gentle curve of my stomach as I watch the man kneeling in front of me, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped in a posture of defeat.Six months.That is how far along I am now.The baby moves beneath my palm, a small, sudden flutter, a tiny reminder that my life has changed in more ways than I ever imagined. A secret, shared joy in the middle of all this noise and judgment.I smile internally. "You're quite active today."Kei glances at my stomach from where he sits beside me on a slig

Women Will Rise

His eyes slowly rise to mine, haunted and defeated."Watch."He says nothing, his jaw working.I gesture toward the man being punished, his cries growing weaker. "This is what happens when men forget their place."His jaw tightens, a muscle twitching in his cheek.I smile, but there is nothing warm in it. "Does that sound familiar?"He looks away, his gaze dropping to his hands."Don't." My voice hardens, the warmth gone. "You made me watch this."His eyes return to mine, a flicker of the old fire in them, quickly extinguished."You sat right here and told me this was the way of the world." I point toward the clearing, at the scene playing out. "You told me women needed punishment because we were too emotional. Too stubborn. Too difficult." I pause, letting the words hang in the air. "Now you're going to sit here and learn."My father swallows, his throat moving convulsively.The punishment continues, each thud of the wood a steady beat of the new order I've established. The crowd is

Men Needed This Lesson More

Two months later, the palace has learned a new word.Accountability.I like the way it tastes on my tongue. I like the way it makes stubborn men sweat, the way it makes their polished armor feel a size too tight.The class used to have another name.The Lunar Virtue Conclave. A place where young women were taught to lower their eyes, soften their voices, and obey their mates — to accept whatever life gave them without complaint, and to make themselves smaller so the men around them could feel bigger.I remember sitting through those lessons, the air thick with cloying perfume and unspoken resentment. I remember Matron Elswyth's cane tapping a relentless rhythm against the marble floor while she explained that silence was a woman's greatest virtue, that ambition was a sin, that a woman's highest calling was to be a pleasing, unobtrusive shadow to her mate.Now the class has a new name.The Lunar Conduct Assembly.And the students are men.I stand outside the heavy oak doors for a mome

A King in Labor

The class ends almost an hour later. I remain seated as the men begin filing out stiffly, their faces a mix of irritation, thoughtful contemplation, and outright embarrassment. A few of them won't meet my eyes as they pass.The young warrior, the one who asked about children, stops beside my chair, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Your Majesty?"I look up. "Yes?"He rubs the back of his neck nervously. "I just... I wanted to thank you.""For what?"He glances toward the door, where the other men are disappearing down the hall. "My mate and I, we argued all the time. About everything.""And?"He lets out a short, humorless laugh. "I used to think winning arguments was my responsibility. My right, as her mate."I raise an eyebrow. "What changed?"He smiles, a little awkwardly. "I listened to her. Actually listened. Not just waiting for my turn to talk.""And?"He shrugs. "Turns out she's usually right."I can't help but laugh. "Usually?"He grins, his eyes lighting up. "Almost al

A Son, Not a Daughter

For a moment, neither of us speaks. His face is pale, his eyes wide with a terror I have never seen in him before. Not for himself. Not for the kingdom he lost to me. But for me."Father?""Don't argue," His voice comes out rough, strained.He lifts me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I stare at him, completely bewildered. "Put me down.""No.""I can walk.""You can barely stand." His tone is firm, but there is no cruelty in it. No command meant to break me. Just raw, desperate concern.He starts carrying me toward the exit, his long strides eating up the distance. Turning to the guards, he barks, "Call the hospital. Tell them to prepare for the King. Now."The guards hurry ahead, their boots pounding on the stone floor. I stare at my father's face, at the lines of worry etched around his eyes, at the set of his jaw. My mother was right. Maybe he really is changing.For months she had been relentless, her voice a constant refrain in my ear. "The cell changed him, Ravelle

