Royal Alpha

by Riley Storm

  The guard shuddered and looked like he was going to be sick. His mouth moved and Logan thought he heard some sounds, but he couldn’t make out any words, if there had been any.

  “Pardon?” Logan asked, letting his face blossom with a very fake-looking smile that promised he was unimpressed with the guard.

  “Um, I can’t open the door. The, uh, um, the King is in session.”

  Logan’s glance flew upward. Then he looked at Heather. “I don’t think I’m in session. Not yet. Am I in session?”

  “No, not that I can see. I know you want to be, but you aren’t yet. You just got back. That would be impossible.”

  Logan nodded. “Exactly.” He turned his gaze on the soldier who was visibly shaking, unhappy with what he was being forced to do. Anger burned away the pain he was feeling, and he straightened, no longer needing Heather’s support.

  “Are you telling me,” he asked in a dangerously cold voice. “That there is someone in there? Someone sitting on the throne, calling themselves the King of House Canis? Am I hearing that right?”

  The guard wilted but he nodded. “Yes,” he said weakly.

  “Do you support them?” Logan growled.

  The guard firmed up, still unhappy about it. “I support the throne. Sir,” he added respectfully, his eyes finally flicking over to bore into Logan’s. “I have sworn an oath to it.”

  To the throne. Not to Logan, not to whoever was sitting upon it. But to the office of the King. He understood the unease of all the guards now. They knew it was wrong but the entire situation was in flux, because technically, Logan wasn’t officially the King. Not yet.

  Logan nodded grimly. “Good answer,” he said, his voice growing deeper. “Now get the hell out of my way.”

  The guard slammed his back against the wall as Logan walked forward ignoring the pain in his gut. With a mighty shove of both arms, he flung the doors open, most curious to see who had decided to take advantage of his absence.

  Inside, he was greeted with a vision of Leonen swathed in robes atop the throne, looking down his nose at Logan in what he must figure was a smug version of regality.

  “I’m going to kill him,” he whispered to Heather, and walked inside.

  She matched him step for step, never faltering.

  37

  “Get your smug, weak-spined, granny-robe-wearing ass off my throne or I swear to the gods that I will rip you apart limb from limb!” Logan roared as he stormed the Throne Room.

  Heather didn’t bother to suppress her grin, instead baring her teeth, letting Leonen and everyone else in the room know precisely where she stood. At Logan’s side, where she belonged. Where she should have been all along.

  “No.”

  Her grin faltered as shock threatened to replace it.

  “So, you do have a spine,” Logan commented, not missing a beat. “Could have fooled me.”

  “Welcome home, Logan,” Leonen said from where he sat all alone.

  Heather laughed. Behind her, the other members of the Council, the legitimate ones, fanned out. Lucien, Linden, Jennifer. They were all here, all arrayed against this idiot who would be King.

  “My mate,” Leonen went on, gesturing to her. “My lovely mate. Please, do join me up here,” he said, patting the chair for the Queen of House Canis in a manner so condescending, she nearly went up there just to be able to strangle him herself.

  “If you do don’t it, I will,” she said out of the corner of clenched teeth, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother in the audience, frantically urging her with her eyes and calm hand movements to take Leonen up on his offer to sit upon the throne.

  “You are to be the Queen of this great House,” Leonen said, gesturing at her once more.

  Heather was at a crossroads, she realized. A decision had to be made here. One made by her, and only her. If she chose to follow Leonen, she would retain her mother’s protection. Her debt to her family would be repaid.

  And I would be absolutely miserable and the House would be worse off because of it. Not only do I want to stay with Logan, but I cannot see any way in which leaving him would benefit House Canis.

  “No,” she said, purposefully not looking at her mother. As much as she may know this was the right decision, defying her mother was as unnerving as it got. Heather wasn’t quite ready to see the look of pure anger she was sure was being directed her way even now.

  “No?” Leonen repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it.

