Chapter 201: My Father In-law

Leo’s POV

I stepped into the corridor with a groan that came straight from my soul.

I wasn’t ready to face anyone. Not my guards. Not my council. Not the Alphas. Not my people. Definitely not my father-in-law.

I should’ve listened to Ivy and postponed the coronation. Hell, we should’ve stayed locked in that room for an entire week. No interruptions. No guards. No ceremonies. Just me, her, and that damn bed.

By the time we’d step out, she’d probably be pregnant…maybe even glowing already.

The image hit me hard. Ivy, round with my child, her scent richer, her skin flushed with my mark. It made my chest swell and my lips curve into a stupid, satisfied grin.

I didn’t even realize I was smiling until Ezra cleared his throat…loudly…through the mind link.

“Your Majesty, might wanna tone down the grin. You look like you just won a wrestling match with the Moon Goddess herself.”

I blinked and snapped my gaze around, grounding myself in the hallway.

The corridor had been transformed into some kind of royal showroom. The entire floor was covered with expensive wedding gifts…towering stacks of them, glittering and reeking of wealth.

There were gold-trimmed vases, hand-carved jewelry boxes, crates of imported wine and mead. Silver trays. Silk robes. Rare wolf pelts. Crystals shaped like roses. There was even a literal throne…a miniature version, jewel-encrusted, like someone thought I needed a smaller seat for my royal ass.

Ezra was crouched near a mountain of wrapped boxes, sniffing one suspiciously like a bloodhound. He shook it next to his ear, then pressed his nose to it again. “Your Majesty, the Queen was indeed spoiled like you said. Her family is fucking loaded!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Stop embarrassing me, Ezra. I’m equally wealthy, aren’t I?”

He smirked. “Of course, Your Majesty. Just not her father-level wealthy. You know…human old money. They measure status by how many boats and wine cellars they own.”

I ignored him, though my throat suddenly felt dry.

Why the hell was I nervous? It was Richard. I’d seen the man several times…during our engagement party, during negotiations. He wasn’t exactly terrifying. And yet…

My palms grew clammy.

Why do I feel like some teenage wolf about to ask his mate’s father for permission to go to prom?

Stupid.

What if he saw me as a failure? What if he thought I wasn’t strong enough to protect her when she went missing? I mean, technically, I didn’t end up finding her…she found me first. That doesn’t scream “dominant Alpha King,” does it?

“Your Majesty,” Ezra interrupted my mental breakdown, his voice tight with barely contained laughter, “you’re sweating. You’re going to ruin your makeup.”

I froze.

Makeup?

My head whipped toward him. “I’m not wearing makeup, Ezra!”

He burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “I know, I know! But your face…you panicked like you were about to cry over mascara!”

I glared. Hard.

“Relax, Your Majesty,” he said, still chuckling as he straightened up and brushed invisible dust off my royal cloak. “They’re humans. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Everything,” I muttered. My jaw tightened. “Is this the urgent thing I was called for? Because if so, I might throw someone off the balcony.”

Ezra coughed, his amusement fading slightly. “Well… technically, no. The Queen mind-linked me to get you out of the room.”

My eyes narrowed dangerously. “She what?”

He raised both hands quickly. “Her words, not mine…she said, and I quote, ‘He’s being a pain in the ass. Get him out before I strangle him with the corset laces.’”

My chest puffed. My wolf bristled.

“Of all the pains I could be, she chose that one? The ass?”

Ezra nodded solemnly. “Yes, Your Majesty. The ass.”

A low growl ripped from my throat, deep enough to rattle the chandelier above us. “Ezra, I’ll advise you to stitch your mouth shut before I…” I leaned closer, lowering my voice darkly, “before I stuff you into one of these gift boxes, wrap you in gold paper, and send you to Dina labeled ‘fragile disappointment.’”

He tried not to laugh. Failed miserably and started coughing instead. “That was oddly specific, Your Majesty.”

I wasn’t done.

“It’s not even been up to a week and she’s tired already? Oh, the ways I’ll make her pay for this…” I muttered, pacing. “She won’t set her eyes on another person but me for a full year. She’ll eat with me, sleep with me, breathe with me, oh and I will..”

