His Mate. His Claim. His Mistake

Lycan Queens rage

In my own mind, I was still waking up next to a dead king.

Even now, the image burns against the back of my eyelids. His glassy eyes. The unnerving stillness of his body. The thick, wet blood pooling beneath him.

“I didn’t do it,” I whisper.

No one is listening.

Theo… please. Where are you?

If he were here, none of this would be happening. He would know. He would look into my eyes and see straight through every false accusation. He would believe me.

But he was not here.

Ethan.

I desperately pray that he is going to be okay. He was severely hurt, thrown from a balcony several stories down. Another event I had no knowledge of, yet somehow I was tied to that cruelty too.

“I didn’t do it…” I breathe, my voice cracking as hot tears track through the grime on my face.

My body feels wrong. Throbbing marks ring my neck, faint, but burning when I reach up to touch them. It feels as though brutal fingers had pressed into my skin, trying to choke the life out of me.

But I have no memory of it. No memory of struggling, no memory of an attacker.

Nothing. Just sleep.

A sharp, hysterical cry shatters the room.

My head snaps toward the heavy double doors. The guards beside me straighten instantly.

Then she walks in.

She looks wrong, as though she had been torn from sleep and thrown straight into a nightmare she has not fully comprehended yet. Her dark hair falls loose around her shoulders, and her footsteps are uneven, stumbling slightly as she moves forward.

In her trembling arms, she holds a blood-soaked robe. Her fingers clutch the fabric so tightly her knuckles are white, as if it is the only anchor keeping her upright.

“Where is she?” Her voice rings out, sharp and breaking all at once. “I want to see the face of my husband’s murderer.”

The Queen.

The realization hits me like a drop into freezing water. I freeze.

And then her eyes find me.

For a second, the room stands completely still. Her expression transforms so violently it makes my chest ache with shock. The color drains from her face, leaving her pale as chalk.

"No..." she whispers, taking an involuntary step back. "It cannot be."

Her eyes search my face with a terrifying, growing horror.

"Those eyes..."

“You…” Confusion flickers through me as I cower against the wall, the rough stone biting into my back.

“You really will not leave us alone?” she whispers. “You finally came and took him.”

I stare at her, my mind frantically scrambling to make sense of her words.

“Now you have done it,” she says, her voice breaking into a sob. “You have taken Jason away from me.”

“You failed back then…” she continues, her eyes locked onto mine with something manic beneath the surface. “But now you have succeeded?”

I shrink back, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I.. I don't understand—”

She goes abruptly silent, staring straight through me. Then she blinks, drawing in a sharp breath as she reins in her composure.

The vulnerability vanishes, replaced instantly by something cold and lethal.

“Find Reginald,” she commands. Her tone drops into an icy register. “Bring the Omega Regent here.”

My heart drops into my stomach. Uncle Reginald.

“We have already sent for him, Your Majesty,” one of the zeta answers quickly from near the door. “We believe he may be her accomplice.”

They are dragging him into the trap too.

“No…” I whisper, panic rising like bile in my throat.

Her gaze snaps back to me. “He is your uncle, is he not?”

I hesitate, then give a tiny nod. How does she know?

“We suspect his direct involvement,” the zeta adds.

“Of course he is involved…” she murmurs to herself, her hands gripping the bloody robe even tighter.

"He is not!" I cry out desperately. "He knows nothing about this!"

The Queen's eyes narrow on me again. “How did you get into the royal wing?” she demands. “Why were you in that garden? Why are you in this palace at all?”

I swallow hard, my raw throat burning.

“You do not belong here,” she presses, her voice rising in volume. “You have no place here, so how—”

“I am Theo’s mate.”

The words tumble out before I can filter them.

The room falls into an absolute, suffocating silence.

“I did not sneak in to kill anyone,” I say, my voice shaking but holding fast to the only truth I possess. “On the night of the celebration… Theo found me. He marked me. He brought me here.”

She freezes completely.

The blood-stained robe slips from her numb fingers, hitting the stone floor with a heavy, muted thud.

“What did you say?” she asks, her voice dangerously soft.

She steps toward me. One step. Then another.

Before I can draw breath, her hand cracks violently across my face.

The sharp sound echoes off the stone walls.

“Your Majesty—” someone starts, stepping forward.

She does not stop.

Another strike snaps my head to the side. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. And another strike lands.

“You—” Her voice breaks with every blow, grief and fury pouring out in a frantic, unhinged assault.

