Chapter 10 - THE TRUE CROWN
The great hall of the Frostpeak Citadel had never looked so radiant.
The fires in the hearth blazed high and warm, casting a golden glow over the long banquet tables filled with food, wine, and celebrating northern lords. The war was over. The Fae curse was broken at its root, and the borders of the North were secure for generations to come.
At the head of the raised dais sat Jareth and Kaye upon their dual thrones.
Gone were the cold distance, the secret burdens, and the silent suffering of the past. Jareth sat close, one heavy arm wrapped securely around Kaye’s waist, his golden eyes filled with an adoration so fierce and absolute it left no room for shadows.
Running across the polished marble floor of the hall, laughing gleefully as he chased a silver-plated toy wolf, was a young boy with dark, unruly hair and bright, glowing golden eyes.
Jaran stopped right in front of the throne, looking up at his parents with a wide, gap-toothed grin.
“Daddy,” the boy announced proudly, holding up his toy, “Mama said you fought the ice monsters to come home.”
Jareth smiled—a rare, brilliant, completely unguarded smile that made the entire hall fall into a stunned, joyful silence. The Alpha King scooped his son up into his lap, pressing a rough kiss to the boy's dark hair.
“I did, little wolf,” Jareth murmured, his gaze lifting to meet Kaye’s eyes across the crown of their son's head. “And I would do it a thousand times over.”
Kaye leaned her head against her husband’s broad shoulder, a deep, abiding peace settling into her bones. They had lost seven years to fear, secrets, and cruel misunderstandings. They had walked through fire, ice, and magic to find each other.
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But as Jareth reached out, his hand finding hers and intertwining their fingers tightly, Kaye knew the rest of their story would be written in warmth, truth, and unending love.
The winter was finally over. They were home.
