The Crystal Moon Curse: Book 3: CHOSEN

36. Alpha King

FREYA

I want to look around and take my time to admire the stunning castle and grounds of the Royal pack but there is no time.

We are ushered swiftly out of the vehicles as they pull up in front of the imposing and beautiful castle, directed inside and through long wide gilded hallways by Beta Cole.

We see no one except for a few scurrying omegas who disappear behind doors as soon as they catch wind of Beta Cole.

Reaching a set of large arching double doors Beta Cole stops and addresses our group.

“Only the Alphas and Miss Highwater from here. Everyone else, waits.” He indicates a door to the left which opens and a pretty omega in a servants uniform bows.

“Please come this way. Refreshments are served.” she says politely.

Our Betas and Epsilons look unhappy but Beta Cole’s dark eyes leave no room for dispute.

Xander nods at Daryl and Alec, linking them before they follow the young Omega, the door closing resolutely behind them.

Beta Cole opens the large heavy doors and we enter an enormous high ceiling throne room.

I have to hold back an eyeroll for the grandeur and pomp. At the other end of the large room, down a long red carpet, three figures sit on large intricately carved wood thrones.

We follow Beta Cole down the carpet. The scent of power getting stronger as we get closer.

I walk between Knox and Xander, both of whom hold one of my hands each. Drawing their strength I keep my head raised trying not to gasp at my first clear sight of the Alpha King.

The word beautiful does not even begin to describe the beast. Inky black hair that shines like liquid, larger than any male I have ever seen. Even seated I can tell he is probably pushing seven feet tall. His immense size threatening to burst out of his perfectly tailored suit.

He leans back against his throne effecting casual grace, but the undertones of his aura are pure feral power.

Older than I expected, looking like he’s maybe forty, his gold eyes are pure wolf. A wolf he has so under control it’s presence is not a dual existence, but just one. He is his wolf. He is a lycan.

To his left the Queen sits, beautiful, but meek. Expressionless she sits with her palms perfectly placed on her lap. What shocks me most is the collar around her neck. An old outdated tradition that most packs did away with a century ago.

Behind me I feel Neo bristle with anger. I link her quickly.

Neo. Calm down. Don’t do anything to jeopardize this please. I plead.

The faster we do this then get out of here the better. What kind of male puts his Luna in a collar. She grumbles in response.

“The kind that is King, whose mate is a whore, and deserves nothing less than the humiliation the collar represents. Are there any other traditions you’d like to critique Alpha Highwater?” The King opens his arms.

That he can read a private mind link is a stunning revelation, one that throws me off. But Neo being Neo, takes it in stride.

“At this stage no,” she replies through gritted teeth.

The little boy seated to the King’s right, who up until now sat quietly, dark like his father, almost brooding, stands suddenly.

He looks about ten years old but he is tall, almost as tall as Neo who is the shortest adult in the room.