Chapter 20.
The second Richard stepped into the hallway, all the fear left my body.
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Which was ridiculous, honestly. Jason still had a knife. I was still wolfless. There were still at least six different ways this could all go horribly wrong. But that’s what it felt like–fear evaporating, replaced by something steadier, heavier.
Relief.
Richard had been distant lately. Busy, I told myself. Caught up in work, in strategy meetings, in kingdom–wide crisis control. And then I saw him with her–the woman from the restaurant. The one who fit so neatly at his side, like she’d been stitched into his world.
I’d told myself it didn’t mean anything. That I didn’t care. But the truth was, it left a sour twist in my chest that hadn’t quite gone away
But now, standing there with the blade at my throat, that twist gave way to something else. Because he was here. And the moment he saw Jason holding me, everything about Richard’s composure cracked.
Jason went stiff.
Richard’s voice was no longer just steel–it was fury, barely restrained by protocol. “Is this what you call a last move? Are you that desperate to die tonight?”
Jason panicked.
In a last–ditch move, he yanked me tighter against him, the knife pressing harder. I gasped, but Richard was already moving.
With terrifying precision, he crossed the space in less than a breath, his movements clean and explosive. One moment Jason was using me as a shield, the next he was on the floor with Richard’s hand at his throat.
“Amelia, move,” Richard said sharply, his voice still calm, but barely.
I stumbled back just in time to avoid the scuffle.
But then Richard faltered.
It was only for a second. His grip slipped. Jason surged up with a snarl and lunged toward me again. I didn’t have time to scream.
Richard caught him mid–motion, intercepting the knife. The blade sliced across Richard’s arm, and he barely flinched as he twisted the weapon out of Jason’s hand and shoved him back into the wall.
Jason coughed as he hit the floor but didn’t stay down. With a snarl, he twisted and lunged upward, landing a wild punch to Richard’s side that made both of them stagger.
Richard recovered faster. He ducked the second swing and slammed Jason backward with a brutal blow to the stomach, then followed with a quick strike to the jaw.
Jason hit the ground harder this time, groaning. He started to push up again–but Richard didn’t give him the chance.
With one sharp kick to the ribs, Jason crumpled, the fight knocked clean out of him.
“Stay down.” Richard growled, holding his bleeding arm tight to his side, breathing hard now, more from fury than exhaustion.
I rushed to him, already reaching for the wound. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, but his voice was clipped.
I pulled his hand away and saw the gash–and then saw it start to close. Too fast.
“Richard I whispered.
His breathing was shallow, his pupils slightly blown.
Nathan arrived then, skidding into the hallway with a squad behind him. “What the hell happened?”
“Jason was trying to steal files,” I said automatically. “He pulled a knife on me.”
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Chapter 20
“He’s injured,” I added, motioning to Richard.
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Nathan took one look at Richard’s arm, which was now gushing blood and cursed under his breath. “We need
move. Now.”
MOVIE nh
He swept us into a secure room, locked down communication, and called Simon. Then Richard lost consciousness.
The next twelve hours passed in a blur. Richard was stabilized, but not before Nathan made it clear this couldn’t leak–not yet. Not with Alpha nominations about to be announced.
And they were. Officially.
The Elder named three successors: two from longstanding bloodlines.
And Richard.
Of course he was chosen. Of course the meeting of candidates was scheduled for just days away.
And of course, while the court was trying to stay quiet, Jason–somehow–had already started spreading the news.
“The King is injured.”
Something’s wrong with him.”
And through it all, I stayed by Richard’s side.
At first, because I didn’t want to leave.
Then, because Simon asked me not to. “He stabilizes faster when you’re nearby,” he said, like it was a weather report.
No one questioned it. Not Beta. Not the medics. No one blinked. Because Richard had been hurt protecting me, and everyone understood what that meant–even if they didn’t say it.
When Richard finally opened his eyes, the first person he saw was me.
“Hi” I whispered.
He blinked like he wasn’t sure if I was real. Then, “Did we win?”
I snorted. “You’re alive. That counts.”
He groaned. “Where’s Beta?”