“…and you’ll what?”

The voice thundered down the hall, deep and commanding, cutting me off.

I froze mid-sentence.

Ezra’s grin widened instantly as I turned slowly.

And there he was.

Richard Blackwood.

I forced air down my throat and tried to steady the damn tremor. My hands wanted to shake. My mouth wanted to stutter and trip over itself like a kid asking for permission. I was the King. I shouldn’t have felt this small.

I remembered the night he humiliated me…the way Mr. Richard stared right through me when I tried to say the woman with him was Ivy’s twin, Lila.

He’d called me a liar. A dog. He broke off the engagement and then treated me like I didn’t belong on the same floor as his daughter. He’d been so sure I was some monster, trying to steal his child. All because of that monster.

Part of me wanted to shove that memory in his face and yell, ‘I told you so!’ Part of me thought maybe he should feel ashamed for not listening. Maybe he should remember how wrong he’d been. Maybe he should swallow his pride and apologize.

Instead, I lifted my head, raised my chin, and cleared my throat. I forced the smile. I forced the calm.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Blackwood.” My arm went out to shake. My voice was steadier than I felt.

He didn’t take it. He only glared…slow, cold, like he wanted to strip me down and show me naked to the whole court.

Marcus…loud, always grinning Marcus…laughed like someone had turned on the sun. He grabbed my hand instead, clapped me on the shoulder, and told me not to mind his brother. “Don’t mind him, Leo. He’ll warm up.”

Then Richard turned sharp and asked, “What did you say you were going to do to my daughter?”

I swallowed. My throat was dry. My jaw worked. I almost stuttered. I felt the words catching.

The hall was filling…Alphas, elders, pack members. Some stopped at the archway, pretending not to watch, but I know better. They were watching.

I flicked a quick mindlink to Ezra. Move them inside. Now. The message was short and urgent.

Ezra answered with a mental nudge and a flurry of motion. People started moving. Guards stepped aside. Servants herded the last of the stragglers into the hall.

Relief hit me like a cool blade. I turned to Richard, ready to pull him aside. I’d get him alone. We’d talk like men. Privately. No show. No audience.

He repeated the words anyway, louder this time. “What did you say you were going to do to my daughter?”

I flinched. For a fraction of a second, I flinched. Me. Leo Ashton. King of the entire realm. Flinching for a mere human? What a fucking joke.

A woman’s voice cut through then, sharp and salty. “Richard, let the poor child be!”

She was chubby and carried warmth like a blanket. Her presence made you want to forgive everything and eat cake with her. Ivy had spoken about her when she was telling me her story. What did she call her again, Rose? Rosemary? Rosa?

Ah that’s it! Rosa.

“Hello,” I said to the woman with the smile I kept ready when I wanted to win someone to my side. “You must be Rosa. Nice to finally meet you. My fiancée spoke so much about you.”

She didn’t hesitate. She pulled me into a hug and I was caught off guard. The hug was solid. Comforting. Real. But Richard cleared his throat and she broke free.

“I’m so happy I got to meet my chica’s husband-to-be. Now where is she?” The woman asked but Richard interrupted with a frown of course.

“She’s not his fiancée. Last I checked, we called off the engagement and I don’t remember you coming to me for my daughter after that.” He sounded stubborn. Proud.

Rosa slapped his shoulder like he was a naughty child. “Stop acting like a teenager! We came here to celebrate, remember? Didn’t you agree for her to come here in the first place?”

“Just one English tutor, Rosa, and now you think you’re a talk show host,” he muttered, earning another sharp slap to his back.

“Keep quiet, Richard. Ivy is his fiancée. Accept it or you walk back home,” she hissed.

I rode that moment like a wave as impulse kicked in. My chest tightened, my wolf snarling inside me, urging me to make them understand…Ivy is me, and I’m her.

So, I said the first thing that tugged at my lips. “Exactly, Rosa. And she’s not just my fiancée…we are getting married today.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to erupt. “And what if I don’t agree with that?” he asked, low and dangerous.