Chapter 58 A Challenge For The Throne
Vanessa
A commotion outside makes me shift, almost making my wonderful dream disappear.
Three days after Lucinda's departure and we still can't get enough of each other. Truly, after she left, the aftereffects of her presence here brought us closer than ever before, and I feel a fluttering in my chest.
The first rapid knock goes ignored, simply turning to my other side to block out the sound. But then, it becomes persistent and I realize hiding under my pillow isn't going to make the other party go away.
I look at the time on my bedside table and see that it's just past two in the morning.
What is so important I have to be woken up so early in the morning?
With a heavy sigh, I lift off the bed and open the door, coming face-to-face with a wide-eyed and sweaty Trish. Her green eyes are wide in alarm, her body relaxing slightly as if my acknowledging presence brings her some form of relief.
"Your Highness," she slips. She doesn't call me by my name, which only happens when she's anxious about something. That tells me something is very wrong right now.
Stepping forward, I grip her shoulders, shaking her a little to ground her back here. "What is it, Patricia?"
"His Highness," she starts, and a spike of fear shoots through me.
"Xander? What's wrong with him?" I ask quickly, my hands trembling.
Tears form in her eyes as she looks up at me. "He's been challenged for the throne, and he'll be fighting in front of everyone."
What?
"When is it?"
"At dawn."
What the hell?
"I'll see you later, Trish," I tell her, sidestepping her, but she grabs my hand before I can leave.
"Your Highness, what are you going to do?" Fuck if I even know myself, I think, but I only pat her hand and give her a small smile.
"Whatever it takes," I tell her instead. With that, march into Xander's private office.
He's seated on one of the couches, back leaned casually against it and sipping on his teeth-decaying sweet coffee like he's not about to go make a bloody mess of himself in a few hours, quite literally.
With quick steps, I stand in front of him with my hands on my hips, gaze almost scorching.
He doesn't look up before he says, "If you're here to try talking me out of the fight, it's not possible."
"What the fuck do you mean it's not possible? Some crazy guy from fuckwhere is here to challenge you for your rightful inheritance, and you're saying it's impossible?" I all but shout at him.
He leans forward to drop his coffee on the table. Sighing, he gets to his feet, his six-foot height now towering over me. "It's always been a part of tradition to accept any challenge to the throne, Vanessa."
"I don't understand...so you're just going to fight every person who challenges you for the throne? Even if more come after this one, you'll have to keep doing it?"
"There's nothing I can do to change that law," he says lowly.
"Throw them in the fucking dungeons or something," I say matter-of-factly.
A ghost of a smile graces his lips, but it isn't an amused one. "That'll only make me look...weak," he mutters, his eyes cast down like he's ashamed of that notion. I really look at him then. He doesn't look like the grumpy Alpha I know at all - his clothes are disheveled, even a tie is missing which is unusual, and his hair looks like he had a run a hand through it so many times.
Right now, he just looks like a typical twenty-eight year old man who has too many responsibilities dumped on his shoulders.
I step closer, closing the gap between us and gently cup his cheeks, raising his chin to stare into those dark pools that seem to caress my soul at every glance.
"You're not weak, Alexander. Ever," I whisper. "You're strong, and powerful and have absolutely nothing to prove to anyone. Others' opinions will never determine your worth, no matter what." He sucks in a sharp breath, and leans his head on my shoulders, his body sagging against me like he needs to hear those words, badly.
I reach up to stroke the back of his head, letting him take a deep inhale of my scent, which isn't so subtle like he thinks.
"But since it's tradition, you have my permission to go for it," I tell him. "But then, if you so much as dare to get yourself cut, or bleed, I'll get up there and finish you off myself. Do you understand?" I grind out, tightening my hold on him.
He chuckles and nuzzles my neck, drawing a little shiver from me. "I wouldn't dare, firecracker," he replies, dipping his head to kiss my lips softly and my body melts into his with a sigh.
He breaks the kiss and pecks my forehead quickly, holding me to him. We stay like that for what feels like forever, just seeking comfort in each other's arms until it's time.
Tension hangs thick in the air, deep and suffocating as the largest crowd I've ever seen in this pack gathers at the training grounds.
I pay them no mind as my eyes are fixed on a particular Alpha, stripped to the waist in nothing but a pair of black pants, same as his opponent.
I watch the ripple of Xander's body as he stretches, unknowingly flexing his abs. His tanned skin complimenting his slim but muscular build, tearing screams and gasps from restless shewolves.
I catch the eyes of some of them, giving them the stink eye when they dare to ogle my man. They turn their faces away immediately, a smug satisfaction filling me.
An older man who looks to be in his fifties comes out dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.
He glances at Xander and his opponent. A tall broad-shouldered man with long dark hair tied into a bun, scars marr his face, and the evil glint in his gray eyes makes a sick feeling of dread fill my stomach.
It's alright, he might be bigger, but Xander will take him down. I'm sure of it.
The referee-looking man says something but I can't concentrate as I watch both men get into position.
The opponent says something to Xander that makes him tense up, and as soon as they're given the signal, Xander lunges for him, hitting him in the jaw so hard I hear it crack. Good.
We're onto a good start. I can only hope it'll continue like this till the end.
But Fate has other plans as the first jab of the opponent's fist hooks Xander right in the ribs and he staggers back, dropping to his knees.
Another signal is given immediately and suddenly there's a sudden snapping of bones and both men are in full wolf forms, circling and snarling at each other.
The whole place goes very silent as we all wait with bated breaths when both wolves lunge and leap into the air, then crash to the ground. Neither moving...