Chapter 123 123
Denzel’s POV
King Jamar turned toward the direction the protest had come from, his expression darkening with restrained anger.
“I agree,” another man said, rising to his feet.
“We understand your fondness for Alpha Denzel, Your Majesty,” he continued boldly, “but naming his wife your heir so you can place him on the throne is wrong.”
The hall erupted into murmurs voices stacking atop one another in complaint. A chill ran through me. I couldn’t help but wonder if Eshera had already begun weaving herself into their hearts. Despite their fear of the King, they had found the courage to challenge him openly.
“Enough!” King Jamar thundered.
Though his voice was furious, I sensed something else beneath it satisfaction. From the corner of my eye, I felt King Fabian’s barely contained glee. He wanted this chaos. He wanted the King provoked.
“What nonsense is this?” Jamar demanded.
A bear elder rose, bowing respectfully. “We do not wish to anger you, Your Majesty. We only ask that you explain how Venessa Walker is related to you and why we should allow her to succeed you when the time comes.”
King Jamar looked at Venessa, his gaze softening, then returned his attention to the hall.
“I was fated to a werewolf named Danisha Gordon, Alpha Carlton Gordon’s sister,” he said evenly. “Before I exiled her, she was carrying my child. Though she is late to be acknowledged, Venessa is that child. As you can see, she bears a striking resemblance to my late mother. And I possess DNA results to prove it.”
A ripple of surprise passed through the hall.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” King Fabian said, standing abruptly.
I stiffened.
“I know the woman you are attempting to crown,” Fabian continued, turning to address the crowd. “And I highly doubt she is your daughter.”
Gasps echoed.
“She was a refugee someone my daughter took pity on when she wandered into the Blood Moon pack,” he went on smoothly. “Unknown to my daughter, this woman harbored treacherous intentions. She drove my daughter out of her own marriage and installed herself as the new Luna of the pack.”
The murmurs grew louder.
“I was uneasy the moment I saw her,” Fabian pressed. “I begged Denzel to send her away. I warned him. But he insisted she was harmless. She entered the pack as a servant, rose to healer, then Luna and now she stands here as Crown Princess. Are we truly blind to the pattern? Or are we witnessing the rise of a social climber?”
The hall buzzed with uneasy agreement.
“How can a servant a refugee be crowned Princess?” someone muttered.
My blood boiled.
“That is not true,” I said, standing.
Silence fell.
“I divorced my Luna because she was fated to my Beta,” I said clearly, “and they were engaged in an affair that resulted in a pregnancy.”
The hall gasped again.
“You may verify this with the other Alphas,” I added.
“Princess Venessa arrived in my pack as my fated mate. We rejected one another because I was married. We never acted on our bond. I appointed her healer only after she saved my Gamma and me from poisoning poison I ingested during a council meeting. She went on to save countless others.”
I scanned the room.
“She is not a social climber. Let us not allow desperate ambition to blind our judgment. It is disgraceful to stand here and malign someone you barely know.”
Whispers followed but they were uncertain now.
“Even so,” another voice rose, “how is it that she is suddenly related to His Majesty? We know she is a healer. Could it be that she cured the King and demanded this position as payment?”
Rage surged through me but before I could speak, a crushing pressure flooded the room. Fear wrapped around my chest, pinning me in place.
At first, I thought it was King Jamar.
Then I saw Venessa.
She had turned toward the crowd, her eyes pitch-black Lycan eyes blazing with authority.
“Enough,” she commanded.
The hall fell into absolute silence.
I had never seen her like this.
“How dare you speak of me as though I am not standing before you?” she said, her voice sharp and unyielding.
I knew then it was Nyla.
“How dare you judge me. Insult me. Condemn me without knowing me.”
No one spoke.
“Do you think I care about being Crown Princess?” she continued coldly. “I am here because I have found my father. I accepted this role to prevent war.”
Her gaze swept the room.
“While King Fabian wastes time gathering allies and manipulating his way upward, there is a far greater threat rising one none of you wish to acknowledge. Alpha Tremaine and the Silver Forest clan.”
The air went heavy.
“I suggest you all sit down,” she finished. “Let us proceed. I have far too much work to do.”
She turned back to her father.
I smiled.
There was no longer any need for proof. Only Morrison blood commanded like that. Atabey’s presence strengthened it but Venessa had been born for this.
“Incredible,” King Donovan whispered, awe clear in his voice.
Fabian stood frozen, shock etched into his face.
No one dared object again.
They had demanded proof and they had received it.
The coronation proceeded without interruption.
After Venessa was crowned, King Jamar named me Prince.
The hall erupted in cheers.
Fabian turned green with envy.
I understood his bitterness. He believed stripping me of succession had broken me. Instead, I now stood above him. The throne he had chased for years would one day be mine freely given.
What he fought tooth and nail for, I never asked for.
And yet, it felt like no victory at all.
Because when that day came… Venessa would not be beside me.
Everyone lost something.
The coronation gave way to a grand banquet. Despite the short notice, the celebration was extravagant. People marveled at the display.
They toasted us. Congratulated us.
Allies appeared from nowhere.
Suddenly, everyone was kind. Everyone wanted proximity. Invitations poured in dinners, alliances, partnerships.
The Blood Moon pack would rise stronger than ever.
And just like that… the world shifted.