Chapter 64 Grand Queen Arranges Lucian’s Marriage

Chapter 64 Grand Queen Arranges Lucian’s Marriage
64: Grand Queen Arranges Lucian’s Marriage

The morning air in Dravenmoor was sharp, tinged with smoke, pine, and the faint metallic scent of blood from yesterday’s skirmishes. Peaceful? Hardly. But nothing in this life or any life I had lived was peaceful when it came to the Halecrest politics or, more accurately, Grand Queen Leticia.

Lucian and I had spent a rare few hours together, tent to tent, repairing our bodies, our minds, and whatever fraction of normalcy could exist in the ruins of Dravenmoor. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to sit in his presence without my heart hammering from near death rituals and unsealed curses. Almost.

Then came the letter.

I should have known. The Queen never sent messengers for casual reasons. If she wrote, it meant war or worse, interference with our lives.

Lucian broke the wax seal first. His brow furrowed as he read the message. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“It’s… Leticia,” he muttered, voice tight. “She has… arranged my marriage.”

I blinked. Slowly. My stomach fell into a pit so deep I almost questioned my ability to stand. “Arrange… your marriage? Again?” I asked, incredulous. My voice was calm, but the tremor in my chest betrayed me.

“Yes,” he said, jaw tightening. “She wants me to marry someone from Grandlewood. Nerissa herself. Strengthen alliances. Consolidate power. Standard politics. All completely absurd.”

I stared at him. At the calm fury in his eyes. On the way his hand tightened around the parchment like he was holding back a storm. And my hands began to shake.

“Wait. Wait,” I said slowly, as if speaking carefully could slow the chaos that was building in my chest. “You’re… you’re supposed to marry her. Like… officially? You’re not asking her opinion? You’re not… consulted me? Or… or even considering me?”

Lucian’s jaw twitched. “She doesn’t care about us, Keira. The Queen doesn’t recognize anything but alliances and obedience.”

I wanted to laugh, cry, and scream all at once. Instead, I grabbed my forehead and muttered: “Of course she doesn’t. Why would she? Everything about my life is apparently temporary, replaceable, or politically inconvenient.”

He stepped closer, voice low but firm. “Keira. Listen. I am not going to do this.”

I blinked. I wasn’t sure if I believed him at first. The Grand Queen’s orders were absolute in the political hierarchy. She had crushed stronger men than Lucian. She had bent packs, alliances, and entire territories to her will with a single glance.

“You’re serious?” I asked, wary, because hope had a way of biting back hard in Dravenmoor.

He nodded, stepping closer until the heat from his body hit me, grounding me. “I will not marry her. Not now, not ever. You are… the one I chose. You survived curses, battles, death, and still stood beside me. Do you think I would trade that for politics?”

I felt my heart stutter, then pound, then catch fire. And I wanted to believe him so badly that for one fleeting moment, I forgot the political landmine we were about to walk on barefoot.

“Then what do we do?” I whispered, voice trembling.

He tilted his head, eyes darkening with a mix of humor, warning, and sheer determination. “We deal with her. Politically. Strategically. Without losing what is ours. Without—”

“I know,” I cut in, gritting my teeth. “Without losing each other. I am not going to let her… or anyone… take this from us. Again.”

Lucian’s lips twitched. “Good. Because you are entirely mine, Keira. And if she wants to test that… I will show her what it means to cross Dravenmoor’s Alpha.”

I snorted softly, partly in relief, partly in disbelief. “Yes, show her. Politely. Subtly. Maybe just burn down her carriage. Or her hair. Whatever makes her remember she doesn’t control my life.”

He chuckled, dangerous, low, and utterly Lucian. “I like the way your mind works. Brutally effective.”

The moment of laughter was cut short by a knock at the tent flap. I froze. My stomach clenched. Not again, please not again.

Elijah appeared. Neutral. Professional. Slightly grim. “Alpha. The Grand Queen has arrived. She insists on an audience immediately.”

I blinked. Oh yes. Of course she did. She had to arrive herself to deliver the ultimatum. Personally. Because what better way to assert dominance than making us both face her wrath at the same time?

Lucian’s eyes darkened. “Let her come. But know this, Keira. I will not kneel. I will not yield. She will have no control over us.”

I swallowed hard. My chest ached with anticipation, fear, and excitement all at once. This was a battle I had no idea how to fight, and yet… somehow, I had survived far worse.

The canvas of the tent flapped sharply, and the Grand Queen stepped inside. She surveyed the tent, Lucian, and me like a hawk circling prey. Her lips curved in a practiced, icy smile.

“Alpha Lucian,” she said smoothly, “Aria Quinn.” Her eyes lingered on me, sharp, calculating. “I trust you understand the importance of your obedience, my son. And you, Aria, the position you hold is… fragile.”

I stood straighter. The “fragile” comment, unspoken but understood, was clearly meant as a threat. My hands curled into fists at my sides. “Yes, my Queen. Fragile, but apparently also alive and perfectly capable of surviving centuries of prophecy, curses, and alpha temper tantrums. You’re welcome.”

Lucian stifled a laugh at my remark. I smirked at him, grateful for his silent support.

She ignored my tone, of course. She never acknowledged humor it was a dangerous thing in her world. “Your presence complicates matters,” she said smoothly. “Lucian’s marriage must proceed. You cannot interfere. You are to leave Dravenmoor if necessary.”

I felt my chest tighten. “Leave?” I asked slowly. “Excuse me?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You misunderstand. Your survival is… tolerated. But Dravenmoor’s future requires sacrifices. You… may not like them, but they are necessary.”

Lucian stepped in front of me, his presence shielding me like a living fortress. “No. You will not touch her. She will stay’.”

Grand Queen’s eyes flicked between the two of us, sharp, calculating, and unreadable. “You may think you defy me, but defiance has consequences. Would your pack stay living in a tent? The whole council is questioning now. Remember that, Lucian.”

Lucian’s hand found mine, squeezing tightly. 

The Grand Queen’s carriage waited for her outside, every step measured, calculated. She left with a wave of authority, but the weight of her words lingered, a threat in every shadow she left behind.

Lucian pulled me close once the air cleared, his lips brushing my temple. “No one decides our future but us,” he said.

I smirked, a little humor breaking through the tension. “Except maybe the moon. And even she seems to like us.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, and kissed the top of my head. “Exactly. And as long as we survive, the moon, the stars, and every pack in the world can shove their politics.”

I nodded against him, letting a tiny bit of relief wash over me. Temporary relief. Yes. But it was enough.