The court
1965 Words
Kael
There are many things I have destroyed in my life.
Enemy packs.
Traitors.
Cities.
Hope.
But nothing has ever unsettled me the way one stubborn woman does simply by standing in my hall and refusing to bow.
The court is packed today.
Whispers coil through the stone pillars like smoke. Every warrior, every council elder, every ambitious snake in silk is here because news spreads quickly in my territory.
Riven’s brother has arrived.
I sit on my throne carved from blackened oak and bone, elbow resting against the armrest, chin balanced against my knuckles.
I look bored.
I am not bored.
The doors to the great hall open.
He walks in as though he owns something.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Eyes too calculating for a man whose pack was nearly wiped out three months ago. He wears neutral colors—a coward’s attempt at diplomacy.
Behind him are only two guards.
Smart. He knows coming with more would be seen as a threat.
Riven stands at the base of the throne platform to my right. Not behind me.
Beside me.
She insisted on that weeks ago.
“I will not stand behind you like a prize,” she told me quietly in my chambers.
I had almost smiled.
She does not bow when her brother stops a few feet away.
He doesn’t look at her at first.
He looks at me.
“Alpha Kael,” he says smoothly, bowing low. “Thank you for granting this audience.”
“I didn’t,” I reply lazily. “You forced my gates.”
A murmur ripples through the court.
He smiles thinly. “Forgive the urgency.”
Now his gaze shifts.
To her.
And something sharp passes between them.
Not affection.
Not relief.
Pity.
History.
“You look well,” he says to her.
Riven’s jaw tightens. “You don’t.”
Ah.
Good.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she adds.
He laughs softly. “You don’t get to decide that anymore.”
My fingers tighten slightly against the armrest.
I say nothing.
He finally gets to the point.
“I came to settle something,” he says, addressing me again. “Your warriors have been circling our borders. We both know why.”
Because I want leverage.
Because I want to see if she flinches.
Because part of me wants to burn everything she once belonged to just to see if she would choose them over me.
“And?” I ask.
He straightens.
“She is no longer our concern.”
The hall goes silent.
Riven’s head snaps toward him.
“What?” she breathes.
He doesn’t look at her.
“She abandoned our pack years ago for Darian. She forfeited her blood ties when she left. When she returned, it was only because she had nowhere else to go.”
The words are deliberate.
Cruel.
Designed to cut.
I watch her face.
There it is.
The smallest crack.
But she doesn’t deny it.
Interesting.
Her brother continues.
“We have rebuilt what we could. We cannot afford another war because of her history with you. So I’m here to offer something simple.”
He finally turns to her.
Cold.
“You may keep her.”
The court erupts in whispers.
My wolf rises inside me, not in rage—
But in something darker.
Riven goes still.
Like she’s been struck but refuses to fall.
“I am not livestock,” she says quietly.
Her brother ignores her.
“She has no claim to our lands. No inheritance. No protection. Whatever she is to you now, she is yours entirely.”
Entirely.
The word echoes.
A strange heat spreads through my chest.
I stand slowly.
The hall quiets instantly.
I descend the steps of the platform one at a time.
Measured.
Controlled.
I stop in front of him.
“You’re selling your sister to avoid my wrath?” I ask softly.
His jaw tightens. “I’m preventing unnecessary bloodshed.”
“You think I would attack your pack because of her?”
His silence answers me.
Riven lets out a humorless laugh.
“So that’s it,” she says. “You came to save yourselves.”
He finally looks at her fully.
“You made your choices.”
“And you made yours,” she fires back. “You hid behind me every time war came to our borders.”
A few warriors in my court exchange glances.
Oh.
So she was their shield.
I tilt my head slightly.
“Is that true?” I ask her brother.
His eyes flash. “She was… capable.”
Capable.
Not cherished.
Not valued.
Used.
Something ugly coils in my stomach.
He continues quickly, “But she made it clear where her loyalties lay. With Darian. Not us.”
The name is dropped like poison.
I watch Riven carefully.
Her expression doesn’t crumble.
But her shoulders stiffen.
There’s pain there.
Old. Deep. Unresolved.
And suddenly I understand something.
She didn’t just leave her pack.
She left everything for a man.
And he died.
Or disappeared.
And she returned to a family that resented her.
My wolf paces.
Claim her.
Protect her.
I ignore it.
Instead, I step closer to her brother.
“So you’re telling me,” I say quietly, “that she has no home.”
He hesitates.
“Yes.”
Riven lifts her chin.
“I never asked to return.”
There’s pride in that.
Even now.
Even betrayed publicly.
I look between them.
Then I laugh.
Low.
Dangerous.
“You misunderstand me.”
Her brother frowns.
“I was never going to attack your pack because of her.”
Relief flickers across his face.
“For now,” I add.
It vanishes.
“I don’t destroy territories for petty revenge.”
I lean closer.
“I destroy them when they give me reason.”
His pulse jumps in his throat.
“You came here,” I continue, voice dropping, “to discard something you should have protected.”
