The Alpha King's Rejected Mate.

Chapter 9: The Council Finds Out.

The news spread through Virek before breakfast.

Because in a castle, secrets last exactly as long as it takes one servant to whisper to another.

By the time Lyra came down for tea, every guard, maid, and cook knew 3 things:

1. The King kissed the ward in the snow.

2. The King signed 3 laws about the ward last night.

3. The King looked like he’d murder anyone who mentioned it.

Lyra felt it the moment she stepped into the dining hall.

Silence.

12 pairs of eyes snapped to her. Then to her lips. Which were still a little swollen.

Then back to the floor.

“Good morning, my lady,” the head maid curtsied so low Lyra thought she’d fall over. “Your tea. The King’s blend. He said you like it with honey.”

Lyra sat. Alone at a table made for 20.

The food was the best she’d had in years. Fresh bread. Berries. Meat. But it tasted like ash.

Because she could feel them watching.

_Is it true? Did he really kiss her?_

_Do you think he’ll make her Luna?_

_She’s a reject. Why would he—_

Lyra gripped her cup tighter. In Blackridge she was invisible. Here she was a scandal.

She was halfway through her tea when the doors slammed open.

The Council.

7 elders in gray robes. Elder Moren in front. His face was the color of milk. Behind him were Lords she didn’t know. All old. All angry.

“Where is he?” Moren barked.

Captain Rowe stepped in front of them. Hand on his sword. “The King is in training, Elder. He said no interruptions.”

“This IS an interruption,” Moren snapped. “The King signed laws at midnight without council approval. Laws concerning a rejected omega. We demand an audience.”

Lyra set her cup down. Her hands weren’t shaking. Not anymore.

“Then demand it to me,” she said.

All 7 heads turned to her.

“Excuse me?” Moren said. Like she was dirt on his shoe.

Lyra stood. The chair scraped. “You want to talk about the laws? Talk to me. I’m the ward.”

Rowe looked like he wanted to swallow his tongue.

“Girl,” Moren said, voice dripping with condescension. “This is council business. Adult business. You should return to your room before you embarrass yourself further.”

Lyra smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “The 3rd law says I go where I please, when I please. So I please to stay.”

Moren’s eye twitched. “The King was clearly not thinking clearly when—”

The doors opened again.

Kael.

He was still in training clothes. Sweat on his temples. Sword in hand. Chest rising and falling like he’d come straight from killing something.

And the moment he saw the council surrounding Lyra, his entire body went still.

Predator still.

The air in the room went cold.

“What,” he said. One word.

Moren turned, relieved. “Your Majesty. Thank the Moon Goddess. We were just explaining to the girl that council matters—”

“You were just explaining to my ward,” Kael corrected. He walked in and stopped beside Lyra. Not behind. Beside. Shoulder to shoulder. “That she doesn’t belong here.”

The temperature in the room dropped 10 degrees. Frost formed on the windows.

“With respect, Your Majesty,” Moren tried again, but his voice shook. “The laws you signed are... irregular. A ward with those freedoms? With that protection? It sends the wrong message. To Blackridge. To the other packs. They’ll think—”

“They’ll think I’m claiming her,” Kael finished for him.

Lyra’s breath caught.

Kael didn’t look at her. His eyes were locked on Moren. Silver and furious. “And they’d be right.”

Gasps. One of the younger lords dropped his scroll.

Moren paled. “Your Majesty, you cannot. She’s rejected. Damaged. The bond with Darius—”

“The bond is dead,” Kael cut him off. Flat. Final. “I checked myself. And even if it wasn’t, I’m a Lycan King. I don’t ask permission to want something.”

He turned then. Looked at Lyra. Really looked. At her. At the way she was standing tall even with 7 elders staring. At the defiance in her chin.

Pride flickered in his eyes. Hot and sudden.

“Lyra Hale is under my protection,” Kael said, loud enough for the whole hall and the servants in the kitchen to hear. “Hurt her, and you answer to me. Insult her, and you answer to me. Look at her wrong, and you answer to me.”

He paused. Let it sink in.

“And if any of you have a problem with that, you can take it up with my sword.”

Silence.

Moren opened his mouth. Closed it. Bowed stiffly. “As you command, Your Majesty.”

“Good,” Kael said. “Now get out.”

