Chapter 6 Chapter 6: The Weight of a Crown
The darkness didn't last long enough. I wanted to stay in the void, where there were no Kings, no sisters, and no biological impossibilities. But consciousness returned like a bucket of ice water, sharp and unforgiving.
The first thing I realized was that I wasn't on the cold stone of the Receiving Hall. I was lying on a stiff, sterile cot in the Royal Infirmary. The air here didn't smell like cedar or rain; it smelled of antiseptic, crushed herbs, and the faint, biting scent of silver-wash.
"She’s awake."
The voice was female, cold, and efficient. I turned my head, my neck screaming in protest where the brand had pulled against the pillow. An elderly woman in a grey tunic stood over me, her hands stained purple from grinding berries. She was a Pack Healer—one of the few people in the palace allowed to touch the King without an invitation.
"Don't try to sit up," she commanded, pressing a cold, damp cloth to my forehead. "Your blood pressure is bottoming out, and your heart is beating like a hummingbird’s. You're lucky you didn't crack your skull on the dais."
"Where is he?" I whispered, my throat feeling like it was lined with sandpaper.
"The King is outside," she said, her eyes flickering with something that looked suspiciously like pity. "He has been there since they carried you in. He cleared the hall personally. I believe three guards are currently in the dungeons for 'allowing the Queen to fall.'"
I closed my eyes, a shiver running through me. He wasn't worried about me. He was angry. His "Perfect Luna" had cracked in front of his enemies, and Fenris didn't tolerate weakness.
But then I remembered Isadora’s words. Barren. Iron. Pregnancy.
"Is it true?" I asked, my voice barely a breath. "What she said?"
The Healer paused. She looked at the door, then back at me. She leaned in, her voice dropping so low I had to strain to hear it. "I have seen many things in my eighty years, Nina. I have seen wolves born to humans and humans born to Alphas. But I have never seen a scent profile like yours. It’s shifting. Every hour, it becomes more… ancient."
She reached out, her hand hovering over my stomach. "You are barely two weeks from conception. By all laws of nature, I shouldn't be able to hear a second heartbeat yet. But there is a rhythm there. It’s faint, but it’s fast. And it’s strong."
My breath hitched. "But I'm... I don't have a wolf. My father said I was a defect."
"Your father is a fool who only looks at the surface," the Healer snapped. "Something is waking up inside you. Whether it’s because of the child or because you’ve finally been triggered by a True Mate, I don't know. But the Council will call it a miracle. Or a curse."
The heavy doors to the infirmary swung open with a violence that made the glass jars on the shelves rattle.
Fenris walked in. He didn't look like the man who had wiped a tear from my face in the throne room. He looked like the monster the legends warned about. His silver eyes were rimmed with red, and his aura was so heavy it felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.
"Out," he said to the Healer.
"My King, she needs—"
"OUT."
The Healer didn't argue. She grabbed her bag and scurried away, the door clicking shut behind her with a sound that felt like a trap snapping shut.
Fenris didn't move toward the bed. He stood at the foot of it, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He looked at me as if I were a stranger—or a weapon that had just gone off in his hand.
"Isadora is a spiteful snake," he said, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. "But she is rarely wrong about blood. She spent three years scented to your sister. She knows Elena’s biology better than anyone."
He finally stepped closer, looming over the bed. The shadows under his eyes told me he hadn't slept. "The Elena at the Academy was barren, Nina. A freak accident with a silver-tipped training sword when she was sixteen. She could never carry an heir. That was why your father was so desperate to marry her off to me—he wanted to unload a 'broken' Luna onto the Lycan throne before I found out."
I pushed myself up on my elbows, the room spinning for a moment. "I didn't know. I swear, Fenris. I lived in the kitchens. I wasn't allowed to know anything about her medical history."
"I believe you," he said, and for a second, I felt a spark of hope. Then he continued. "But the Council won't. They saw you faint. They heard the accusation. And now they are demanding a Blood Test."
I felt the blood drain from my face. A Blood Test wouldn't just show the pregnancy. It would show my DNA. It would show I wasn't Elena.
"If they test me, we’re dead," I whispered. "Your Alphas will rise against you for being tricked. My father’s pack will be slaughtered. And you... you’ll lose everything."
Fenris laughed, a jagged, mirthless sound. "You think I care about the throne? I’ve held this crown by treading on the throats of men who wanted to kill me since I was twelve. I care about the fact that I have an impostor in my bed who is carrying a child that shouldn't exist."
He leaned down, his face inches from mine. I could smell the leather of his harness and the metallic tang of his rage. "Whose is it, Nina?"
The question felt like a physical slap. "What?"
"The human boy," Fenris hissed, his fingers digging into the wooden frame of the cot. "Did you lie with him before you took the dress? Did you come to me already carrying a human’s bastard to foist it onto my lineage?"
"No!" I screamed, the force of my own voice surprising me. I reached out and grabbed the front of his tunic, pulling him down. "I have never been touched by anyone but you. You know that. You felt the blood on the sheets. You felt the bond at the altar!"
"I felt a lie!" he roared back, but he didn't pull away.
We stayed like that, locked in a battle of breathing and heartbeats. My anger was matching his now. I was tired of being the victim. I was tired of being the "defect."
"Check the dates, Fenris," I said, my voice trembling with fury. "The Healer says it’s two weeks. That’s the wedding night. That’s the night you branded me. That’s the night you decided to play god with my life."
Fenris stared at me, his eyes searching mine for any hint of a deception. Slowly, his grip on the bed frame loosened. He looked down at my stomach, his expression shifting from rage to a deep, haunting confusion.
"If it’s mine..." he trailed off, his voice barely audible. "If you are carrying a Lycan heir while having no wolf of your own... it will kill you, Nina. A human body cannot sustain a King’s child. The pup will drain you dry before it’s even halfway grown."
He sat on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands. It was the first time I had ever seen him look small.
"I thought I was saving you by keeping the secret," he muttered. "But I’ve just signed your death warrant."
I reached out, my fingers hesitating before resting on his shoulder. He didn't pull away.
"I’m not human, Fenris," I said softly.
He looked up, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"The Healer said my scent is changing. And when I fainted... I heard something. Inside me. It wasn't a girl’s voice. It was a howl."
I took his hand and placed it over my heart. "Something is waking up. And I don't think it’s going to let me die."
Fenris looked at his hand on my chest, then back at my eyes. The tension in the room changed. It wasn't about the secret anymore. It was about survival.
"Isadora will be back," he said, his voice regaining its steel. "She’ll bring the High Priest. They’ll demand the Blood Test by sunset. We have six hours to find a way to fake your biology, or we flee the capital."
"Flee?" I asked. "The King doesn't flee."
"The King does whatever is necessary to keep what is his," Fenris said, standing up. He looked down at me, and for the first time, there was no cruelty in his eyes. Only a grim, terrifying protectiveness. "And right now, Nina... you and that child are all I have left."
The door opened, and a guard entered, looking pale. "My King... Lady Isadora has returned. She isn't alone. She has the Alpha Council with her. They are demanding the Trial of Scent."
Fenris’s jaw tightened. "The Trial of Scent. They want to see if the wolf recognizes the bride."
He looked at me. "Can you stand?"
"I have to," I said.
As I climbed out of the bed, the room tilted again, but this time, I didn't fall. I felt a surge of heat from my core—a golden, burning thread of energy that steadied my legs. It wasn't Nina. It was the secret I was carrying.
"Then let's go," Fenris said, offering me his arm. "Let’s show them why it's a mistake to hunt a King’s mate."