TAMING THE ALPHA KING

Chapter Ten: The King’s Hollow Crown

The three days following the m******e in the clearing were the quietest the kingdom had ever known. There were no bells, no cheers, and certainly no wedding. The "Alpha King" remained a beast, locked in a silver-lined cage, refusing to shift, refusing to eat, and letting out low, mournful vibrations that could be heard through the stone floors of the Citadel.

King Alaric stood before the iron bars of the High Tower, his reflection caught in the silver. He had wanted a weapon, but he had created a statue of grief. For the first time in his life, the King's shoulders slumped.

He had expected Caelum to revel in his power, to take the throne with a bloody hand and a roar of dominance. Instead, he watched his son—his only heir—stare at a single patch of moonlight on the floor as if it were the only thing left in the world.

"Shift, Caelum," Alaric commanded, but his voice lacked its usual thunder. "The border lords are asking for their King. The girl is gone. It is time to be what you were born to be."

The beast didn't even blink. It was as if the man inside had simply vacated the premises, leaving behind a husk of muscle and fur. Alaric realized, with a cold shiver of regret, that by breaking Caelum's heart to "save" his spirit, he might have extinguished the royal bloodline forever.

At my family's estate, the atmosphere was equally grim. my father, usually a man of quiet obedience, had finally found his spine. When a royal messenger arrived to summon me to the palace, my father met him at the gate with a pitchfork and a look of pure murder.

"Tell the King," my father spat, his voice trembling with a decade of suppressed rage, "that he has taken enough from my family. He has broken the Prince, and he will not have my daughter to patch the pieces back together. If he wants her, he'll have to walk over my corpse."

He barred the doors and shuttered the windows. He wouldn't even let me look toward the Citadel.

I sat down in your room, the same room where I had once dreamt of a future with a boy in a garden. I haven't washed the dried blood from my hands yet; it felt like the only piece of Caelum I had left.

my mother entered softly, carrying a basin of warm water and a clean cloth. She didn't tell me to smile. She didn't mention Lord Varick. She simply sat at my feet and began to wash my hands, her own tears dripping into the water.

"It's a heavy thing, Joy," she whispered,my mother's voice a soothing balm. "To love someone the world wants to destroy. But you must eat. You must stay strong. If you fade away, there will be no one left who remembers the boy he used to be."

"He's still there, Mother," I said, my voice raspy from screaming. "The King thinks he's a beast. My father thinks he's a monster. But I know he's just... waiting for me."

That night, the silence was broken. A secret knock at my window not from a guard, but from a servant I had once helped in the stables. he handed me a small, heavy object wrapped in velvet.

It was the silver dagger.

"The King is distracted by his regret," the servant whispered. "The guards are tired. If you're going to go, Joy... go now." the prince is waiting for you pls help him.