Guards rush in to pull her back, but she shoves them off with terrifying Alpha strength, driving forward as if she needs to obliterate me to quiet her own agony.

“Your Majesty, please!”

Blow after blow lands against my arms and face. I cannot defend myself. My body is too weak, too exhausted from whatever had been used on me.

It takes two heavy Alpha guards to finally pin her arms and drag her backward. She thrases against them, panting heavily, her eyes wild.

I crumple to the floor in a heap, the breath knocked completely out of me.

“Where is my son?” the Queen demands suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise. “Where is Theo?!”

A heavy silence falls over the room.

“Your Majesty… we do not know,” an officer admits softly. “Prince Theo is nowhere within the palace perimeter.”

She stares at them, stunned, before letting out a hollow, bitter laugh.

“He brings an Omega into this palace…” she whispers, shaking her head, “and then he abandons us?”

No one dares answer.

“Where is Ethan?” she asks suddenly, her tone shifting into a fragile, desperate register. “Where is my baby?”

The guards hesitate, exchanging terrified glances.

Her gaze darts between them, frantic realization dawning in her eyes.

“Where is my son?” she demands louder, her voice cracking open. “Gods… how do I tell him? How do I tell my boy that his father is dead?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts into profound sorrow. In that moment, she is not a ruthless monarch. She is simply a woman whose world has just been torn apart.

“That his father is gone…” she weeps, shaking her head in denial. “How do I explain that to Ethan? How do I look at him and say those words?”

She lets out a broken laugh. “Ethan will kill me…”

She does not know. They had not told her about the fall.

“Your Majesty…” the lead officer says carefully, taking a slow step toward her. “There is… something else you must know.”

She turns her head slowly.

“The young prince…” the officer tightens his jaw. “His condition is critical.”

The words do not register at first. “I do not understand,” she snaps, irritation flashing through her grief.

“He fell... The medical team is fighting to stabilize him—”

“No,” she cuts in, shaking her head violently. “No, that is not true—”

I watch from the floor as something fundamental inside her snaps. Without another word, she spins around and rushes out of the room, her steps wild and stumbling.

The silence left behind is deafening.

Then, a sound tears through the stone corridor outside.

A howl.

Raw, feral, and drenched in a mother's agonizing grief. It presses against the stone floor and straight into my chest.

The heavy doors burst open once more.

She returns like a storm of violent fury. Her eyes glow a lethal, luminous gold. Her claws are fully extended, her Alpha aura suffocating the room.

Before I can move, she lunges.

Her hand clamps around my throat, slamming me hard against the stone wall.

“What have you done?!” she screams, her voice cracking into a terrifying growl. “Why did you do it?!”

I choke, my fingers clawing helplessly at her iron wrist.

“He is just a boy!” she weeps, shaking me violently against the stone. “He is my baby!”

“I—I didn't—” My voice is a useless whisper.

She does not hear me.

Her claws bit deep into the skin of my neck, drawing fresh blood that burns down my collarbone. Tears blur my vision.

“Your Majesty!” a guard shouts. “We need her alive for questioning!”

She ignores them completely. “First my husband…” she whispers, her grip tightening until my windpipe groans. “And now my son…”

“Why?” she demands, her voice breaking into shards. “Why did you kill my husband and destroy my child?!”

“I didn't…” I sob, struggling for air. “I swear… on my mother's grave, I didn't—”

“You will join your mother today,” she hisses softly.

Her grip shuts off my air entirely.

My lungs burn, clawing desperately for oxygen that will not come. Black spots dance across my vision as darkness encroaches at the edges.

It feels terrifyingly familiar, the crushing pressure, the helpless paralysis, life being forced out of me bit by bit.

Just like before.

Before?

My body goes limp in her grasp, my hands falling uselessly from her wrist. I cannot breathe. I cannot think.

The room tilts ninety degrees.

“She is going to kill her!”

The floor rushes up to meet me, and darkness swallows everything whole.

When I open my eyes again, the world is silent.

Cold stone presses flat against my cheek. For a long time, I lie motionless, my mind heavy and sluggish.

Then the pain hits.

My throat throbs with a dull, vicious ache. My entire body feels bruised and broken.

I push myself up slowly, wincing as muscle and bone protest.

Heavy iron bars, damp walls, and the stale smell of rust and old earth. I am entirely alone.

My trembling fingers reach up to touch my neck.

Bandages.

I begin to rock slowly back and forth on the icy floor.

“Theo…” My voice cracks, barely a breath in the dark. “Please come back…?”