I step back.
“And you expect me to thank you for the convenience?”
He swallows.
“She’s a liability.”
Riven goes still again.
I turn my head slowly toward him.
“A liability?” I repeat softly.
“Yes.”
Something snaps.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
Just enough.
I move before the court registers it.
My hand wraps around his throat.
I lift him slightly off the ground.
Gasps echo through the hall.
His guards reach for their weapons.
Every warrior in my court does the same.
Riven steps forward sharply.
“Kael.”
Not a plea.
A warning.
My eyes stay locked on her brother.
“You came into my hall,” I say quietly, “to insult someone who stands beside my throne.”
His face reddens.
“She is nothing to you—”
My grip tightens.
“She is under my protection.”
The words leave my mouth before I consider them.
The hall goes dead silent.
Even Riven freezes.
Under my protection.
Not possession.
Not ownership.
Protection.
I release him abruptly.
He stumbles back, coughing.
“You will leave,” I say calmly. “And you will remember this.”
He glares.
“She chose another male over you once. Don’t forget that.”
Ah.
There it is.
The twist of the knife.
The court shifts uncomfortably.
Riven’s face drains slightly.
I step forward again.
Slow.
Predatory.
“You think I don’t know that?” I ask quietly.
He falters.
“I know exactly who she chose.”
I turn my head slightly, looking at Riven.
“For love,” I add.
Her eyes flick to mine.
Confused.
He scoffs. “Love? He used her. Everyone knows it.”
The air changes.
Riven’s breath stutters almost imperceptibly.
I notice.
Of course I do.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
He hesitates.
Then shrugs.
“Darian wasn’t strong enough to lead. He leaned on her influence. Her strategies. Her connections.
When he ‘died,’ half our allies abandoned us because they were loyal to her, not him.”
The implication hangs there.
Riven doesn’t speak.
But something inside her is cracking.
“You’re lying,” she says, but it’s quieter now.
He looks at her.
“For once, I’m not.”
Silence.
Heavy.
I study her face.
The realization creeping in.
The doubt.
The old wounds reopening.
And I feel something I haven’t felt in years.
Not rage.
Not dominance.
But a deep, unsettling need to stand between her and that pain.
Her brother straightens his clothes.
“We’re done here.”
He bows stiffly.
Then he leaves.
The doors slam shut behind him.
The court remains silent.
Watching.
Waiting.
Riven stands perfectly still.
Then she laughs softly.
It’s not a happy sound.
“I suppose that settles it,” she murmurs.
I step closer.
“What does it settle?”
She doesn’t look at me.
“That I was a fool.”
The words are soft.
Raw.
I don’t like them.
“You were loyal,” I correct.
She shakes her head.
“No. I was blind.”
Her eyes finally meet mine.
And for the first time since I’ve known her—
They aren’t defiant.
They aren’t angry.
They’re hurt.
And it does something violent to my insides.
“You are not a liability,” I say quietly.
She gives me a faint smile.
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“It is,” I reply.
“Why?”
The question is genuine.
Dangerous.
Why indeed.
Because you stand your ground.
Because you fight when others run.
Because you walked into my territory and refused to break.
Because you calm the storm in me without trying.
But I don’t say any of that.
Instead I say, “Because you are useful.”
The wall goes back up instantly.
Good.
Safer.
She nods once.
“Of course.”
She turns to leave.
And something inside me refuses to let her walk away like that.
“Riven.”
She pauses.
“There is no one coming for you,” I say evenly.
Her shoulders stiffen.
“I know.”
“Then stay.”
The word slips out.
Not command.
Not order.
An invitation.
The court inhales sharply.
Her back is still to me.
“And be what?” she asks softly.
I step closer.
Close enough to feel the heat of her body.
“Mine.”
The word is low.
Rough.
Possessive.
The hall erupts into whispers again.
But she doesn’t move.
Doesn’t turn.
“And if I refuse?” she asks.
My wolf bares its teeth.
But I answer calmly.
“Then I will still protect you.”
Silence.
She slowly turns.
Her eyes search mine.
Looking for something.
Weakness.
Truth.
Madness.
She steps closer.
So close our breaths mingle.
“You don’t even like women,” she says quietly.
A faint smirk touches my mouth.
“I don’t like weakness.”
Her gaze flickers.
“And what am I?”
I lean down slightly.
Close enough that only she can hear me.
“A problem.”
Her breath catches.
And then—
A guard bursts through the doors.
“Alpha!”
The tension shatters.
I turn sharply.
“What.”
He kneels.
“There’s movement on the southern ridge. A banner was spotted.”
My blood runs cold.
“What banner.”
He swallows.
“The crest of Darian’s pack.”
The world tilts.
The court erupts.
Riven goes completely still beside me.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
I turn my head toward her.
Her face has gone pale.
Hope.
Fear.
Disbelief.
All at once.
And in that moment I realize something terrifying.
If he is alive—
If he has come back—
I don’t know if I will kill him.
Or burn the entire world.
- Writer
