The Great Hall of the Shadowkeep had never been so loud.
For centuries, the Lycans of the North had celebrated their victories in grim, stoic silence, their minds constantly fighting the maddening hum of the blood-curse. But tonight, the curse was dead. The psychic static that had plagued Kaelen's army for generations had been completely silenced by the purifying resonance of my White Wolf mark.
Instead of brooding monsters, the Great Hall was filled with roaring, laughing warriors. Massive barrels of spiced blood-wine were cracked open. Whole boars, roasted over magma-fueled fire pits, were devoured.
I sat beside Kaelen on the Throne of Ash, watching the savage, beautiful revelry. I was no longer wearing my blood-spattered leather armor; my maids had dressed me in a flowing gown of midnight silk, adorned only with a delicate silver chain that rested against my collarbone, drawing the eye directly to the scarred, intricate mate-mark Kaelen had given me.
General Thorne, his face still smeared with the soot of the Howling Pass, stepped forward from the crowd. The entire hall fell silent as the massive warlord approached the dais. He didn't look at Kaelen. He looked directly at me.
Thorne dropped heavily to one knee, driving his fist into the obsidian floor.
"We have bled for the Shadowkeep for three hundred years, My Queen," Thorne rumbled, his single eye glowing with profound reverence. "We have followed Kings into slaughter and madness. But never have we fought beside a god. You did not just protect our borders today. You gave us our minds back. The Vanguard is yours to command, unto the very gates of hell."
The other four Lycan Generals immediately dropped to one knee behind him. Then, a wave of motion swept through the cavernous hall as five thousand apex predators bowed their heads in absolute, unquestioning submission to an Omega-born Queen.
My breath hitched slightly in my throat. This wasn't the forced, terrified compliance Xander had demanded from his pack. This was raw, authentic loyalty forged in the fires of war.
I stood up, the midnight silk pooling around my feet. I projected my voice, letting the ethereal, calm resonance of the White Wolf carry to the farthest corners of the room.
"Stand, warriors of the North," I commanded.
As one, the massive Lycans rose.
"You bow to me today because we survived," I continued, my gaze sweeping over the scarred, hardened faces of my pack. "But survival is no longer enough. For centuries, the High Council has dictated who is pure and who is cursed. They have stolen our magic, murdered our ancestors, and hoarded the continent's wealth in their Golden Citadel while you froze in the dark."
I felt Kaelen stand up slowly beside me, his sheer physical presence magnifying the weight of my words.
"The Crusade they sent to destroy us is dead in the snow," I declared, my eyes flashing with a brief, brilliant spark of white light. "And now, we do not wait for them to send another. Tomorrow, we march south. We are going to tear down their golden thrones, shatter their holy illusions, and take back the world they stole from us!"
A deafening, primal roar erupted from the Lycan army. They slammed their heavy broadswords against their shields, chanting my name, the sound shaking the very foundations of the ancient castle.
Kaelen turned to me, his crimson eyes dilated with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with blood-wine. He didn't care about the thousands of watching soldiers. He wrapped his massive hand around the back of my neck and pulled me into a deeply possessive, scorching kiss.
"My beautiful, ruinous Queen," he growled against my lips, the mate bond flaring with dark electricity. "You incite them to war so effortlessly."
"They don't need inciting, Kaelen," I whispered, resting my hands flat against his broad, muscular chest. "They just needed someone to finally tell them they are allowed to bite back."
"And tomorrow, we bite the head off the snake," Kaelen promised, his thumb tracing my lower lip. "But tonight, the war can wait. Tonight, you are mine."
He didn't wait for my response. Kaelen effortlessly swept me up into his arms, ignoring the cheering of his generals, and carried me out of the Great Hall, up the winding stone stairs, toward the absolute privacy of the King's solar.