Chapter 5 MATE

~BERNARD'S POV~

The table didn't shake, though it should have-though every twitch in my fingers begged for it. Beneath the surface, my knuckles had gone white, buried in the folds of my cloak, nails pressing crescent moons into my palms. One wrong glance, one slip of breath, and the oak would have splintered beneath my fury. But I held on. Just barely.

Their voices droned on. Sharp. Measured. Full of knowing.

When silence fell, it didn't soothe. It pressed tighter, like the pause before a blade sinks in.

I stood.

Chin high, spine locked, I turned without bowing. The scrape of my chair on stone scraped louder in my mind than their entire discussion. Let them stew in their discontent. I had given them what they wanted-my silence.

The hallway swallowed me whole. Cold bit through the soles of my boots, licking up into my bones. I didn't feel the steps-I only heard them. A rhythm. A pattern. Left. Right. Left. Right. Each one a scream I couldn't voice.

The heat from the bonfire clung to me like a memory I didn't want. Smoke curled behind my ears, a ghost of laughter still caught in the folds of my hair. Spiced wine. Roasted venison. Music is still beating in my chest, trying to fight the cold settling in.

I tugged the cloak tighter.

Ahead, the archway spilled light and voices. Their voices. Louder now. Unfiltered.

Laughter at something ridiculous.

Mockery, maybe.

I didn't slow.

"...tsk! He's young and capable. He should find someone, or at least participate with consent in our match-making!"

I stopped short of the threshold. My jaw tightened like stone beneath my skin.

A second voice followed-measured, but still condescending. "I understand, elder. But it's also his choice to find a mate..."

And then came Elder Rurik, gravel-throated and stubborn. "He gave up on that idea a long time ago. One full year since his wolf awakened. Twenty-one years old and still no bond. At this rate, I'd push him to choose a match-an unpaired beta, even! So long as she births healthy pups. Alpha females are rare and more trouble than they're worth."

Their words sliced across my skin like a wind from the tundra.

I stepped in-silent. Not one of them noticed at first.

Elder Greya, oldest among them, leaned forward with a tired sigh. "Even his half-brother, Alpha of Frostmoon, has a fiancée now. An Alpha female, no less."

I cleared my throat, deliberately.

Silence snapped over the room like a whip.

"Is this what I was summoned for?" I asked, voice calm, too calm-like ice just before it cracks.

Elder Rurik stood. "Your Highness-"

"Spare me the title," I snapped. "Let's not pretend formality will erase the fact you were discussing my loins and lineage like I'm a prize bull."

Greya folded her hands on the table. "We only worry for the kingdom, Prince Bernard. You are the last direct heir. Our duty-"

"Is it to think for me?" I stepped closer. "To compare me to him?"

None answered. Their silence was louder than any insult.

"I understand your concern. But don't mistake my restraint for agreement." My voice dropped, heavy. "You speak of bloodlines as if I haven't already bled for this kingdom."

Rurik's brow tightened. "You were never meant to carry this weight so young."

"I wasn't," I admitted. "But fate doesn't ask permission before it strikes."

They softened-slightly. I didn't.

"You speak of mates like they grow on trees. You think I chose to live without one? You think I enjoy waking to cold sheets and a wolf screaming inside me for something I can't give him?"

No one dared speak.

My eyes rose to the mural behind them-the moon goddess, arm outstretched over the first Lycan king. My father once stood beneath that same painting, his hand steady on my shoulder. I blinked hard.

"You all think I've abandoned love. Of course I have." My voice cracked. "How do you expect a man to believe in fated bonds... when the ones who raised him turned to ash?"

Grey's lips parted. "We lost them too, Bernard."

"I know. But I didn't just lose a king and queen. I lost my parents. My brother." My throat clenched. "Even if he wasn't much of one."

They flinched. Good.

"I remember the day they died. I was too far to protect them. Too late to matter. And when I returned?" I laughed bitterly. "All I heard were whispers-about my brother's unfinished bond, about heirs, about crowns. No one asked if I was even ready to breathe again."