The council left. Fast. Like the hounds of hell were behind them.

The moment the doors closed, Kael’s shoulders dropped. He turned to Lyra.

“Did they scare you?”

Lyra shook her head. “No. I scared them.”

Kael barked a laugh. Sudden. Real. The first real laugh she’d heard from him. “Gods, you did.”

He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Right there. In front of 20 servants. His fingers lingered on her cheek.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lyra whispered.

“Yes I did,” Kael said. His voice was low. Only for her. “Because last night you asked to be mine. And kings don’t take back what’s theirs.”

The word _mine_ hit her like a punch.

“Come on,” Kael said. “Walk with me.”

They walked the castle walls. Snow was melting. Drips everywhere. The sky was pale.

Neither spoke for a long time.

Finally Lyra said, “The council won’t stop. They’ll go to Darius. They’ll tell him you claimed me.”

“Let them,” Kael said. “I want him to know.”

Lyra stopped walking. “Why?”

Kael turned to her. The wind pulled at his hair. “Because for 7 years he treated you like you were nothing. Like you were a problem to be solved. And I want him to know that the moment he threw you away, I picked you up. And I’m not letting go.”

Lyra’s chest hurt. In a good way.

“Kael—”

“Don’t,” he said quickly. “Don’t say thank you. Don’t say you’re grateful. I don’t want that.”

“Then what do you want?”

Kael stepped closer. “I want you to choose me. Every day. Even when it’s hard. Even when Darius comes back with flowers and apologies and the whole world telling you I’m the wrong choice.”

Lyra swallowed. “And if I do?”

“Then I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”

The wind blew between them.

Lyra reached up and put her hand on his chest. Over his heart. It was beating fast. Hard.

“I choose you,” she whispered. “Today.”

Kael closed his eyes like the words physically hurt him. “Tomorrow too?”

“Tomorrow too.”

“Good.” He pulled her into his arms. No kiss this time. Just holding. Tight. “Because I’m not very good at sharing, little ghost.”

Lyra laughed softly against his chest. “I noticed.”

That night, a raven arrived at the gates.

Black. With a silver band on its leg. It was bleeding from one wing.

Captain Rowe brought it straight to Kael. In his private study.

Lyra was there, reading by the fire.

The note inside had 3 words.

_She is mine._

_- D.V._

Kael crumpled the paper in his fist. His knuckles went white.

Then he looked up. Lyra was standing in the doorway. She’d heard Rowe read it.

Kael crossed the room in 3 steps. Pulled her to him.

“Do you believe him?” he asked. Voice low. Dangerous. Like a wolf before it bites.

Lyra looked up at him. Into those silver eyes. “No.”

“Good,” Kael said. And kissed her.

Not gentle. Not careful.

Possessive.

His hand came up to the back of her neck, holding her there. His other arm wrapped around her waist like he was afraid she’d be ripped away.

He kissed her like he was branding her. Like he was answering Darius with his mouth. Like he was telling the whole world.

_She’s mine. Back off._

When he pulled back, both of them were breathing hard.

Kael rested his forehead against hers. “Let him come,” he murmured against her lips. “Let him try to take you. He’ll learn what happens when a king finds something worth fighting for.”

Lyra nodded. Her hands fisted in his shirt.

Outside, the raven flew away into the dark.

Inside, a war had just been declared.

And the prize was her.

Two hours later, another knock.

Rowe again. Pale.

“Your Majesty. Scouts report movement at the border. Blackridge wolves. 20 of them. And at the front...”

Kael didn’t let him finish.

“Darius,” he said.

Rowe nodded. “He’s demanding an audience. Says he’s here for his mate.”

Kael looked down at Lyra.

Lyra met his eyes. And for the first time since Blackridge, she didn’t feel afraid.

“Then let him wait in the cold,” she said. “Just like he made me wait.”

Kael smiled. Slow. Dangerous. Proud.

“As my ward commands,” he said.

Then he turned to Rowe.

“Double the guards. And tell Darius this: If he wants to speak to Lyra Hale, he can get on his knees and beg. Like I would have. If I’d had the chance.”

Rowe swallowed and left.

Kael pulled Lyra close again.

“Sleep,” he said. “I’ll be right here. No one gets to you.”

And for the first time in 7 years, Lyra believed it.