“Good morning, Pet,” he announced cheerily, his broad smile a welcome sight first thing in the morning. “The office suits you.”
I gave an embarrassed shrug. I still hadn’t gotten the courage to sit behind Alexander’s desk. Case in point: I was currently leaning against it. “Thanks. Sorry to rustle you out of bed so early.”
“Nonsense. Anything for you, Pet. I got Ranulf’s message and understand how dire the situation is. Tell me, is Alexander all right?”
I nodded. “He’s recovering. Honestly, I think he’s perfectly fine and just milking it at this point,” I chuckled.
“Probably,” Lucian laughed along with me. “But your father deserves some time off. He’s worked incredibly hard all these years.”
“Yeah … which is why I need your help getting the bastards who did this to him. They’re hiding in the forest.” I gripped the edge of the desk with such force, I could splinter wood.
“You want me to speak with Ailios?” he guessed.
“Only if you’re comfortable with it.” I sort of fibbed with the Council. I mean, the Highlanders trusted Lucian way more than they did the Council, but Lucian and the Highlanders weren’t exactly besties, either.
“I’ll do my best, Pet. Do you know who else you should speak with, since I’ll be in the forest?” he asked pointedly.
“Who?” I raised a brow.
“Ophelia. The Sisters of the Sight might be of great help,” he said, looking at me knowingly.
I bit my bottom lip. I owed Ophelia a call anyway. I was just waiting until Sunday, since I knew I’d see her at my coronation. I peeked at the guest list and saw she’d already RSVP’d. Ophelia was an oracle who knew my biological mother Adaline, who was an oracle before her untimely death. She promised to train me, but I kept postponing our lessons because my oracle abilities had been dormant lately. They typically only showed up when I was feeling extremely emotional, but I hadn’t had a vision in months, almost a year.
I was a hybrid – a cross between a wolf and an oracle – which was supposed to be impossible in the supernatural world. Because of my lineage, I was scared that I’d find out my oracle abilities were gone. My attachment to that side of my history was odd since for so long, I hoped to find a way to get rid of it. Now I didn’t want to. Go figure.
“You think Ophelia would help?”
“For you? I’m almost positive she would,” Lucian confirmed. “She asks about you often, Pet.”
His admission made me feel like shit. I was the absolute worst at keeping in touch. But it wasn’t like the old woman had a cell phone.
“Fine. Go visit the temple and see if they can assist. And …” I paused and bit my lip again. “And tell Ophelia I’ll see her on Sunday.”
Lucian winked. “As you wish, Pet.”
6
The months before my coronation seemed to zip by, but the night before my coronation felt like it passed in a blink. Just thinking about it kept me awake in the darkened room beside Bash. He spent the evening with me in the stables with my horse Shadow, trying to distract me from tomorrow’s coronation. It worked … until now, when the room was quiet and my mind was left to wander.
I quietly slipped out of bed and tiptoed out of our bedroom and into the common room of our wing. Grabbing a robe on my way out, I wrapped it around my body and slipped on a pair of fluffy slippers. Clothed as much as propriety required, I left the guest wing to roam the dark, empty castle.
The corridors were dimly lit with sconces along the walls, which made it just bright enough not to stumble, but also had the added effect of making it look eerie. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and a shiver slid down my spine.
I wandered the castle halls aimlessly until I found myself on the other side of the building standing outside the council room hallway, gazing at the portraits of past MacCoinnich Kings. Hesitantly, I reached out to touch Alexander’s painting but pulled back at the last second. There was an unspoken rule that one could look, but not touch.
I always thought he looked unbearably sad in his portrait. A young Alexander was seated on the throne in full Highland dress with his crown perched on his head, sitting erect and stiff. His gray eyes looked dead as they stared back at me. I wondered if this was my fate in the years to come.
Suddenly, I heard his voice. “What are ye doing up so late?”
