Claiming The Iron Queen

He Is Coming

Ariselle’s POV

I was in the small solar with my father, going over the inventory for the southern armory. We hadn't spoken about the disastrous court meeting or Alpha Caelan since the dust from his carriage had settled on the horizon three days ago.

I liked it that way.

The door burst open without a knock. One of our lead scouts stumbled in.

"Alpha Dan," the scout managed, clutching a sealed scroll. "A rider from Nightfall. It’s... it’s Alpha Thorne."

My father stood so quickly his chair scraped harshly against the stone floor.

He snatched the letter, his fingers trembling as he broke the wax seal. I watched his eyes move across the parchment.

The color drained from his face, and he slumped back into his seat.

"Father?" I stepped toward him, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"What is it?"

"Thorne is dead," he whispered.

Alpha Thorne had been my father’s oldest ally, a man who had survived a dozen wars. To hear he was gone so suddenly felt impossible.

"His heart," my father said, staring at nothing.

"It happened last night, shortly after they arrived home."

I felt a pang of genuine sorrow. Thorne had been a kind man—far kinder than his son. I imagined Caelan standing in that dark pack house in Nightfall, now the undisputed Alpha, burdened by a crown he already wore like a weapon.

"He will need a Luna now," my father said, his voice regaining some of its strength. He looked up at me, his eyes pleading.

"More than ever, Ariselle. A pack in mourning needs a mother. They need stability. Caelan needs someone to balance the darkness this loss will bring him."

I stiffened, my sympathy for Caelan evaporating instantly.

"Do not start this again, Father."

"Ariselle, look at the timing," he pressed, standing up and walking toward me.

"The alliance was Thorne’s last wish. Caelan is alone. He is the most powerful Alpha in the territories, and he is grieving. If you honor the arrangement, you could be the one to soften him. You could lead beside him."

"I am a warrior, not a bandage for a broken man," I snapped. "I told you before he left—he is arrogant, he is possessive, and he looks at me like I am an object to be taken. I will not be his consolation prize."

"It isn't about prizes! It’s about the pack!"

"Then find him another girl!" I shouted back. "There are a hundred daughters in this pack who would swoon if he so much as looked at them. Let one of them 'soften' him. I have work to do."

I turned to leave, but the door opened again. It was the messenger from earlier, looking even more frantic.

"Alpha," the messenger said, bowing low. "Another word just arrived via the mind-link from the border patrol. Alpha Caelan is already on his way. He crossed into our lands an hour ago. He’s riding hard, and he isn't without royal company.”

My father’s eyes widened. "He’s coming here? Now?"

"He says it cannot wait," the messenger replied.

My father turned to the head of the household staff, who had appeared in the hallway.

"Make the guest wing ready. The same rooms he had before. Hurry!"

He paused, his brow furrowing as he looked at me. Then, a look of stubborn determination crossed his face.

"No," my father said loudly. "Change of plans. Prepare the chambers in the East Wing. The ones directly across from Ariselle’s suite."

My jaw dropped. "You cannot be serious."

"He is grieving, Ariselle!" my father barked, turning on me.

"He is my friend’s son, and he is coming here in a state of crisis. I will not put him in the cold guest wing like a stranger."

"The East Wing is private!" I protested, stepping into his space.

"That is my floor. I don't want to hear his boots in the hallway at night. I don't want to smell him every time I open my door. Put him back where he was!"

"You are being wicked," my father said, his voice dropping to a low, disappointed growl.

"A man loses his father, the only family he had left, and you are worried about your privacy? Have you no heart? You will be near him, you will support him, and you will show him the hospitality of the Ironcrest Pack."

"I will show him the edge of my blade if he crosses my threshold," I muttered, my blood beginning to simmer.

"You will stay in the East Wing, and you will behave!" my father commanded.

I couldn't stay in the room a second longer. I felt trapped, manipulated by a dead man’s ghost and my father’s misplaced sense of duty. I spun around and marched toward the door, my boots thudding angrily against the rug.

"I'm going to the pits," I called out over my shoulder.

"If he wants to see me, he can find me in the dirt."

I was halfway through the door when the messenger spoke again, his voice trembling as he delivered the final part of the message he had been holding back.

"Wait, Princess," the boy squeaked.

I stopped, my hand on the heavy oak frame.

"What?"

The messenger looked at my father, then at me, swallowing hard.

"Alpha Caelan... he gave a specific message for the border guards to pass up the line. He said to tell Alpha Dan that he isn't coming to negotiate anymore."

I turned my head slightly, listening.

"He said," the messenger continued, "that he is coming to take what is his. And that he is coming for Ariselle."

My heart skipped a beat, then began to thud with a heavy violence.

My wolf, Myrrh, let out a low, predatory hum in the back of my mind.

He was coming to take me?

Well, I'd like to see his arrogant ass show up and try to pick me up like a piece of furniture.

I didn't say a word. I simply tightened the belt of my tunic and walked out.

If Caelan thought a grieving heart gave him the right to claim me like a piece of land, he was about to find out exactly how much Ironcrest steel I was made of.