I looked each of them dead in the eye. "You talk of pups, omegas, alliances... as though I'm some breeding stallion. But I'm still trying to keep myself upright."

Rurik stood again, slower this time. "We only meant to help-"

"Then stop comparing me to a man who never once treated me like a brother." My voice dropped. Tired. Hollow. "Let me figure this out... on my own."

I turned to leave, but paused.

"My name is Bernard Santiago. I am not my father. I am not him. And I will not choose a mate out of fear or duty."

I held myself together until the door shut behind me. Barely.

Back in my chambers, the silence pulled memories from the walls. I sat-slowly-head in hands.

I remembered lifting their coffins onto my shoulders. Twenty years old. I'd give anything not to remember the way they smelled-cold, burnt, final.

Every time the elders opened their mouths about mates or heirs, something sharp flared inside me. Not rage. Not exactly.

Sacrifice.

Because I've pushed everything aside to keep this pack from falling apart. And no one sees it.

As a man, I've had no one to lean on. No mentor. No hand on my back when it shook. No one knows how many nights I've broken down quietly in this very room. No one knows what trauma has carved into my soul.

So yes, I've shut every door to my heart.

As a human, I don't care about mates. If I find one, I'll reject her. Without flinching. Because love is a disease-one I watched devour my father when he had that affair with the Frostmoon Alpha's daughter. I gave my life to the crown, to keep our alliances in check. One or two rejections won't kill me.

But... I'm not the only one living inside this body.

My Lycan, Marrok-my tether, my beast, my shadow-he's another story.

We get along well. But the elders? They must never know that.

"Oi, oi, oi... You're spiraling again," his voice rumbled in my head, deep and gruff.

I sighed, settling at my desk, locking the office door for the umpteenth time this week.

"You worry too much, Marrok," I muttered silently. "I don't deserve your care. I'm fine."

"You're fine with a lot of things, Bernard Santiago," he snapped. "But I'm not. I'm your Lycan. I have instincts. Needs. Find me a mate or I swear, I'll never let you sleep again."

I clicked my tongue and resumed scanning the reports.

"You're ignoring me."

I was.

"Fine. Be that way. You're just a broken little prince trying to prove you're not shattered. Your past screwed you up so bad-"

"Shut it."

"Ohhh," he drawled. "Wait... is this about the bar girl from two years ago? Don't tell me-"

My eyes widened. I slammed my pen on the desk.

"NO! What do you take me for!? She was barely out of school! I was being polite. She was a political pup, part of the alliance. I offered her company. That's all."

"Sure, sure. But I still need a mate, dumbass! I want joy in life, not just numbers and duties!"

I didn't respond.

And just after midnight, a knock echoed on the office door.

I raised a brow.

My Beta entered, rattled. Not like him.

"What is it?" I asked, already knowing the answer wouldn't be good.

"A tragedy, Your Majesty. Bruno Fangborn-Alpha of Crestmoon-and his Luna... they're dead. Car accident. The birthday party you attended today... it was their daughter's."

Marrok went eerily quiet. A strange pressure coiled in my gut.

"Poor girl," he finally murmured.

"She just turned eighteen..." I whispered. "Arrange transport. I'll attend the funeral."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

When I arrived the next morning, something strange pulled at my spine.

Then I saw her.

Or rather, her back.

Her scent hit first-honey and steel, sorrow and fire. My whole chest seized.

Marrok roared inside me, "Mate... Mate... Mate..."

I couldn't look away. She turned, eyes swollen, lips trembling.

Grief stained her face like war paint-and all I wanted was to wrap her in my arms. To hold her. To take her pain and bury it under mine.

Then I heard him.

Alpha Merlin Lupus.

Speaking to her like she was property. Planning her future without even asking her name.

And before I could think, before I could breathe-

The words left me like lightning snapping from the sky.

"You will not marry her, Alpha Merlin Lupus."

Everything stopped.

And so it began.