I jumped nearly ten feet and clutched my chest to stop my galloping heart. “Shit!” I took a deep breath. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! When did you get here?”
“Just now,” he answered as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his blue robe. “I was heading to the kitchen for a glass of milk when I felt yer presence. Is everything okay, darling?”
I nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, just couldn’t sleep,” I mumbled.
Alexander smirked. “Yer nervous.”
I bit my lip. “Sorta.”
Alexander wrapped an arm around me and pulled me toward him in a one-armed hug. “It’s okay to be afraid, darling. I was scared too, the day I became King.”
I peered up at him uncertainly. “You were?”
“Aye. My da had just died and I had to take his place. I did nae know if I was ready, but I had no choice. I was the only one in line for the throne.”
“Why is there always only one person available to take the crown? Shouldn’t I have cousins or something?” I finally asked what had been bugging me for a while. There had to be more MacCoinnichs out there! I couldn’t be the only one left.
“There were,” he mused, “but war wiped most of us out. We’re a dying bloodline. It’s why it’s so important that ye have an heir, Mackenzie.”
I looked down at my slippered feet and gritted my teeth. The last thing I wanted was children. It was something I knew I wouldn’t budge on. No child deserved the life I had—filled with enemies lurking at every corner, being forced to watch their back because death prowled just over their shoulder. I refused to pass that on to my children.
“I don’t want—”
“I know,” he cut me off. “Just … think about it. Give it some time. Ye might change yer mind.”
I didn’t respond because I didn’t want to start an argument. I knew I wouldn’t change my mind, and I didn’t want to give Alexander false hope.
“Why do you look so sad in your portrait?” I changed the subject as I pointed to his painting trimmed in an ornate gold frame.
“Ah … That was shortly after yer mam left me. I’d just heard about her passing the day I posed for this painting. I was heartbroken. I can never pass by here without thinking of Adaline.”
“Why didn’t you just marry her?” I questioned, stepping away from his embrace.
He sighed. “It’s nae that simple, darling. Ye know how our laws are. I could nae marry outside of the Lycan, and I was already promised to Ivana. I could nae go back on my word.”
There was so much I longed to say about what he just revealed, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. There was no point criticizing the damage that had already been done.
Alexander placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him. “The past is in the past. Now ye must think about the future. And ye are the future, Mackenzie. My mistakes and burdens, those are mine to carry. Don worry about them and don worry about tomorrow. Yer going to do great. I have all the faith in the world. This is yer destiny. Ye were born for this.”
I gave an obnoxious snort. “I don’t know about all that.”
“I do. Yer going to make history. And soon it’ll be ye on this wall beside me.” He pointed to the empty space beside his portrait. “And I’ll let ye pick out the dress then,” he added with a wink.
I laughed and poked his chest. “Yeah, you better.”
Alexander pulled me in for a hug and I wrapped my arms around him. “My darling girl, if only I could protect ye for the rest of yer life, I would,” he muttered into my hair.
“I can protect myself.”
He nodded. “I know ye can. But I will alw
ays be here for ye no matter what, Mackenzie. Don forget that. And I will be by yer side tomorrow, every step of the way.”
“Thank you, Alexander … for everything,” I muttered into his chest. I pulled back and smiled, knowing how blessed I was to have his support. Without Alexander, there was no way I could survive as Queen. Having him in my corner would make this crazy ride easier.
After meandering back to my room, I fell into a fitful sleep. Sunday dawned quickly, though without incident. The guards that went missing in the forest were still missing, but Lucian managed to convince the Highlanders to help with the search and rescue mission in the forest. The Sisters of the Sight were a different story. I received word first thing in the morning that Ophelia wanted to speak with me before agreeing to anything.
I was awakened at the crack of dawn in preparation for the coronation that would occur in just a few hours. Helena bustled into our bedroom, not caring what our state of undress may or may not have been, and flung back the curtains to greet the day.
“Rise and shine, chickie!” she yelled as the early morning sun streamed into the room and straight into my face.
