Chapter 24 Dangerous Decisions
Dangerous Decisions
Dane’s POV
He let out another faint cough, shallow and rattling, and I didn’t need anyone to tell me what it meant.
My father’s time was running out.
The realisation sat heavy in my chest like a stone, sinking deeper with every weak breath he took.
I set another mate-choosing ceremony. I planned to tell you before I lost consciousness; he said his usual rage eyes looked pleading.
I stood beside the bed, hands clenched at my sides, watching his strength fade slowly like a dying candle.
“You went ahead and planned another mate-choosing ceremony?” I asked like I had not heard properly.
The words slipped out harsher than I intended. He winced slightly.
“This is why we are never on the same page,” I continued, frustration bleeding into my voice.
“You didn’t even tell me. You just… decided. The last ceremony did nothing but waste resources and invite strangers into the royal pack house. What did it accomplish?”
He shifted weakly against his pillows.
“I did what I had to do,” he replied quietly.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Did you?” I snapped.
“Or did you just panic and pretend tradition could fix everything?”
His voice grew tired.
“I need the elders to see we’re doing something,” he said.
“I need them to believe that I am not simply waiting to die while this kingdom falls apart in my hands.”
I inhaled sharply.
“I never agreed to take the throne,” I reminded him, forcing my voice to remain calm.
“I never agreed to be your replacement. So stop making plans around a future I never asked for.”
He looked at me with something dangerously close to fear.
“You know Draxon will take this opportunity if you don’t.”
I stiffened. The name alone tasted like poison. Draxon was my uncle; he was my father’s half-brother.
Next in line if I refused the crown.
Even as a child, I had seen the cruelty in him. The satisfaction he took in witnessing suffering. Draxon didn’t simply rule with force — he ruled with pride. He enjoyed breaking people and enjoyed watching fear bloom in their eyes.
“No one with a heart would let Draxon wear a crown,” my father said weakly.
I exhaled slowly. “This wasn’t the plan.”
My voice dropped, barely above a whisper.
“My mission was simple,” I muttered.
“Find her. End her. Be free.”
Nothing about this… was simple.
“Then do it quickly,” he urged.
“Before the pack shatters from within.”
My jaw tightened.
“Can I rule without a mate?” I asked suddenly. I was just asking the questions for formality, just to hear from him, even though I knew the exact answer.
My father stiffened. His eyes widened.
“Dane—”
I held up a hand.
“Relax. I’m not deciding anything. I’m just asking.” There was emphasis on just.
“Custom forbids it,” he answered immediately. “No Alpha has ever ruled without a Luna. It is not done.”
“What if I fail her?” I asked quietly.
The words slipped before I could stop them; a shadow crossed his face.
“You won’t.”
“Don’t lie to me,” I shot back.
“Not when I’m standing here watching you fade.”
His voice softened. “It happened once,” he said gently. “It does not mean it must happen again.”
I swallowed. The memory burnt.
The guilt clawed at my heart like an untended wound. “You’ll say anything if it gets me to agree,” I muttered bitterly.
He turned his head aside; I knew I had struck the truth.
“I need air,” I said sharply.
“I will send a maid to come tend to you.” I turned and left the room with a storm brewing inside me.
The palace walls felt smaller with every step, as if they were closing in and crushing.
I paused abruptly when I spotted a passing maid.
“You,” I called.
She froze, fear flashing in her eyes.
“Yes, my prince?”
“Bring liquor, something very strong.”
She hesitated. “Now?” like she was schooling me on the sins of drinking so early.
I met her gaze coldly; she flinched slightly.
“Now!” I yelled.
She bowed quickly and scurried off.
I headed toward the place I always ran to when my thoughts became unbearable. A corner of the palace tower that overlooked the forest.
They called it reflection; I called it escape.
A place where I let out my thoughts, and it felt like the place wouldn't judge me.
In truth rarely reflected there, I drank.
That corner had watched me unravel more than once.
The familiar wind greeted me the moment I stepped onto the platform, cooling my heated skin.
Minutes later, light footsteps approached.
“My prince.”
I turned.
The maid arrived carrying a tray with a dark crystal bottle and a single cup.
“Place it down,” I ordered.
She did and bowed and left almost immediately after I flickered my hands for her to leave.
I stared at the bottle for a long moment.
Then I opened it; the first gulp burnt, and the second numbed.
I leaned against the stone railing and looked out into the endless stretch of trees, my thoughts swirling. I didn’t want a crown; I didn’t want a destined bond that might be my damnation.
I didn’t want responsibility carved into my bones; I feared ruling.
I feared becoming my father.
Fearing becoming my uncle even more, I exhaled harshly.
After hours of drinking I came to a conclusion.
Maybe picking a mate wouldn’t be that bad. It was only a duty; love wasn't mandatory, and there was no loyalty. She would bear my name, no pups, and live separately; a business arrangement and nothing more. It didn’t have to matter. It couldn’t matter.
My mate wouldn’t stop me from finding her, the girl I was meant to end, and once I did, everything would be settled for good. Everything would finally be easier. I lifted the cup again and drank deeply.
“Picking a mate might not be that bad,” I muttered to the empty air, the bitterness in my voice heavier than the drink.