Not My Father's Legacy

I wake up thinking about the little boy sleeping in the next room.My son.The word still feels foreign on my tongue even after two years. Sometimes I'll watch him sleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and I'll trace the shape of his nose, the stubborn set of his jaw, and I'll wonder how I managed to give birth to a tiny version of Kei. A perfect, miniature copy of the man I love.Fuck, I wanted a girl.Not because I have anything against boys. I don't. It's not that simple.I just wanted a daughter. A girl who could grow up knowing she never had to shrink herself, never had to make herself smaller because she was born female. A girl who could sit on this throne one day and never hear a whisper that she wasn't strong enough, smart enough, or worthy enough. A girl who could continue what I started, who could carry this torch forward without the scars I carry.Instead, the Moon Goddess gave me a son.And sometimes, when I look at him, a cold fear snakes through me. I w

Mark Me

A year ago, Kei mother met her true mate.His name is Alden.He had already lost his first chance mate years ago during childbirth. She died bringing their son into the world. He never remarried. Not for five years. Not ten. Not twenty or thirty. In a world where men were once encouraged to replace a dead mate quickly, to secure the line and the legacy, Alden chose to stay alone. He made a promise to himself that he would remain alone for thirty years to honor the woman he lost.His son is almost Kei's age now.That alone still amazes me.He raised his son himself. He worked. He cared for his family. And when he finally found his true mate in Kei's mother, he didn't demand anything from her. He didn't push. He simply waited.Kei's mother hasn't accepted him yet She told me once, her voice quiet and firm, "I know he seems like a good man, Ravelle. But knowing a man is good and allowing him into your life are two different things."I didn't argue. She deserves all the time she needs.A

Two Hearts, One Soul

A raw, vulnerable look flashes across his face, gone in an instant, replaced by a fierce, overwhelming love that steals the air from my lungs.He doesn't ask again nor hesitate as he lowers his head back to my shoulder, his lips brushing my skin one last time before he bites.It's not a pain. Not in the way I've always imagined. It's a sharp, searing heat, a flash of pure pleasure that rips through me like a lightning strike. A gasp tears from my throat, my back arching off the bed as a wave of my power surges through the new connection. It's a flood, every emotion I've ever held back—the rage, the fear, the love, the joy—all of it rushing into him in a single, blinding moment.I feel his shock, his awe, as the wave hits him. His whole body goes rigid, a choked sound escaping his lips. He pulls back, his eyes wide, his breath coming in ragged gasps."I can feel it," he whispers, his voice full of wonder. "Gods, Ravelle, I can feel everything."His hands are braced on either side of my

A Lesson I Never Taught Him

Six years Later.Six years since Kei carried me into our bedroom and laid me on the bed, our bodies and souls finally bound as one. Six years since our lives finally became peaceful. And somehow, in that quiet, my son has grown into an eight-year-old who still believes the word 'no' is simply just a challenge."Knox. Give it back.""No.""Knox, I'm not asking.""I want it.""That isn't yours.""It is now."I press my thumb and forefinger to the bridge of my nose. A dull ache blooms behind my eyes—the same one I get every time he says something like that.Sometimes I wonder if we've spoiled him rotten. The answer is probably a resounding yes. Kei says it's my fault. I say it's his. And Knox blames both of us whenever we deny him a new toy or another sweet before dinner. The worst part is, I can't even distract myself with another baby because there hasn't been one.Not since Knox.At first, we didn't worry. We were young, newly bonded, and lost in each other. We spent the first year

The King He Wanted to Create

My eyes burn. I swipe at a tear, but another slips right behind it. Then I remember how Knox has been different lately. More impatient. More demanding. More aggressive.It started around the time he began spending more time in my mother's quarters. I never thought much of it — he loves his grandmother, and she spoils him rotten. I told myself it was just a phase.Now I know it's something else. Something much worse. Because spending time in my mother's quarters means spending time with my father.Lucian. Fuck.I'm about to step out from behind the pillar when another figure appears at the end of the corridor. My father. Lucian. He walks toward Knox, his steps unhurried.My heart drops into my stomach.Knox is still sobbing on the floor when Lucian reaches him. He doesn't kneel or offer comfort but he grabs Knox by the arm and yanks him to his feet."What are you crying for?"Knox sniffs, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "She pushed me."Lucian's gaze flicks toward Mira, who

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