I groaned into my pillow. “It’s too early for all that sunlight,” I grumbled.
Bash slapped me on the ass with a loud smack. “Time to get up.”
I turned to face him and glared. “You don’t get to vote. You get to sleep in.”
He gave me a boyish grin with his eyes still closed, obviously still partially asleep. I wanted to smack him, but he looked so cute. Damnit. He suckered me.
“I hate you,” I mumbled.
“Love you too,” he whispered a split second before he started snoring. I imagined smothering him with a pillow. Before I could act on my impulse, I rolled over and sat up.
Helena was holding my robe out, ready for me to step inside. As soon as I was belted in, she started rushing around and prodding me to start moving. “Hop in the shower, hen. Wash yer hair and scrub yerself good.”
“Okay, okay.” I dragged myself to the bathroom with sluggish steps, knowing hours of painstaking torture in the form of hair and make-up stylists were waiting for me after this. I was not looking forward to sitting still for hours on end, much less to endure all that and then be dressed in that damn gown with a corset engineered to suck the air out of my lungs. These people, I swear. They thought we were living in another time.
I took a leisurely shower, spending an hour washing my hair, shaving, and scrubbing myself raw until I was squeaky clean. Instead of dressing, I slipped into my robe again. When I finally exited the bathroom with steamed mirrors and damp mist trailing after me, my hair wrapped in a towel, Helena had a pair of slippers waiting for me. The moment I slid them on, my grandmother hurried me out of the bedroom, through the common room, and out of the guest wing.
With two of the King’s guards in tow, one of them being Liam, we crossed the castle to the fitting room where my gown was being pressed and the hair and make-up team was already waiting to do battle. I sat down in the chair in front of the mirror and waited for the torture session to begin.
From the moment I woke up that morning, I was too tired to really process what was going on. I let the morning roll by without thinking or worrying—that was, until they slipped the gown over my head. My face was caked with what felt like thirty-two layers of make-up, my hair was artfully designed and wrapped around my head in a beautiful, braided crown updo atop my head, and now I was standing on the platform surrounded by mirrors, wearing only my underwear as I shivered and waited for the gown.
The gown was a deep, royal blue with gold accents. Once the corset was fastened and the skirt adjusted, it felt like I had packed on an extra thirty pounds. I didn’t know how I would possibly be able to walk down to the throne room in this get-up. Dangling sapphire jewels were placed in my ears and around my neck. It made me incredibly nervous to wear such expensive jewelry. I definitely shouldn’t be trusted, and if they knew me better, they certainly wouldn’t. I might lose an earring down the toilet or something.
There was a knock at the door, but I couldn’t even move past the layers of dress to see who it was. Instead, I sniffed the air and caught Bash’s scent. He popped his head in the door and walked around to stand in front of me, his mouth agape and he took in the sight.
“I’ve seen you dressed up before, Mackenzie, but right now,” he ran a hand through his inky hair and blew out a breath, looking at me in awe, “you look magnificent.”
I blushed and lowered my head. “It’s just a dress, Bash. Are you trying to say I don’t look good in jeans?” I teased.
He grinned. “That’s your best look, Mackenzie. Nothing beats that.”
“Good answer,” I retorted, winking. I assessed my mate standing before me in a crisp tuxedo, snug in all the right places. “You look pretty spiffy yourself. Now, are you here to escort me?”
“Yes ma’am.” He offered me his arm. “Ready to get this show on the road?”
I gave a heavy sigh. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
With Bash’s help, I stepped down from the platform and walked out of the fitting room, thanking the lunas who helped me get ready. I noticed the number of guards had increased to twice the amount that stood in front of the door when I first stepped inside. I shook my head at the precaution but appreciated the effort. They escorted us to the throne room, which Bash told me was already packed with guests. It made me even more nervous.
Each step I took toward the throne room was a step closer to the crown; the butterflies in my gut swarmed in masses that threatened to bring me to my knees.
