Ragnar’s POV
The council chamber was suffocating.
The thick scent of aged parchment and burning incense clung to the air, mixing with the lingering presence of too many old men who loved the way they talked.
I sat at the long table, arms folded, staring at the grand doors like I could will the doors open and walk the hell out of this place.
“…and as I was saying, Prince Ragnar,” Elder Marcel droned on, “the responsibilities of an Alpha King are not to be taken lightly. You have spent far too much time avoiding your duties. The time is approaching for your ascension. You must be prepared.”
Prepared.
That word again. That damn word.
As if I wasn’t born into this. As if I hadn’t spent years being groomed for the damn title I never asked for. My whole life had been spent in preparati
