Mated To Rival Kings

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Raven's POV

When I stepped back into our room, the air felt different. It wasn't the comfortable, messy chatter I was used to. Sheila and Dan were sitting on their beds, and as soon as I walked in, they sat up straight, their eyes wide. They were keeping a strange, respectable distance from me, like I was something dangerous.

"Oh, stop being ridiculous," I said, tossing my shawl onto my bed. "I’m still Raven. I haven’t grown a second head."

Sheila gave me a roguish smile, but she didn't move any closer. "Well, you’ll be Queen Raven in a short while. Or Double Queen. Is that even a thing? I don't know how to act around a future Queen."

Dan just nodded in solemn agreement, looking at me like I was a high-ranking Alpha he had to impress. It was exhausting. I looked over at Diane, who was sitting quietly on the edge of her bed, her head down. She hadn't said a word.

I walked over, grabbed Diane’s wrist, and dragged her out of the room into the quiet hallway. I needed to talk to her privately.

"I’m sorry I haven't been available," I said, leaning against the wall. "Everything is moving so fast. I’ve missed spending time with you."

Diane looked up, her face pale. "It’s fine, Raven. Really. Actually... something happened. I found my mate."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. I grabbed her hands, a huge grin spreading across my face. "Really? Diane, that’s great! That’s amazing news!"

"Is it?" she whispered. Her face crumpled into a look of pure sadness.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, my heart sinking. "Who is he?"

Diane dropped her face into her palms, her voice muffled and shaking. "He’s an Alpha from the South."

I blinked. "So? What’s the problem? At least you’ll still be in the South. You won’t be too far from home."

"It's him, Raven," she whimpered. "The cruel one. The one-eyed Alpha they call Storm."

I went completely quiet. We had all heard the whispers about Alpha Storm. They called him a barbarian, a man who lived more like a rogue than a pack leader. People said his real name had been forgotten because the name 'Storm' suited his temper so much better. There were even rumors that he was related to Darian, which was supposedly why Darian hadn't called him to order for his rough ways.

I looked at Diane’s tear-streaked face and tried to be the strong one. "Well... he isn't evil per se. The elders haven't stepped in to remove him, so he must follow some laws. He probably just isn't very... kind. But you’re his mate, Diane. The bond changes men. He would be good to you."

"Do you really think so?" she whimpered, looking up at me with hopeful eyes.

"Yes," I said firmly, though I was praying I wasn't lying. "And listen, if he mistreats you even a little bit, you tell me. I’ll ask Darian to give him a massive ass-whooping. I think I have that kind of influence now."

That actually made her giggle a little. We both returned to the room and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next day, the feast was in full swing. It was the final day of the summit, and the organizers had clearly pulled out all the stops. There was food everywhere I looked—roasted meats, colorful fruits, and tables piled high with pastries. Music echoed through the courtyard, and the sound of laughter and talking was almost deafening.

I felt a little overwhelmed by the crowd, so I slipped away toward a table full of drinks. I picked up a cup and poured myself some of the dark purple juice, hoping it would calm my nerves. Just as I raised the cup to my lips, a hand materialized out of nowhere.

A large, scarred hand snatched the cup right out of my grip.

I watched in shock as the man downed the entire drink in one massive gulp. My eyes followed the movement of his powerful throat as he swallowed. I felt a sudden heat in my belly.

Dark, intense eyes clashed with mine. A smirk played on his lips. "Hello there.”

"Your majesty," I said, my voice a little breathless.

Valen let out a frustrated huff. "Enough of that already. Call me by my name."

"Yes, your... sorry," I corrected myself quickly.

Valen sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "It's okay. You'll get used to it eventually."

I reached for the jug to pour myself another cup, but Valen stepped closer, blocking my hand. "None of that."

"Why?" I asked, frowning. "I'm thirsty."

"It's strong," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "It’s fermented berry wine. One cup and you'll be dancing on the tables. Two cups and you won't remember your own name."

I felt a spark of my usual stubbornness. "I can handle one cup."

I reached for the jug again, but Valen moved faster. He stepped into my personal space, his powerful hands pressing against the table behind me. I was trapped, backed up against the wood, caged in by his massive frame. He leaned down, his face inches from mine.

"Are you really not going to listen to me, little mate?" he whispered. His eyes flickered down to my lips, and I felt my breath hitch. I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Suddenly, someone bumped into Valen—hard. It was enough to knock him off balance, forcing him to stumble sideways.

"Stop intimidating my mate," a calm voice said.

I looked over and saw Darian. He looked perfect, as usual. He was wearing another set of formal clothes that looked like they cost more than my entire pack. The amber in his eyes seemed to glow in the sunlight, looking beautiful and dangerous at the same time.

Valen’s face hardened. He straightened his shirt and glared at Darian. "Really? You could see I was having a moment. You couldn't wait your turn, hmm?"

Darian stood his ground, his expression unbothered. "No. I couldn't."

I looked at Darian, feeling a wave of relief. "Hello, your majesty."

"Raven," he said softly. He looked at me with such intensity that I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I looked down at my feet, unable to hold his gaze.

"Okay, none of that," Valen snapped, stepping back between us. "If we're all going to be standing here, we might as well go dance. I'm bored of talking."

He didn't wait for an answer. He just stalked off toward the dance floor, and Darian followed, walking beside me. We arrived at a secluded corner of the dance floor, away from the main crowd. In the swirl of moving bodies, I lost sight of Valen for a second.

Darian stopped and turned to me. He bowed gracefully, extending a hand. "May I have this dance, Raven?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. He was so formal it was almost funny. "Yes," I said, placing my hand in his.

He moved closer, his hand sliding possessively onto my waist. He held my other hand in his, and we started swaying to the music. The song was slow, low, and seductive, the kind of music that made you want to lean in. I tried to look anywhere other than Darian’s face, focusing on the buttons of his vest instead.

Suddenly, I felt a wave of heat at my back.

A heavy, solid weight pressed intimately close behind me. I didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. The scent of citrus filled my nose. Valen had come up behind me, and now I was sandwiched firmly between both Kings.