CHAPTER 56

CHAPTER 56
CALANTHA

Ajax darted across the garden, his small hands outstretched toward a fluttering monarch butterfly. His laughter, so much like his father's, rang out when the creature eluded his grasp again.

"Almost got it that time!" I called, leaning against the bench. 

These stolen moments with my son were precious islands of joy in the complicated sea of palace life.

Ajax spun around, his dark curls bouncing, eyes alight with determination. "I'm going to catch one, Mommy! Watch me!"

I checked my watch, surprised to see how late it had grown. "Time to head in, little alpha. Bath time before dinner."

His shoulders slumped momentarily before he sprinted toward me. "Race you to the door!"

Inside the massive walls of the Alpha King's residence, servants bowed slightly as we passed. 

I crouched before Ajax outside his bedroom door. "Arms up." I helped him pull off his grass-stained shirt. "Into the bath with you. I'll check on dinner."

He nodded, already distracted by the toy boat floating in his bathwater. I left him with his attendant and made my way downstairs, the weight of a luna settling on my shoulders once more.

The kitchen bustled with activity, staff preparing the evening meal already. I inhaled deeply, savouring the rich scent of rosemary and garlic that filled the air.

"Everything on schedule?" I asked the head cook, who wiped her hands on her apron and nodded.

"Yes, Luna. The roast is nearly done, and the sides will be ready momentarily."

I winced internally at the title. Five years of being called "luna" and it still felt like an ill-fitting garment—something meant for someone else that I'd accidentally put on.

I moved through the dining room, straightening already-perfect place settings. The large table, built to accommodate pack leaders and dignitaries, felt emptier with just the three of us.

If he even showed up tonight.

The maid appeared with Ajax, his hair still damp and curling around his ears. I smiled and handed him a small towel. "Dry your hair properly, little one. We can't have you catching cold."

He rubbed the towel vigorously over his head, making his hair stand up in all directions. I smoothed it down gently, then gestured toward the staircase.

"Go tell your father it's time for dinner."

Ajax's face lit up. "Can I tell him about the butterflies?"

"Of course."

He bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time despite his short legs. I watched him go, a familiar ache spreading through my chest. For all the complexity between Arlo and me, Ajax adored his father unreservedly.

The clatter of silverware and clink of glasses filled the silence as I waited. Eventually, small footsteps announced Ajax's return. His shoulders drooped, lower lip pushed out in disappointment.

"Mommy, Daddy's not in his room," he said, eyes wide with confusion.

I swallowed the bitter taste of disappointment. "I see." I forced a smile, bending to his eye level. "Let's start dinner without him, then. He's probably busy with important alpha business."

The excuse sounded hollow even to my ears. 

"He always does, and leaves us alone."

I turned to the nearest maid, hoping my face didn't betray my emotions. "Have you seen the Alpha King today?"

She shook her head, eyes downcast. "No, miss. I haven't seen him since this morning."

I nodded, took Ajax's hand, and led him to the table. The staff began serving immediately. Perfectly cooked portions of meat, roasted vegetables, and freshly baked bread. Ajax climbed into his booster seat, his feet dangling above the floor.

"Tell me about school today," I prompted, cutting his meat into manageable pieces.

He launched into a story about a game they'd played, but I found my attention drifting to the empty chair at the head of the table. How many meals had Arlo missed this month alone? How many disappointments had Ajax weathered, too young to understand the complexities of his parents' relationship?

I forced myself to take small bites of food that now tasted like ash in my mouth. Ajax's chatter slowed as he noticed my distraction.

"Mommy?" His small voice pulled me back. "Are you and Daddy fighting?"

The question caught me off guard. "No, sweetie. Why would you think that?"

Ajax pushed a carrot around his plate, suddenly very interested in his food. "Tommy's parents fight sometimes. Then his daddy sleeps in another room." He looked up, eyes searching mine. "You and Daddy always sleep in different rooms."

My heart constricted. Children notice everything.

"That's just... how we are, Ajax."

He frowned, clearly unsatisfied. "Mommy, my friends' parents come to pick them up together. They play and laugh together." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I've never seen you and Daddy like that."

The truth of his words struck me. Five years of careful politeness, of navigating around each other, of maintaining appearances for the pack while living as strangers under the same roof, and still, we couldn't fool a four-year-old.

"Eat your food, sweetie," I said softly, unable to offer him the reassurance he sought. The lump in my throat made it difficult to swallow my dinner.

We finished the meal in relative silence, Ajax occasionally offering observations about his day, but the earlier lightness was gone. When he yawned widely, I seized the opportunity.

"Bedtime, I think."

I tucked him in myself, reading his favourite story about a wolf cub who discovers he can control the weather. His eyelids grew heavy by the third page.

"Will Daddy come say goodnight?" he murmured, already half-asleep.

"I'll tell him to look in on you when he gets back," I promised, knowing the words might prove empty. I pressed a kiss to his forehead and slipped out of the room.

\---

In my bedroom, separate from Arlo's, of course, I stood at the window, watching darkness settle over the territory. Lights twinkled in the distance, marking the boundaries of what was now the largest pack alliance in history.

"All of this power, all of this prestige... and for what?"

I slipped into bed, but sleep remained elusive. My mind refused to quiet, replaying memories I usually kept locked away. That night five years ago. The celebration after Arlo claimed the Silvermoon Pack. The drinks, the conversation that for once didn't feel strained, the moment when something shifted between us.

I'd seen a different side of him that night. not the wicked Alpha King. I'd let myself believe, just for a moment, that perhaps there was more to him than ambition and power.

Nine months later, Ajax was born.

A bitter laugh escaped me. One night of weakness had tied me permanently to a man who saw me as little more than the mother of his heir. The title of "the luna queen" did nothing to change the reality of our arrangement. Was all of these wory it? Stealing Odessa's place? 

I turned onto my side, punching my pillow into shape. If that night hadn't happened, where would I be now? Maybe I would have eventually given up and left. Instead, I was trapped in a marriage of convenience, playing my part in the carefully constructed image of the royal family.

But then I wouldn't have Ajax.

The thought tempered my resentment. My son was worth every complication, every awkward silence, every lonely night.

Still, as I drifted toward sleep, I couldn't help wondering if Arlo ever questioned our arrangement. If he ever looked at me, and regretted the distance between us. If he ever wished, as I sometimes did in my weakest moments, that we could try to be something more than strangers raising a child together.

Somehow, I doubted it. The Alpha King had everything he wanted—his territory, his heir, his throne.

And me? I had Ajax. I would try to make that enough.