  “No,” she said with emphasis, turning it into a snarl. “My place is with Logan. With the man I love. Not with some wannabe usurper too chickenshit to fight for his House.”

  This time, she saw Miriam sigh and shake her head in disappointment. It stung to know she’d disappointed her mother, but that really didn’t matter. Not anymore. There was something else, someone else, who mattered a whole lot more.

  At her side, she’d felt Logan jerk at her words. She hadn’t planned to say that to everyone before she said it to him, but it had felt right. Now he was staring at her open-mouthed, the moron on the throne completely ignored—for the moment.

  “What?” she asked, trying to play it off lightly. “Do you want me to go up there with you or not?”

  Logan licked his lips. “Did you just say you loved me?”

  She didn’t hesitate in her reply. “Yeah, I did. I do. Whatever. You know that.”

  “I’d hoped,” he countered. “But I never knew for sure.”

  Heather smiled. “Surprise? It’s just me and you. As it should always have been.”

  Logan winced. “If I wasn’t so stupid.”

  “Even old dogs can learn new tricks,” she teased. “You got it right eventually, and I figured out that I don’t need to do what other people tell me. Not anymore,” she added with a look of gratitude toward Jennifer over her shoulder.

  The Mage just winked.

  “Well, I love you too,” Logan said, speaking loud enough for everyone assembled to hear.

  There were mostly sounds of approval, though enough members of the House were supporters of her mother or Leonen that it wasn’t unanimous.

  Who gives a shit? I’m doing something for me. For the first time in my life, I’m putting myself first. Screw all of them.

  Heather stood straighter, feeling proud and more than a little defiant as she stared up at the figure sitting on the throne.

  “Get up here,” Leonen snarled. “You are to be my mate.”

  “Go sit on a broken pool cue, you cretin,” she shot back. “I’ve made my choice, and it most definitely is not you.” She leaned closer to Logan for emphasis, even placing a very tender kiss on his cheek.

  “Show off,” Logan muttered under his breath. Then he levelled a finger at Leonen. “Move. Or I will make you.”

  Leonen snapped his fingers. “Guards. Arrest this man.”

  None of the guards moved a step.

  “I guess you’re going to have to do it yourself,” Logan taunted. “Time to show them what kind of King you can be.”

  Leonen snarled and launched himself from the throne, divesting himself of his robes as he fell.

  Heather longed to go after him herself but she’d already done her part. So, she stepped aside, watching Logan stand stiffly upright, still treating his stomach gingerly.

  “Kick his ass,” she ordered.

  “With pleasure,” Logan replied and darted forward.

  38

  “You know,” he said, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear while ducking under Leonen’s wild swing, his stomach howling in protest. “This is the second time today I’ve fought someone pretending to be the King of our great House. The second time I’ve fought someone today who doesn’t understand putting the House first, who only wants the throne for their own reasons.”

  Leonen surprised him by kicking backward as he passed, forcing Logan to roll to the side. The boot still connected with his shoulder, turning his graceful roll int
o a tumble, but besides a mild sting, no damage was done.

  “And I have to tell you,” he continued, getting to his feet, beckoning Leonen to try again. “I’m getting really sick of it. Not sick of winning, mind you, but of assholes like you tainting the throne. Of caring more about an individual than a group.”

  He waited for Leonen to come close then danced in unexpectedly, connecting with a hard left jab to the chin that rocked the usurper backward.

  “I thought I was putting the House first by agreeing to bless that sham of an arranged mating between you and Heather.” He ducked under a punch and slammed his right fist into Leonen’s ribs, then whirled away before the counterpunch came.

  “But I was wrong. So very wrong. Because I wasn’t helping the House by doing that. I was helping you. And her,” he added, jerking a thumb in the direction of Miriam. “I was aiding the two of you in your attempts to assume more power.”

  Leonen was furious now, spittle flying from his mouth as he came on with a flurry of blows. The coordination of his attacks surprised Logan somewhat; he hadn’t thought the man a skilled fighter.

