Chapter 107 The crown I Earned

Chapter 107 The crown I Earned
Liora's POV

The cottage was quiet tonight. I sat near the small fireplace, fingers wrapped loosely around a glass of wine I’d barely touched. The flames moved against the stone walls, throwing long shadows across the room. Outside, the pack carried on as it always did — patrol rotations shifting, wolves drifting back from the forest, voices threading through the dark. Life continued.

But tonight felt different. Tonight, the board had shifted, and for the first time in years, I could see the whole path ahead of me, clear as a lit corridor.

My servant, Mira, stood at the wooden table arranging a small tray of herbs, her hands moving with the careful precision.

“Word is spreading through the pack,” she said, without looking up. “About the trial.”

I let my lips curve faintly. “I’m sure it is.”

She glanced over then — just briefly. “They say she rejected him.”

“Yes.” The word tasted sweet enough that I let myself savor it before going on. I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Sable always did have a flair for drama.”

Her eyes lingered on me a moment too long. “You seem… pleased.”

“Should I be mourning?”

“No.” Her voice was careful. “But most wolves would feel something, watching their Alpha lose his mate.”

“Sable was never meant to be Luna.” I said.

I rose and crossed to the window, gazing out over the dark treeline. “Sable ran. She abandoned the pack when things became difficult.” My fingers traced the window frame, unhurried. “And who stepped forward when she left?”

Mira didn’t answer. She didn’t have to — we both knew this part of the story belonged entirely to me, and I intended to tell it.

“I did.”

The truth of it settled warm in my chest. While Sable had chased freedom in the human world, I had stayed. I’d trained harder, sat through every council meeting, helped stitch the pack back together after Sable’s disappearance had torn a hole through it.

“And Kier needed someone.” My voice softened, almost reverent, the way it does when you’re describing the moment you decided your own myth. The Alpha had been different after Sable left — quieter, harder, his focus turning outward toward something bigger. Ironclad Industries. That empire had grown because I’d been there to hold the pieces together while he built it. I’d attended every meeting. Stayed through every late night. Sat across from him at long tables while human investors debated strategy without ever guessing what or who, they were really negotiating with.

“I helped build that company,” I murmured.

Mira nodded. “You did.” A small thing, but true, and I heard the truth in it more than the agreement.

“And I stayed loyal.”

The fire crackled behind me.

“Sable walked away from everything,” I said. “And I stayed and became everything she refused to be. Strong. Dependable. The kind of wolf this pack actually respects. The kind who deserves to stand beside the Alpha, not run from him.”

My hand drifted to my stomach, resting there a moment, warm and certain. “My child will be heir to this pack.”

Mira hesitated — just a beat too long. “And the Alpha believes it is his.”

“Yes.” I let the single word hold all the confidence it needed, though I caught the shape of the question she didn’t ask. Kier had felt it through the bond, in the council chamber, in front of everyone who mattered. Or at least he believed he had. And belief, in front of the right witnesses, is its own kind of truth.

There was still the matter of the seer.

The visit had been dangerous, forbidden by every law the council enforced, but I’d needed certainty before I built anything on top of a guess. I could still picture the cave: the smoke and dried herbs thick in the air, the old woman’s pale eyes finding mine in the dark.

“You seek truth,” she’d said.

“Yes.”

“Truth has consequences.”

“I can live with them.”

She’d taken my hands and closed her eyes, and the silence had stretched long enough that even I — who don’t frighten easily — had felt the first thread of unease.

Then: “The child carries the blood of the Beta.”

I’d expected it. Hearing it had still sent something sharp through my chest.

Jaxon’s child.

I love Jaxon, in my own way. He’s strong, loyal, fiercely protective — a perfect Beta, and the bond between us has never fully gone quiet, no matter how much careful distance I’ve put around it. But love has never been the currency I’m trading in. Destiny pays better, and I’d already decided which one I was spending.

I deserve to be Luna. Sable had thrown the future away. I had earned it, year by year, late night by late night, and if Jaxon’s child was the thing that finally secured it, then fate had simply caught up to the plan I’d already built.

Maybe there was still room for Jaxon in it. Not as mate. Something quieter — a lover, a father, someone close enough to keep me satisfied while I ruled beside Kier. The thought pulled a faint smile out of me, there and gone.

Then the air shifted.

A scent, sharp and familiar, cut through the herb smoke still clinging to my memory of the cave. My body went still.

Jaxon.

My wolf rose at the pull of him — stronger tonight, closer than I’d expected. He was at the door.

My heart skipped once. I smoothed my hair, schooled my expression into something calm, and crossed the room to open it.

He stood there. Eyes dark. Scent heavy with tension.

And something in his face told me, before he said a single word — this wasn’t a social visit.