Abyss - Book Five of the Alpha Series - MxM

Chapter 1

I was never groomed to sit upon the throne; my brothers had always been the rightful heir. I had never sat in on court in a meaningful way; I'd never been asked to the royal hunt where my merit could be tested or consulted on future advancement and sent to collect tax.

 A seat by my father's side was never on the table for me. 

I had walked hundreds of miles, fought for my people against a lycan horse, run from the undead rabid curses my father had created, battled my sister in a final act of redemption, died, and been reborn. 

Yet, nothing had prepared me for the mental weight of standing before the throne.

 I didn't believe I would make it this far, how could I when the odds were stacked so firmly against us? 

All the insecurities crept back into my mind as slivers of doubt clawed at the edges of this persona I had created. A version of myself that I had finally come to like and accept had been unearthed, and now I was expected to present it to my people and hope for their acceptance.

 Until the war, I had been solely focused on myself. Now, I would have to make decisions for an entire country.

 Since waking up, my life hadn't been the same.

The first day was a blissful state of ignorance, waking up to my slumbering warlord and drifting away into the final declaration that we were destined to be together. 

But my life as a young prince on his way to the throne would be vastly different than the one I had promised us. Yes, I would gain a kingdom, but by the church's expectation to rebuild the royal family, I must be married off to start a family and settle down. 

 Marriage, a kingdom, a commitment.

 I would be signing my life away permanently. 

How could I give up my life on the run when I had only just begun to live it?

What if I became ordinary? What if I lost my brilliance? 

To combat the anxiety, I threw myself into the development of my people and hid from my lectures. Loan, as my self-appointed advisor, was quick to bring in 'help' in the form of educated scholars who could bring me up to speed on my mannerisms and polish me so that I'd be presentable to the public. 

It was a task that disappointed many of the dignitaries. My ability to curse had displeased them, my lack of patience with insufferable dribble irritated them, and I had little desire to listen to men who had never been among my people lecturing me about what they would like me to do.

My idea of presentable was not the regally dressed, stiff chess piece for them to swivel as they wished. They wanted to change every fiber of my being, strip me down to my bare bones, and rebuild me in some divine vision. While my companions were training and preparing for the war that loomed at our doorstep, I was attending lectures on fine dining etiquette and history. 

I failed to see how a salad fork would make me more capable of ruling a country. I loathed the disregard they had for the battlefield, how they felt the need to lock me away while my men planned for the following countermeasure against Man's armies.

On crisp mornings, following the third month of my journey to coronation, I would slip out the servant's doors to the stables to ride toward the city for a chance to see anything but the stone walls of my castle.

In an attempt to reel in my wandering heart,  Loan removed the bulk of my spies, for he says a King received news as necessary from generals and appointed officials. Yet, as letters from the front lines dwindle, I begin to wonder how much of that information they were fielding from me. I desired to be with them, and if the war were looking questionable, they would struggle to keep me within my chambers.