Page 2 of A Reign of Malice
“I knew yelling at you would work,” she quips, leaning casually in the doorway. “Though I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get the chance to toss you into an ice bath.”
I brush past her with my bundle of clothes, heading for the bathroom. But Clara isn’t one to let silence linger.
“So, what’s the plan?” she presses, grabbing a brush as I strip out of my pajamas. “I’ve been scoping out King Aeson’s office. He’s usually in there until lunchtime. We could sneak in, go through his desk, maybe find?—”
“No.” My response is harsher than I intended. I pause, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Aeson has been nothing but kind and welcoming. We’re not going to invade his privacy.”
“But—”
“I said no.” My icy blue eyes tighten, cutting her off. “I appreciate the pep talk, and I know you mean well, but I won’t jeopardize this opportunity for our pack by pissing offthe one man who’s offered to save us. He’s given me no reason not to trust him.”
Clara raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by my logic. “Do you really believe that?” When I don’t answer, she continues, her tone softening but her resolve unyielding. “He’s been after you for years. He could’ve chosen any unmated female, one in a similar situation to his. Yet, he’s become almost obsessed with having you, and we have no clue why.”
I have my thoughts about thatwhy. Ones I’ve ignored because they make no sense, but I can only assume it’s the same reason for my willingness to come here.
While Aeson might not be my mate, there’s always been a connection between us. A pull of sorts that’s been present throughout all our meetings, though I’ve never understood it.
One that has me wondering now if this was always meant to be my fate.
A chosen mate. A love built out of obligation rather than passion. A partnership forged not by destiny but by necessity.
Either way, whether my decision comes from duty or my heart, I’m going to find the best path forward.
Even if not continuing to wait for my fated mate might destroy me in the process.
CHAPTER TWO
SLOANE
I’ve barely started picking at my breakfast in the formal dining room when we’re interrupted. Clara and I exchange a glance as Dasha, Aeson’s top advisor, steps into the room. She hesitates, standing across the table from us, her brown eyes downcast and her fingers fidgeting in front of her waist. Her demeanor is the complete opposite of Clara’s brash confidence.
“I apologize for interrupting, Queen Sloane,” Dasha says softly, her voice almost as fragile as the unease now coiling in my chest. “But an urgent call has come through from your castle.” She hesitates, glancing between me and Clara, before adding, “There’s an issue with your water supply. Easton is requesting to speak with you immediately.”
Clara stiffens beside me, her gaze snapping to mine. We don’t need to ask what that means. We already know because there’s only one problem there could be at this point.
The well has officially run dry.
The last thread of hope that Alcaris might revive itself has finally snapped.
The weight of that reality settles over me like asuffocating blanket, but I push back from my chair, refusing to let it pin me down. Clara rises with me, her comforting presence grounding. “Thank you for delivering the message, Dasha. I’ll return Easton’s call promptly,” I manage, my voice steadier than I feel.
Before I can take a step forward, the door bursts open, and King Aeson strides into the room with his signature flair, his dark blue eyes scanning the space until they land on me.
A sliver of warmth pools in my chest, but it isn’t attraction. It’s something softer, something that feels like a reminder—an unspoken assurance that, no matter what, I can rely on this man to help.
“I came to find you as soon as I heard,” Aeson says, closing the distance between us with purpose. He reaches for my hands, taking both in his. His touch is firm, his concern palpable. “I’m so sorry, Sloane. What do you want me to do?”
His kindness is overwhelming. Almost too eager, too generous. Unrelenting.
“I need to return the call to my pack and speak with my advisor,” I say, stepping back.
But he doesn’t let go.
“Tell them all to come here,” he insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your people can’t survive long without fresh water. I know we’ve yet to make things official, but my kingdom is open to them regardless of what happens.”
His offer sounds perfect, but doubts simmer beneath the surface. Why does he want my pack here so badly? Yet, my wolf stirs, bristling at my hesitation. She trusts him without question, her belief in his sincerity unshakable, thanks to this strange connection between us.
Still, I’m not so easily convinced.
