Chapter 7 - The True Mating Bond
Back in the grand throne room of Baldross Palace three days later, the air was entirely different.
The corrupt council elders who had backed Valora stood with their heads bowed in absolute submission. The guards stood at attention. There were no whispers, no sneers, and no protests.
Theron sat upon the obsidian throne, but as Maren walked down the long carpet carrying Tavian—who was now babbling happily and playing with a silver royal medallion—the Alpha King stood up and descended the steps to meet her.
He stopped directly in front of her.
The spiral brand on Maren’s forehead was still there, but it no longer looked like a mark of shame. In the bright morning light filtering through the stained-glass windows, it looked like a badge of survival.
“The curse is broken,” Theron said quietly, his voice carrying clearly across the silent hall. “The ancient magic feeding on our bloodline dissolved the moment Valora’s betrayal was brought to light and justice was served.”
Maren looked up at him, her heart fluttering. “What happens now?”
Theron reached out, his warm, calloused fingers gently tracing the edge of the brand on her forehead, before sliding down to cup her cheek.
“Now,” Theron said, his voice dropping into a deep, resonant rumble that vibrated through every soul in the room, “the kingdom of Baldross learns a new truth. That our strength does not come from purity of blood, but from the healing of our wounds.”
He dropped to one knee right there in front of his entire court, taking Maren’s hand in his.
“Maren of the Veorn,” Theron spoke, every word echoing off the stone walls with solemn, eternal weight. “You saved my son. You mended my broken heart. Will you stand beside me as my true queen?”
Tavian giggled, reaching out and grabbing Theron’s royal crown, placing it clumsily half-sideways on Maren’s head.
A collective cheer rose from the guards and loyal nobles, filling the palace with a warmth it had not felt in generations.
Maren smiled, tears of joy spilling over her lashes as she looked down at the king, then at the child in her arms.
May you like
“Yes,” she whispered.
And for the first time in her life, Maren knew that her power was not a curse—it was a miracle that had brought her home.
