Chapter 6 - The King’s Justice
Marissa groaned, pinned beneath the splintered wood and heavy volumes of pack history, as royal guards swiftly secured her wrists with heavy iron suppressor cuffs. She spat blood onto the floor, glaring defiantly up at the towering figure of Alpha King Rowan.
Rowan didn't look at her. His eyes were fixed on Elise, who was slowly pushing herself up from the floor, clutching her bruised cheek. Without a word, the king crossed the room in two long strides, his expression a mask of cold, controlled fury. He extended a hand, and as Elise placed her trembling fingers in his, a powerful wave of warmth radiated from his touch, soothing the sting of her injury.
“Are you hurt?” Rowan asked, his voice low and dangerous.
“I’m... I’m fine, Your Majesty,” Elise whispered, her heart still pounding.
Rowan turned his gaze to Marissa, then signaled to Caleb. “Bring Alpha Marcus and Beta Grant to the main hall immediately. The game is over.”
Within minutes, the grand hall of Red Pine Pack was flooded with flickering torchlight and heavy tension. Pack members, awakened by the commotion, gathered in fearful whispers around the perimeter as Marcus and Grant were marched into the center of the room by the royal guard.
Marcus puffed out his chest, attempting to project false confidence. “Your Majesty, what is the meaning of this outrage? Detaining my lead warrior and dragging me out of my quarters in the middle of the night—!”
“Silence,” Rowan commanded, his voice vibrating with alpha authority that forced every wolf in the room to bow their heads. He stepped forward, dropping Marissa’s silver hunting dagger onto the stone table between them. Next to it, he placed the charred remnants of the rope bindings recovered from the gorge. “Your warrior Marissa was just caught attempting to finish the job her sabotage started. She confessed to cutting the northern bridge and conspiring to assassinate my bonded companion.”
Grant scoffed, stepping forward defensively. “That’s absurd! An omega’s word against our best warrior? Marissa was attacked in her quarters!”
“It is not an omega’s word,” a deep, clear voice echoed from the doorway.
The crowd parted. Stepping into the hall was an elderly wolf whom Marcus instantly recognized—Elder Thomas, one of the oldest living historians of the northern territories, whom Rowan had quietly summoned via royal courier hours earlier.
Marcus’s face drained of color.
“Twenty years ago,” Elder Thomas announced, his voice carrying clearly across the silent hall, “Alpha Marcus and his inner circle orchestrated a coup against the royal physicians of the Moonward lineage, burning their estate to steal the sacred healing catalysts and drive the survivors into hiding. They feared the Moonward bloodline because it held the true key to uniting the northern kingdoms.”
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Rowan looked directly at Marcus. “You thought you wiped them out. You thought by hiding little Elise in the omega quarters as a servant, her power would wither away, forgotten and useless.”
The entire hall stared in stunned silence at Elise. The quiet, ignored omega who cleaned their wounds and fetched their supplies was the rightful royal heir of the ancient Moonward dynasty.
