But as they moved toward the transport bay, Thalen’s expression darkened. “There’s something you need to know before we face the council.”
Kovrak’s steps slowed. “What is it?”
“Varrek’s been making noise again.” Thalen’s voice carried the flat tone he used for delivering unpleasant tacticalassessments. “The fire and wolf attack failure didn’t deter him. If anything, it seems to have made him more desperate.”
The warmth in Kovrak’s chest crystallized into something harder. “Explain.”
“He’s been talking to pride members,” Merral added, his earlier joy fading into grim concern. “Bragging about plans to challenge you publicly on the final day of the festival, regardless of any mating or proposal.”
Kovrak’s jaw tightened until the muscle jumped. The sacred moment he’d been planning—kneeling before Faith in the ancient gardens, offering her a crown and his heart—threatened to dissolve into political theater orchestrated by a man who couldn’t accept defeat gracefully.
“He’s always favored brute strength over diplomacy,” Kovrak said, his voice dropping to the dangerous quiet his enemies had learned to fear. “But I refuse to govern through intimidation. This kingdom deserves better than rule by fear.”
They climbed into the transport in tense silence, the vehicle’s hum doing nothing to ease the knot of anger building in Kovrak’s chest. Varrek had clearly orchestrated the attack that nearly killed Faith, had used innocent pride members as pawns in his ambition, and now planned to corrupt the most important moment of Kovrak’s life with public spectacle and challenge.
The ride to town passed without conversation, Kovrak’s thoughts too dark and furious for casual exchange. By the time they reached the council hall, his control had settled back into its familiar rigid lines, but the rage simmered just beneath the surface.
The council chamber fell silent as he entered, twelve pairs of eyes turning toward him with curious attention. Elder Corwin rose from his position at the head of the curved table, his expression confused but welcoming.
“Your Highness. We weren’t expecting you today.”
“Plans change,” Kovrak replied, moving to stand before them with the bearing of a man about to reshape their world. “I come with news that affects our kingdom’s entire future.”
He didn’t waste time with preamble or political niceties. “This morning, Faith Woodard accepted my mate mark. The bond between us is complete, and I intend to propose formally in two days’ time. I seek your blessing for the union.”
The silence stretched long enough for surprise to register on every face before Elder Corwin’s weathered features broke into a broad smile.
“By the ancestors,” he breathed. “She chose to stay? To accept the crown?”
“She chose me,” Kovrak corrected, the distinction important. “Her courage during the fire proved her devotion to our people. I can think of no one more worthy to stand beside me as queen.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table. Elder Lyanna leaned forward, her sharp eyes bright with approval.
“The girl has steel in her spine,” she declared. “Any woman who’ll run into burning buildings to save our children has my vote.”
The blessing came swiftly, voices rising in unanimous support that sent relief washing through Kovrak like a breaking wave. Twenty years of careful balance and diplomatic patience, and the final hurdle had fallen with surprising ease.
For one perfect moment, everything aligned exactly as it should. His mate was marked and willing. His council supported their union. His kingdom’s future stretched ahead, stable and bright.
Then the warmth beneath his skin—the steady pulse of contentment he’d been savoring—constricted into something sharp and urgent.
Fear.
Quick, tight, and unmistakable. And not his own.
The sensation slammed through the mate bond with enough force to steal his breath, Faith’s terror bleeding into his awareness like ice water in his veins. She was supposed to be safe in the palace kitchens, surrounded by guards and walls, creating her masterpiece for the final feast.
Instead, the bond screamed that something was catastrophically wrong.
“Transport. Now.” The command cracked through the air as he spun toward Thalen, his voice already hardening into the tone that sent armies into motion. “Back to the palace. Immediately.”
“What’s wrong?” Thalen was already moving, his hand instinctively checking the weapon at his side.
“Faith.” Kovrak’s pulse hammered against his throat as he reached out through the bond, pushing his thoughts toward her with desperate intensity.
Faith, what is wrong?
Silence. The telepathic connection that should have carried her voice back to him remained empty, muffled, as though something was deliberately blocking their link.