“Breathe, Mackenzie, you’re trembling.” Bash squeezed my arm tight against him.
I swallowed a few times, my mouth as dry as a desert. “Easy for you to say, Prince Consort.”
Bash snorted. “I guess so. But I’m with you, every step of the way. You’re not alone, Mackenzie.” He sounded just like Alexander. I needed to remember I had a lot of people in my corner.
I glanced down at my gloved hands and then back up at Bash. “I feel very lonely right now.”
Bash stopped walking and spun me so we faced each other. The guards surrounding us stopped walking without a word. “From here on out, Mackenzie, you make the rules, you understand? Surround yourself with people you trust, those you can confide in. Not those old bastards who are plotting against you. If you do that, you won’t feel so alone. And you know I’ll always have your back.”
I nodded and then laughed. “All of this just makes me feel like a little kid, like I’m playing dress up. It doesn’t feel real. I also feel weak, and I don’t like that. It makes me angry.”
Bash chuckled. “The last word I would use to define you is weak. You might be a bit insecure right now, but you’re far from weak. You’re the ultimate alpha. Now let’s go show them.”
I blew out a shaky breath. “Okay, let’s do this.” Taking Bash’s arm again, we resumed our walk to the throne room, surrounded by silent guards.
When we reached the wooden doors carved with howling wolves, we stood before them and waited for the ceremony to begin. I could hear someone speaking through the heavy wood, but my blood was pumping so loudly in my ears I couldn’t make out what they were saying. My stomach churned and I felt the sudden urge to pee.
When bagpipes started playing, I startled to attention, my eyes widening as the guards shifted position and two of them moved forward to open the doors. With my first glance inside the throne room, I saw it jammed elbow to elbow, row after row of seats filled with a sea of faceless people. I was a ball of nerves. My eyes couldn’t even focus on anyone in particular.
Bash started to walk inside and I numbly walked beside him. We strolled down the aisle toward the altar that stood in front of the throne, which had never looked so intimidating with its brilliant golden frame and red cushioned seat. Which was ridiculous. It was just a chair, after all.
The moment we entered, everyone stood at attention. We walked down the center aisle with silent steps,
where Alexander was waiting for us next to a priest. I tried not to frown. I didn’t know about that part. I also didn’t realize the Lycan were religious. Was that dude really a priest?
The instant we approached the altar, the music stopped and everyone took a seat. Bash released my arm and kissed my cheek before taking his seat in the front row.
“Kneel,” Alexander commanded.
I did as I was told, which was incredibly difficult due to the weight and girth of that damn gown, but I wisely realized this was the last place to be throwing a hissy fit.
Alexander held out his hands as he addressed the room. “We are gathered here today to witness the transfer of power. I’ve had the opportunity to lead the Lycan for twenty-six years, but now it’s time for the next generation to lead us into the next chapter in our illustrious history.” Alexander looked down at me with a stern expression; there was no trace of the tender man I’d come to know in his gaze. “As the last MacCoinnich, ye now have a responsibility to our people. With the acceptance of the crown, ye promise to put the Lycan first and foremost and live by the law. Do ye accept?”
“I accept.” My voice rang out, stronger and louder than I thought it would be.
“Ye may rise.”
I stood on wobbly legs and the priest came forward holding a dark purple ribbon. Moving between me and Alexander, he told us to clasp hands and then he looped the ribbon over our right wrists, interlocking us together.
“May the transfer of power commence,” the priest announced to the room.
He placed a hand on the ribbon and began chanting in a language I didn’t recognize. I didn’t think it was Scottish Gaelic, although I could have been wrong. Suddenly, a burning sensation began to sizzle around my wrist. The louder the priest chanted, the hotter it burned. I looked up at Alexander for guidance. He nodded reassuringly, so I gritted my teeth and accepted the pain without comment.
Queen of the Lycan Page 8
