Chapter 122 122
Denzel’s POV
We agreed to remain alert to watch Fabian closely and anticipate whatever tactics he might attempt next.
That evening, we shared dinner as a family, with Rayon joining us, and afterward we retired for the night. Venessa needed to rest. Tomorrow would be monumental, and she had to look radiant strong, composed, unshaken.
I, on the other hand, barely slept.
My thoughts churned endlessly everything we had discussed with the elders, with King Jamar, with one another. Despite finally knowing Tremaine was the threat, it felt as though we were still moving in the dark. Eshera didn’t operate plainly. She wore faces, twisted minds, hid behind familiar forms. It could be anyone. Or anything. All we could do was stay guarded.
Morning arrived too soon.
As Venessa and I bathed together, I could feel her nerves humming beneath the surface. She didn’t know what awaited her what would unfold once she stepped into that hall. Though I wasn’t the one being crowned, our bond made her fear my own. I felt it settle in my chest like a shared heartbeat.
Soon, attendants arrived to take her from me.
I knew I wouldn’t see her again until the coronation.
Once she was gone, I reached out to Rayon through the link. He told me he was in the lounge, so I joined him there. When word came that guests were beginning to arrive, we returned to our rooms to prepare.
When I entered mine, I stopped short.
Lying neatly on the bed was a full Lycan Prince regalia tailored perfectly to my size.
“Denzel,” King Jamar’s voice sounded in my mind.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied immediately.
“Do you like the outfit?” he asked.
I smiled. “I do.”
“Good,” he said warmly. “You are the son I never had, and I am grateful you are mated to my child. You and Venessa will make exceptional leaders when I am gone. Do me the honour of dressing the part.”
I thanked him sincerely, but my heart ached.
If only he knew the truth that he would outlive his daughter. That if we survived the war against Eshera, I would one day rule while his grandchildren grew without their mother. I didn’t know how he would endure that loss. I wasn’t sure he could.
I dressed slowly.
The outfit was black and gold, adorned with ancient symbols, a royal crest, and visible ranks. It fit perfectly. When I stepped into the corridor, Rayon joined me, his eyes widening in surprise.
“King Jamar wants me to look the part,” I explained quickly.
Rayon smiled. “You were always meant for royalty.”
I laughed softly.
Then King Jamar linked everyone at once, summoning us to the Grand Hall.
When Rayon and I arrived, the sight before us was breathtaking. King Jamar sat upon his throne on the raised platform, crowned and clad in full royal regalia. Beside him stood Elder Craig, next to the crown that would soon rest on Venessa’s head. The crown lay atop a pillow held by two warriors. Beside it rested a ceremonial sword.
My pulse quickened.
We approached and bowed before the King, then I was guided to sit among the rulers. I found myself seated between Donovan and Fabian. Donovan looked pleased to see me.
Fabian, however, sneered.
“So you’re part of this charade,” he muttered.
I frowned inwardly at his tone. Technically, I outranked him now.
“Why are you dressed like royalty?” he continued sharply. “You divorced my daughter. You have no business pretending to be a prince, Denzel.”
I had no desire to engage him. Instead, I thanked him curtly for his concern.
Soon, everyone was asked to rise as the coronation music began.
I didn’t need to turn around to know Venessa had entered.
King Jamar stood, gripping his sword, while the crown remained poised on its pillow. Murmurs rippled through the hall as recognition dawned.
It felt like an eternity before she passed our row though I knew it was only because I was desperate to see her.
When she finally did, my breath caught.
Venessa was breathtaking.
Donovan and Fabian froze as she passed them, recognition striking instantly. Shock followed.
She wore a cream lace mermaid gown with long sleeves and a sweeping train, the neckline modest and elegant. Draped over her shoulders was a royal black-and-white cape. Diamonds adorned her like stars.
She was radiant.
“This is absurd,” Fabian hissed. “I thought you said this girl had no Lycan blood. Why is she being crowned?”
“I lied,” I whispered back calmly. “So you’d leave her alone.”
Donovan leaned in. “Is that why you refused to give her to Keon?”
“No,” I replied. “She’s my fated. I couldn’t let her go.”
Donovan hesitated. “Is she truly his daughter?”
“Yes.”
Fabian’s rage exploded instantly.
“You liar,” he spat. “You deceived the King. You must have demanded this in exchange for curing him. He looks far too healthy. This is nothing but a ploy for power especially after I removed you from the line of succession.”
I didn’t dignify him with a response.
“She must prove herself,” Fabian continued loudly. “Most of us came prepared. King Jamar wouldn’t force a stranger upon us unless she could prove she belongs.”
I kept my eyes forward.
They had no idea what they were about to witness.
As the coronation prepared to begin, an objection rang out demanding Venessa prove her worth first.
All I could do was smile.
Because beyond her Lycan blood… her wolf was one with Atabey.
And they were about to learn exactly what that meant.