“Already prepping your statement.”
“I need to go.”
“You need to rest,”
He looked at me, and something in his expression shifted. But he didn’t argue again.
Despite his condition, Richard stood on the steps of the palace two days later, framed by the towering marble columns and the sharp gleam of morning light. His posture was rigid, too careful, like the only thing holding him upright was pure will. The color still hadn’t fully returned to his face, and his arm, though bandaged beneath the sleeve, hung slightly stiff at his side.
But he was there.
He took each step like it mattered, like it was part of a promise–silent, determined, and public. The moment his foot touched the final step, the press surged forward, cameras clicking like rainfall, and a ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd.
Still, he didn’t speak. Didn’t gesture. He simply stood, letting them see him–alive, alert, undeniable.
The rumors didn’t vanish, but they paused. The kingdom blinked, and for a brief moment, the fear broke.
He was still standing. And that was enough.
The crowd cheered. The cameras flashed. The rumors, for now, were quiet.
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Chapter 20
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That night, I couldn’t sleep. It was weird being in the palace again–sleeping there, like it was normal. Like I hadn’t spent so many nights. pretending it didn’t feel like walking on eggshells every time I passed Jenny in the hall. But now, with everything that had happened, 1 was too tired to care. And it was kind of nice, actually, doing it without giving a single shit what Jenny would’ve thought about it.
I heard movement down the hall. Not just footsteps–there was a low, broken sound too. Something strained and quiet and unmistakably pained. A muffled noise, like someone was trying to breathe through agony and failing. It stopped me cold.
I held still, listening harder. Another thump. A sharp intake of breath. A whisper that could’ve been a curse or a plea, I couldn’t tell
which.
And I remembered.
The full moon.
Richard had mentioned once, offhandedly, that his shifts were never smooth. That he didn’t sleep well under the full moon.
Something thudded softly in the hall.
I padded barefoot to his room, hesitated, then pushed the door open.
The heat hit me first–like someone had cranked the temperature to unbearable. And then I saw him.
Shirtless. Damp with sweat. Breathing hard.
His hands were gripping the edge of the dresser like he was holding himself back from breaking it.
“Richard?” I said softly.
He looked up, eyes wild.
You need to go.”
“What’s happening?”
He swallowed hard, every muscle in his body tense like he was fighting something from the inside out. “Moon. Wound. It’s–triggered something.”
And suddenly I understood.
This wasn’t just a reaction. This wasn’t just a flare–up from his injury. This was a biological alarm going off in his body. He was in heat. The full moon, the stress, the blood loss–it had all added up to one thing, and I’d walked straight into the middle of it.
He staggered a step forward, then stopped. Like just being close to me made it worse.
“I can’t—”
“Are you seeing someone?” I blurted.
He froze.
“No.” he said, voice hoarse
I stepped forward. “Do you want me?”
His eyes locked on my mouth like it was a question he was burning to answer
“I can’t,” he whispered again, but it didn’t sound like a refusal.
I reached him in two steps, but I didn’t touch him right away.
“Kichard,” I said softly, “look at ine”
He didn’t. He was breathing too hard, sweat slicked at his temples, his jaw clenched like it was taking everything in him to stay still
“Don’t do this,” he murmured “Don’t come closer.”
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Chapter 20
“Why not?” I asked, taking another step. “Are you afraid you’ll want me?”
His head snapped up, eyes blazing. “I already do.”
The confession hit me like a current.
“Then why are you fighting it?” I whispered, stepping into the heat of him, close enough to feel the tension in his chest.
“Because I don’t trust myself right now,” he growled. “I’m not… I can’t think straight. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” I said, lifting my hand to his cheek. “You won’t. Not unless I ask you to.”
His breath shuddered out, and his hands hovered like he wanted to touch me but didn’t dare.
“Tell me to go,” I said, voice low. “And I’ll leave.”
He stared at me like I was killing him slowly.
“I can’t,” he said, barely a whisper.
“Then kiss me,”
:
That was all it took. His hands gripped my waist and pulled me in like he’d been holding back for years. And he kissed me.
