Chapter 34

Atwood

I wake up before Ruby. The sun hasn’t even risen yet and the castle grounds are blanketed in the soft, dim light of early dawn, but I have work to do. Thanks to Ruby’s sudden healing abilities, the deft work of my medics, and my own healing abilities, the pain from my wounds no longer plagues me.

As I quietly move my sleeping mate off of me and climb out of bed, I take a moment to look down at her. She looks pained in her sleep as though she is having nightmares, but I don’t want to wake her. Ruby is strong. A few nightmares won’t hurt her.

I make my side of the bed, then pull on my clothes in the dim morning light and peel the bandages off of my face. I can see a faint scar across my face in the mirror, but nothing more. Thankfully my vision wasn’t harmed by the Bear’s attack.

I’m about to leave when I look over my shoulder one last time at Ruby, who has already sprawled herself across the bed and is sleeping on her belly with her mouth open. It’s funny, in a cute way. Before I leave, I decide to leave a note for her in case she is confused or upset when she wakes up.

The castle is quiet as I make my way to my study. There are only a few servants milling about, as well as a guard here and there. I’m thankful that my mother seems to still be asleep, which means that I will at least have a little bit of time to work… although, I think to myself as I enter my study and lock the door behind me so no one can enter, it will be extremely difficult to get any work done without my beta here at my side.

Just thinking about Kayne creates a pang in my heart. He was more than my beta; he was like a brother to me. Even when I assign myself a new beta, I know that no one will ever come even remotely close to filling the void that is left in his wake.

However, I know that he wouldn’t want me to hesitate. He would want me to prepare for the Bears’ next attack and protect my kingdom.

My first order of business is to write down detailed instructions for Kayne’s funeral. I won’t be able to plan it myself, so I write down exactly what I want so that my mother can take care of it. Despite our strained relationship, I know that the Queen will ensure that Kayne will have a proper funeral. Still, I make sure to stress the fact that only the pack will attend his funeral, and that the pyre be built from the wood of the large oak tree that stands behind the castle.

I don’t care that cutting down the oak will leave an eyesore on my castle grounds. Many nights throughout my childhood were spent with Kayne beneath that tree, looking at the stars as we discussed our dreams and plans for the kingdom when we would grow up. We even cut one of the branches and carved our own wooden toy swords out of it. The swords broke quickly due to our reckless play fights, but the memories stayed.

I want his pyre to be made of the same wood, and I won’t have it any other way.

When I’m finished writing the instructions for my mother, I move on to my next task, which is to write and sign a decree that will enforce a strict curfew on the kingdom. No one may leave their homes after six o’clock in the evening, which especially means that students will be required to go straight home after school. If Ruby wasn’t integrating so well into the Lycan school, I would want to pull her out and have Alice homeschool her -- but I know that that would break her heart, so I can’t bring myself to do it.

Besides, her wolf is emerging. She’ll be able to protect herself soon, although I hope she never has to.

A knock sounds at my door, and I lift my head to realize that two hours have passed and that the sun has risen. With a tired sigh, I stand and go to open the door. It’s Noah, and the rest of my pack. I let them in so that we can start discussing our next move.

“I fear we’ll have to enact a military draft,” I say without so much as greeting my pack, turning back toward my desk and sitting back down. “I want every able-bodied man ready to fight if need be. If they’re a hybrid without a wolf, give them a weapon and train them to use it.”

My pack solemnly takes my orders. We spend the rest of the morning working on our plans, but by noon, I find myself becoming aware of something being seriously wrong.

“Now,” I say as I pace back and forth, “as for the foreign affairs… I…”

My voice falters as Noah’s pen scratching on his paper distracts me. He’s taking notes. Did I tell him to take notes? For some reason, I can’t remember.

“I… Uh…” I say, realizing now that I can’t even remember what I was just talking about. Noah’s writing becomes all too loud to me. It’s distracting, and it’s making me angry. He doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Noah, will you stop that godforsaken writing?!” I shout, storming across the room and ripping the notebook from his hands, throwing it to the ground. He looks up at me with wide eyes and a confused expression across his face. The rest of the pack looks on silently, just as confused.

“M-My Lord, you asked me to take notes,” he says timidly.

Did I? I strain to recall asking him, but it’s foggy. It’s as though something is blocking my memory. I pass my hand over my face wearily and bend to pick the notebook and pen back up, handing them back to him. He takes them with shaking hands.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I say quietly, sinking back down into my desk chair. “I think we all need a break. We’ll reconvene after lunch.”

My pack silently leaves the room. Noah looks over his shoulder one last time with an expression of worry drawn across his face. When he shuts the door behind him, I spontaneously grab a glass paperweight from my desk and throw it at the wall, watching numbly as it shatters into a million pieces.

I know what I have to do. I pick up the phone and dial Doctor Yang. He tells me to come to his office immediately.

“This is a bad sign, Atwood,” Doctor Yang says as he steps back into the office with my test results in his hand. My head is reeling from the scan, which it usually does, but this time it feels worse. Could it just be from my injuries, or something else?

“Has she not marked you yet?”

I shake my head. “No. Her wolf hasn’t emerged yet.”

The usually-calm old doctor curses loudly and slams his fist down on the desk, causing me to jump a bit out of pure surprise.

“When is her birthday?” he asks.

“December 12th. A month from now.”

“God dammit, Atwood,” he says. He digs into his desk to pull out my last test results, then places the scans next to each other so I can compare. The shadow on my brain is significantly larger this time.

“You don’t have that long. It’ll be two weeks at the most before your symptoms get to the point where you won’t even be able to run your kingdom anymore. One week more than that, and you’ll be institutionalized. She has to mark you, and soon, otherwise you’ll be entirely unfit for the throne.”

He pauses, chewing his lip. I can tell that he’s choosing his next words carefully.

“If she doesn’t mark you in time, you’ll turn into a Rogue.”