  Then again, none of our fights has lasted this long.

  “I should have seen that neither of you was invested in the rest of House Canis. Just in accruing more power, more wealth, for yourselves, when you would then lord it over the others, using it to gather even more power and wealth, etcetera.” He shook his head. “And that is just not who we can afford to be anymore.”

  He blocked a punch, blowing the arm out to the side, then grabbing it, twisting and flinging Leonen over his shoulder. Freshly-healed skin tore across his stomach and he felt warm wetness begin to drip down once again.

  “So, I am done catering to the two of you,” he announced. “I do not want to be King, but I have been appointed to that position. In two days from now, a coronation ceremony will take place to make it official, so this kind of nonsense can finally be put to rest.”

  Leonen got to his feet. “I am King!”

  “No, you are a fraud,” Logan announced. “Anyone who wants the position should never be granted it. It is obvious you are nothing but a power monger whose lack of sense of self-worth impels you to do whatever it takes to make others bow to you, so that you feel worthy of… something.”

  The other man abandoned all sense of discipline and came flying at Logan in a hail of blows. The sheer fury and lack of coordination actually made it harder for him to defend against, because he had no idea what the other man would do next. It drove Logan back several steps.

  “I may not wish to sit there,” Logan said as he hurled Leonen back with a mighty shove, his stomach weakening some more as he tore it open wider. “But I swear I will do my best to ensure House Canis is returned to a position of prominence. That we begin to see ourselves as one, and that instead of fighting one another for wealth, we will go out there and earn it!”

  The crowd roared its response. He glanced around, noting minor pockets of discontent, but a large majority was clearly on his side about it.

  Leonen came at him again.

  “This is over,” Logan spat. He knocked aside one blow, then another, flinging Leonen’s arms out wide to either side, leaving him vulnerable.

  Crack!

  He drove his fist into Leonen’s face.

  “’by ‘ose!” he screamed, clutching at his face, nose bent at an awkward angle. “’o boke by ‘ose!”

  “Again,” Logan confirmed. He gestured at the guards. “Toss him in a cell. Keep him fed and in acceptable condition, but I don’t want to hear his name.”

  The guards swarmed forward. Their faces were blank, but their actions spoke of unrestrained glee as they hauled a wailing Leonen off to a prison cell.

  Logan put one hand to his stomach. Looking around, he saw the crowd all staring at him expectantly.

  “Oh fine,” he muttered, and ascended the stairs. “I’ll sit in the silly chair.”

  Around him his Council came, taking their seats. Things were back to normal now. A new normal, with the elimination of the Tyrant King and—

  Logan’s thoughts stopped him in his tracks as he realized something was amiss. Turning his head, he stared at the empty seat to his right. Then he looked out at the crowd, picking out one figure in particular.

  “What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

  “What do you mean? Is something wrong?” Heather replied.

  “Of course, something is wrong. You’re supposed to be here,” he said, stabbing a finger at the chair. “Not there.” He pointed at her.

  Heather suddenly looked uncomfortable as the reality of what he was saying sunk in.

  “I don’t know.”

  Logan sighed, then addressed the crowd. “By the volume of noise, do you think she should come up here?”

  The room shook with the thunderous cheers of the members of House Canis.

  Heather blushed bright red from her forehead right down her neck, the reddened skin disappearing under her shirt.

  “Please, take your seat,” Logan said as the crowd died off. “My Queen.”

  The room trembled again as the crowd erupted in roars once more as Heather, still looking uncomfortable, ascended the throne and took a seat to his right, taking his hand.

  “Do you know what you’re signing up for?” she asked quietly.

  “I think so,” he said. “But if I miss something, I’m sure you will fill me in on it.”

  Heather snorted. “You know I will.”

  “Good,” Logan said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’m counting on it. On you.”

  He grinned as she swallowed awkwardly.

