Page 18 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
I sigh. “Alright. You go meet Leon. I’ll see what Father wants.”
I make my way to the throne room, my irritation growing with each step. The massive double doors are flanked by two guards who immediately straighten when they see me approaching.
“Is he in there?” I ask, not slowing my pace.
“Yes, Your Highness,” one of them replies, quickly moving to open the doors.
The throne room is as imposing as always, with its soaring ceilings, marble columns, and stained-glass windows that cast colorful patterns across the polished floor. At the far end, KingAlaric sits on the ancient wolf throne, carved from a single piece of obsidian centuries ago. Even from this distance, I can see the tension in his shoulders.
Despite his age, my father is still an imposing figure. His silver hair is pulled back severely, and his gray eyes—so similar to my own cobalt blue ones—track my movement as I approach. While my hair is jet black like my mother’s, his has long since turned the color of steel. Age has weakened his body, but his mind remains sharp as ever. The power he wields no longer comes from physical strength but from decades of cunning and political maneuvering.
“You summoned me,” I say, stopping at the appropriate distance and offering the minimal bow required by protocol.
“Sit,” he commands, gesturing to one of the chairs positioned before the throne.
I don’t move. “I prefer to stand.”
His jaw tightens, the effort of maintaining his authoritative posture evident in the slight tremor of his hands. “I said, sit.”
“And I said, I prefer to stand.” My voice remains level, but I can feel my own temper starting to simmer. “What do you want, Father?”
King Alaric rises from the throne slowly, more carefully than he used to, his movements betraying the arthritis that plagues his joints. When he speaks, his voice still carries the weight of absolute authority, even if his body no longer can. “We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“The kind that makes me look weak in front of the packs.” His eyes flash with anger. “The female from the Silver Stone Pack never arrived at Blue Crest territory.”
I frown. “What do you mean she never arrived? The exchange was supposed to happen today.”
“According to Alpha Gareth, she ran away.” Father’s voice drips with disgust as he grips the arm of his throne for support. “Like a coward. Out of fear, he claims.”
“So, send another female from his pack. Problem solved.”
“It’s not that simple!” The King’s voice echoes through the throne room, though it lacks the booming quality it once had. “The decree specifically called for the strongest female from each pack. Not just any female—the most powerful one they had to offer.”
I feel my frown deepen. “And?”
“And Alpha Gareth claims their strongest female—this woman who ran—was their most gifted healer. The most magically powerful female in his entire pack.” Father’s hands clench into fists, the knuckles turning white with the effort. “Alpha Darius of the Blue Crest Pack is furious. He’s calling it an insult to his pack’s honor. He was promised their most valuable asset, and instead, he got nothing.”
“Then tell Alpha Gareth to find her and deliver her as promised.”
“Don’t you understand?” Father takes a step forward, leaning heavily on his walking stick that he tries to disguise as a ceremonial staff. “They’ve tried. She’s gone. And you can’t just substitute one pack member for another when we’re talking about their strongest female. The entire point of the cross-mating decree was to foster alliances through the exchange of each pack’s most powerful asset. A secondary female won’t do—it would be seen as an insult, as if they’re giving Blue Crest their scraps instead of their best.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “So, punish Gareth for failing to control his most important pack member.”
“I intend to. But first, I want that female found.” Father begins pacing, his movements slower and more deliberate than they once were. “Alpha Gareth claims she has vanishedcompletely. Run off into the Wyvern Woods, most likely dead by now. But that’s not the point, Lucian. The point is that my decree has been defied.”
A cold sensation settles in my stomach. “What are you saying?”
Father stops pacing and fixes me with a stare that could cut glass, though he needs to brace himself against a marble column to do it. “I’m saying you’re going to track down their strongest female and bring her back here. To me.”
“Absolutely not.” The words come out sharper than I intended. “I have more important things to do than chase after some scatterbrained woman who got cold feet.”
“More important than following your king’s direct orders?”
“More important than wasting my time on something that should be handled by Alpha Gareth’s own trackers.” I step closer to the old man, my own anger rising. “There are murmurs of uprising among the packs siding with Draven. Real threats to the kingdom that need to be addressed.”
“The Draven situation is under control.”
