Mated To Rival Kings

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Raven's POV

I looked around the dark, freezing forest again, my heart beating against my ribs. I tried to make sense of the landscape, but the shadows seemed to shift whenever I looked at them too closely. Then, suddenly, everything went still. It was an unnatural silence, as if even the air had stopped moving.

A steadily growing light appeared in the distance, cutting through the gloom. As the glow intensified, I saw a woman with long, silver hair walking toward me. She was talking to an older woman who shared the same striking shade of hair. My mind immediately flashed back to Alpha Storm. He had that same weird, silver hair color.

Does it mean something? I wondered, shivering despite the lack of wind. Is this a memory? Or am I watching something happening right now somewhere else?

As they drew closer, their voices became clear.

"The Kingdom needs a ruler," the first woman said, her voice sounding like the chime of a bell. "The seat has been empty for too long. It is causing a great imbalance in the realm."

The older woman sighed, her expression weary. "And what about the prophesied one?"

"They are yet to be found," the first woman replied.

By now, they were only a few feet from me. I held my breath, certain they would walk right through me like a ghost, but the first woman suddenly stopped. She tilted her head and looked up, her gaze locking onto mine. Her eyes were a bright, piercing violet, a color so beautiful and alien it stunned me into silence.

Before I could panic about being seen, her eyes flashed, and the world dissolved.

I shot up in bed, my chest heaving as I gasped for air. My nightgown was damp with sweat, and the room was silent, bathed in the grey light of early dawn.

"What in the Goddess's name was that?" I whispered into the empty room.

My life was becoming a series of puzzles I couldn't solve. Vanishing books, glowing purple streaks on Alphas, and now violet-eyed women in silver-lit forests. I desperately needed answers. I decided right then that I would talk to my mates. They were Kings, surely they had heard of these things.

It was early, barely 6:00 AM, but I couldn't go back to sleep. I dressed quickly in a comfortable dress and a cardigan, then left my room.

To my absolute surprise, Darian and Valen were seated on the floor, facing each other with about two feet of space between them. They were cross-legged, their backs straight and their eyes closed. They looked like statues.

I stood there for a moment, confused. I hadn't expected to find them together, especially not in a pose that suggested peace. Valen’s ear twitched, and he opened one eye. Seeing me, his face broke into a grin.

"Good morning, little mate!" he said heartily.

Darian didn't open his eyes, but his hand shot out with lightning speed, hitting Valen’s thigh with a loud smack. "Focus," Darian commanded.

Valen scowled, rubbing his leg. "I can’t possibly not greet Raven. That’s just rude, Darian."

"Focus," Darian repeated, his voice calm and unwavering. He finally opened his eyes and looked at me with a soft smile. "Raven, please hold on for twenty minutes. You can stay or go, but we need to finish this. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, suppressing a smile. "I'll go find some food."

I headed down to the kitchen, where the warmth of the ovens was already filling the hallway. The staff was busy preparing pastries and bread. The woman who usually called us for breakfast was there, supervising a few younger girls.

"Lady Raven!" she said, looking surprised.

"Good morning," I said. "I happen to be starving. Is there anything ready to eat yet?"

"Of course, please sit." She pointed to a high chair at a wooden breakfast bar.

A moment later, a plate of fluffy pancakes topped with honey and berries was placed in front of me, along with a glass of chilled juice. I ate heartily, the sweetness helping to clear the lingering chill from my dream. Once I finished the juice, I realized twenty minutes had likely passed. I didn't want to leave the boys out, so I grabbed another tall stack of pancakes on a fresh plate and headed back up.

When I entered the lounge, they were just standing up, stretching their limbs.

"Please, remain seated," I teased, gesturing to the floor.

I sat down on the rug, and they followed suit, sandwiching me between them. "Good morning," I said again.

Darian smiled. "Good morning, Raven."

I looked at Valen, noting the slight dark circles under his eyes. "And you? How do you feel? No hangover from the wine?"

"No," Valen said, though his stomach let out a loud growl. "But I need food. Desperately." He eyed the plate of pancakes in my hand like a wolf eyeing a rabbit.

I laughed and pushed the plate toward him. He didn't bother with a fork, he just picked one up and literally finished it in three massive bites. Darian shook his head in mock disgust but couldn't resist grabbing one for himself.

"So," I said, watching them eat. "What were you guys actually doing? I didn't know the two of you were into meditation."

Valen swallowed his mouthful. "I asked Darian for advice. I wanted to know how he keeps his cool so easily. He’s always so disgustingly composed, even when I’m trying to annoy him. I want to be better for you, Raven. I don't want to be the one who always loses his temper." He sighed, looking at Darian. "So his abhorrent advice was meditation."

Darian interjected with a small smirk. "It was a failure. I don't think his mind can ever truly be peaceful. He spent the first ten minutes trying to count how many dust motes were in the air."

Valen glared at him. "You said it might work!"

"It was nice of you to agree to help him, Darian," I said, touching Darian’s arm.

"Yeah, I didn't expect him to agree either," Valen admitted, leaning back on his elbows. "Actually, living in this mansion together, I realize he’s not as conceited as I thought. Only a little bit conceited."

Darian chuckled. "And I realize you aren't quite as unhinged as I thought. Just a little bit."

I looked between them, curious. "What made you guys so displeased with each other in the first place? I know the rulers of the North and South are usually in competition, but you two seemed to personally hate each other’s guts."

Darian leaned back, his expression turning thoughtful. "He started it. You should know by now that Valen is the troublemaker."

"No, he caused it!" Valen shouted, then lowered his voice when Darian gave him a look. "We attended a high-ranking wolves' meeting here many years ago. I was twelve. Our fathers brought us along to see how the councils worked."

"During a friendly sparring session," Darian took over the story, "someone suggested that the two heirs should spar. Our fathers agreed, wanting to see what the next generation was made of."

Valen nodded, his eyes distant. "The fight started off well. I wanted to prove myself to my father. He was always so distant, and I thought if I won, he’d finally look at me with pride. We grappled together, and we were in a tight lock, wrestling for dominance on the mats."

Valen’s face darkened. "Then Darian leaned in and whispered with that annoying, self-righteous look of his: 'Is that all you can do, you unloved child?'"

Darian let out a soft, genuine chuckle. "I can’t believe you remember my exact words."

"Why wouldn't I?" Valen snapped, though there was less heat in it now. "They hurt me deeply because they weren't far from the truth."

"What happened then?" I asked, looking at Valen.

"He slashed me," Darian said, pointing to his abdomen. "With his claws. Deep."

I gasped, looking at Valen.

"Yeah," Valen muttered, looking at his hands. "I lost it. I wanted to hurt him just as bad as he hurt my feelings. It wasn't acceptable behavior for a sparring match. Instead of gaining my father’s favor, I lost even more of it. He was humiliated by my lack of control. I've hated Darian ever since."

"And I've hated the immature Northern heir who put me in a medical bed for almost a week," Darian added.

The pancakes were all gone now, the plate empty.

I smiled, feeling a strange sense of relief. "This is interesting. I think I’m one of the only people in the world who knows the true story behind the Kings' rivalry."

They both laughed, the sound filling the room. It was a beautiful moment of connection, but it was cut short.

A strong, sudden breeze blew through the open window, chilling the room. I looked outside, and my smile faded. Ominous, charcoal-grey clouds were gathering rapidly across the horizon, blotting out the morning sun.