  This felt good. It felt right.

  39

  Heather was waiting for it. From the instant she’d accepted Logan’s hand as his Queen, his mate, his love, and most importantly, his partner, she’d known it would only be a matter of time.

  It came while she was packing her things, preparing to leave her quarters—and her mother—for good.

  “You had me going there for a minute.”

  Scowling at her half-packed bag, Heather counted to five before responding, giving herself enough time to ensure her reply was level and not immediately acerbic. This was, after all, Miriam she was talking to. Some tact would be necessary.

  “I did not intend, or try, to fool anyone with my actions,” she said lightly.

  Miriam came into her room and sat on the bed, her eyes briefly roaming over the clothing in various stages of being packed. “I have to give you credit. You saw something I did not.”

  “Thank you,” Heather said. “Though I’m not quite sure to what you’re referring.”

  “Why, the King of course. You saw that Leonen did not have what it took, and that you would be better served to help the interests of the House and your family by choosing Logan. Now look at you, Queen of House Canis. I’ve taught you well, daughter. You’ve done better than I ever expected.” Miriam was practically gloating and it filled Heather with a sick disappointment.

  “Mother,” she said, finally looking up, turning her hardest glare on the woman who had raised her and who claimed that she owed her. “I did not do this for my family. I did this for the House because Leonen is a fool who would repeat many of the Tyrant King’s mistakes. Logan is a good ruler.”

  “Of course, he is,” Miriam agreed soothingly. “Of course, he is. I never said he wasn’t. But with you at his side, we’ll be able to ensure the House is properly looked after.”

  Heather snapped. “There is no you and I, Mother. The only we, is Logan and I. We are the rulers of House Canis, its King and Queen. You are not. Do you not get that yet? I didn’t join with him for you. I did it because I love him. I genuinely love him. I’m not going to let you manipulate me any longer.”

  Miriam’s friendly façade disappeared in a heartbeat. “You think just because you’re the Queen now, that people will stop targeting you for what lives inside you? You’re still a threat, child. And until that time, you need my protectio
n. The King can’t afford to fight your battles for you as well. You’re vulnerable. Show more respect to those who have your back.”

  Heather rolled her eyes, slamming clothes into the suitcase as fast as she could, all semblance of order forgotten. Her only desire was to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

  “Do you truly think I’m blind, Miriam?” she snarled, matching her mother tone for tone. “You only have my back so you can use the knives in it to aim me where you wish. Well, no more. I don’t need your protection, and I don’t need Logan’s protection. I am no longer a threat to anyone. You can’t hold the Loup-Garou virus over my head anymore. It’s over. Finished.”

  “You aren’t thirty-one yet,” Miriam hissed. “Until then, you can still change.”

  Heather leaned back, letting herself gloat, knowing she had knowledge Miriam didn’t. “Are you sure about that?” she challenged smugly. “Are you completely positive? Things aren’t different now?”

  She shoved clothes in her other suitcase, grabbed them both up, and headed for the door. “Your kind is going extinct, Miriam. The politicians who only want power for the sake of power are no longer welcome in House Canis. I challenge you to show how strong you are by adapting to this new reality. Because if you don’t, you’re going to find it a long, lonely road when you get exiled from the Manor for your ways.”

  With that last parting shot, she strode for the door, weight falling behind her as she went, until Heather’s shoulders rode straight and proud. It was time she wrote her own life, doing her best to leave an imprint on House Canis that would help propel it into a better, brighter future.

  One where she made her own choices, wrote her own decisions.

  And one where I get to snuggle that hunky ball of hotness every morning.

  She walked out of her old quarters and her old life with a huge grin upon her face.

  Not once did she look back.

  40

  “C’mon, doc, I need to go,” Heather said, getting antsy.

  “Hush. They’ve already delayed the ceremony twice now. They’ll wait on you,” Jennifer said, drawing the necessary blood she needed from Heather’s arm.