Judgement Of The Alpha King

The Weight Of The Crown

Chapter 2:The weight of the crown

I think of my family. My home. Everything I’ve ever known. It feels far away, fragile, like it belongs to someone else. Here, in this room, in this palace, with the Alpha King watching my every move, I feel like a stranger in my own skin.

The bond tightens again. It doesn’t matter if I want it or not. It pulls me closer to him, bending me to his will before I even understand it.

And yet… there is something else. A flicker of curiosity, maybe even respect, in his eyes. Something that hints he isn’t just cruel. He is complex. A predator, yes...but also a protector, in his own terrifying way.

I lie awake, listening to his steady breathing, the way the shadows cling to him, the way his eyes gleam like molten gold in the moonlight.

I am his. And I do not know what that means.

A few nights later, the Alpha King moves in ways I am not prepared for. There is a small ritual, something ancient, to signify the bond.

He circles me slowly, measuring, silent. Every step makes my pulse spike. Then he stops, kneels slightly, and lays his hand on the back of my neck. The touch is gentle and commanding, sending a strong, intense warmth through me.”

“You belong to me,” he whispers, voice almost a growl. The gold in his eyes seems to flare brighter, molten and dangerous.

I feel the bond deepen with his words. My body reacts against my will,shivering, heart racing, skin hot. My mind screams for control, but the connection pulls me, tight and unrelenting.

“You will learn to obey,” he adds. “And survive.”

Word spreads quickly in the court.

Whispers, rumors, veiled threats. Some nobles think I am unworthy. Others fear what the Alpha King has done. One night, I overhear a conversation through the thin walls.

“They’ve made a mistake,” a voice hisses. “A wolf-less girl, untrained, unprepared. She’s a liability.”

I freeze. My stomach knots. A part of me wants to run, hide, vanish into nothingness. Another part, strange, unfamiliar feels a spark of determination. I will survive. I must.

Rhydian notices my tension without even glancing at me. He steps closer in the shadows and whispers, “No one will touch you. Not while I breathe.”

Every day, I feel the bond pull tighter. Simple closeness makes my pulse quicken. His voice, his scent, the mere brush of his hand...each stirs something in me I do not understand.

I hate it. I fear it. And I cannot resist it.

Night after night, I lie awake, listening to his breathing, trying to untangle fear from fascination. I know he watches me, always, and the thought both terrifies and enthralls me.

Tonight, the moon is full, pale and silver, spilling light across the chamber floor. I hear the soft whisper of boots. He appears in the doorway, dark, tall, and impossible to ignore.

“You’ve grown restless,” he states, eyes glinting. “Do you feel the bond tonight? It’s stronger, isn’t it?”

I swallow hard. “Yes.”

His lips curve slightly,not a smile, not cruelty,but a recognition. He steps closer. “Good. That means it is real. That means you are mine.”

The words crash over me, suffocating and intoxicating all at once. My heart pounds. My skin tingles. I know, without a doubt, that my life has shifted forever.

The shout outside the chamber splinters the air.

Metal scrapes. Boots pound stone. Voices rise, sharp and urgent, carrying the unmistakable edge of violence.

Rhydian moves before I can think.

One moment he stands near the door, the next he is in front of me, his body a solid wall of heat and power. I barely have time to stumble back before his arm sweeps out, forcing me behind him.

“Stay,” he says again, slower this time. Deadlier.

I press my hands against his back without meaning to, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His muscles tense beneath my touch, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into it, grounding himself and me.

The door slams open.

Three wolves rush in, faces hard, eyes sharp with challenge. Not guards. I know that instantly. These men wear no palace badge, no formal armor. Their stances are loose, confident. Predatory.

Rogues.

One of them sneers when he sees me peeking out from behind Rhydian’s shoulder.

“So it’s true,” he says. “The Alpha King chooses a wolf-less girl.”

The room goes deathly quiet.

I feel the growl before I hear it. It vibrates through Rhydian’s chest, low and furious, echoing straight into my bones. The bond flares in response, a hot, aching pull that makes my breath hitch.

“You have ten seconds to leave my chambers,” Rhydian says calmly. Too calmly. “Or you will not leave here alive.”

The rogue laughs. A sharp, ugly sound. “You think we’re afraid of you just because you wear a crown?”

Rhydian turns his head slightly, just enough for me to see the edge of his profile. His eyes glow brighter now, gold burning molten.

“No,” he says. “You’re afraid because you know what I am.”

The attack comes fast.

Steel flashes. One of the rogues lunges, blade aimed high. Rhydian moves like shadow and lightning, sidestepping, striking. I barely see it,just the blur of motion, the sound of impact, a cry cut short.

The second rogue doesn’t hesitate. He shifts mid-stride, bones cracking, fur tearing through skin. The air fills with the sharp scent of wolf and blood.

I gasp.

Rhydian shoves me back with one hand.

“Do not move.”

I don’t.

I can’t.

The fight is brutal and swift. Rhydian doesn’t roar or grandstand. He ends it efficiently, mercilessly. When the last body hits the floor, the chamber is silent except for my ragged breathing.

Blood darkens the stone.

Rhydian stands over them, chest rising slowly, eyes still glowing. He looks less like a man now and more like something ancient, something carved from dominance and war.

Then he turns to me.

The glow fades.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

The question catches me off guard.

“N..no,” I manage. “I don’t think so.”

He steps closer, scanning me like he expects to find wounds hidden beneath my skin. When he’s satisfied, his shoulders relax slightly.

“They were testing,” he says. “Seeing how far they could go.”

“Because of me?” I whisper.

“Yes.”

The word lands heavy between us

Guards rush in moments later, hauling the bodies away, bowing low, murmuring apologies. Rhydian dismisses them with a gesture. When we are alone again, the room feels smaller,Warmer.

Danger still clings to the air.

“You should not have to face this,” I say quietly.

His gaze sharpens. “You are my mate. You will face what I face.”

I swallow. “Even if it kills me?”

He steps closer until I have to tilt my head back to look at him. His hand lifts, fingers brushing my jaw, forcing my eyes up.

“It will not,” he says. “I will not allow it.”

There is no arrogance in his tone. Only certainty.

I don’t know why that scares me more.

The court reacts quickly.

By morning, whispers follow me through every corridor. Servants fall silent when I pass. Nobles stare too long, their eyes sharp with judgment or fear.

Some bow. Others don’t.

I learn quickly who respects the crown and who resents it.

Rhydian does not leave my side.

At meals, he sits beside me, close enough that my knee brushes his thigh. During council meetings, he keeps me behind him, his presence a constant reminder to everyone in the room.

This is not protection.

This is possession.

And yet… when a noblewoman spits venom under my breath as I pass, it is Rhydian who stops, turns, and silences her with a single look.

When I wake up shaking from dreams of claws and blood, it is his steady breathing that anchors me back to reality.

I hate how much I rely on it.

“You’re changing,” I tell him one night as we stand at the window, moonlight spilling across the floor.

His brow lifts slightly. “Am I?”

“The court fears you more,” I say.

“Because of me.”

“They feared me long before you,” he replies.

“That’s not what I mean.”

He studies me for a moment, then nods.

“They see weakness.”

I flinch. “I am not..”

“You misunderstand,” he cuts in. “They think you are weakness. That makes you dangerous.”

“How?”

“Because anything that can be used against me will be.”

The bond pulses, heavy and warm.

“And what are you to them?” I ask.

His gaze darkens. “A reminder that I am willing to burn the world for what is mine.”

The words send a shiver through me.