Thorne's POV
I have fifteen minutes to teach my mate how to shift into her full Lycan form, or hundreds of wolves will tear her apart.
"Close your eyes," I tell Rowena, keeping my voice steady even though my Lycan is screaming inside me. "Feel your Lycan inside you. She's there, waiting. Call to her."
Rowena closes her eyes, her face tight with concentration. "I'm trying, but I can't feel anything except terror."
Another howl from outside. The wolves are getting impatient.
Fourteen minutes.
"The terror is blocking you." I take her hands. The mate bond flares at the contact. "You need to let go of the fear. Trust your Lycan."
"Trust her?" Rowena's eyes snap open, violet and terrified. "She took over during the attack! I didn't control her—she controlled me!"
"Because you were in danger. Your Lycan protected you." I squeeze her hands. "But right now, you need to call her willingly. Work together."
"I don't know how!"
Kieran appears at my shoulder. "Twelve minutes. The wolves are moving closer to the gates."
Panic flashes across Rowena's face. "This is impossible. I can't do this. I'm going to die—"
"Stop." I cup her face, forcing her to look at me. "You are Rowena Hartwell, daughter of the strongest Lycan Queen in history. You survived twelve years of poison. You survived rejection. You survived meeting the man who killed your parents." My thumbs brush her cheeks. "You are not weak. You will not die tonight."
Tears stream down her face. "But what if I can't—"
"You can." I press my forehead against hers, letting the mate bond flow between us. "Feel me through the bond. Feel my Lycan. Let him show yours the way."
I shift partially—eyes going crimson, teeth sharpening. Through the mate bond, I push images to Rowena: what it feels like to let the Lycan take over, how to surrender control while maintaining awareness.
Rowena gasps. "I can feel him. Your Lycan. He's so strong."
"He wants to help you. Let him guide your Lycan out."
I feel the moment Rowena stops fighting. Her body relaxes. The fear in her eyes shifts to determination.
"Okay," she whispers. "I'm ready."
Ten minutes left.
Rowena's body starts to tremble. Not from fear—from power building inside her.
"That's it," I encourage. "Don't fight it. Let her come."
The trembling increases. Rowena cries out in pain as her bones begin to shift.
"It hurts!"
"I know. But you're doing it. Keep going."
Her fingers elongate into claws. Silver-white fur ripples across her arms. Her eyes snap open, glowing pure gold.
Then she screams.
The transformation explodes outward. One moment she's human, the next she's full Lycan—massive, silver-white, beautiful and terrifying.
But something's wrong.
Rowena's Lycan is snarling, her eyes wild. She's lost in the transformation, her human consciousness buried too deep.
"Rowena!" I call. "Stay with me! Don't let the beast take over!"
Her Lycan's head whips toward me. For a second I think she's going to attack. Her lips pull back, showing fangs.
My own Lycan responds, rising to meet the challenge.
Then Rowena's Lycan whimpers.
The wildness fades from her golden eyes. Intelligence returns. She takes a shaky step toward me, and I see her—Rowena, still in control.
"Good," I breathe. "Now, look at your chest."
She looks down.
There, glowing against her silver-white fur, is the Crown Mark—an intricate symbol that looks like a crown made of moonlight. It pulses with power, unmistakable and undeniable.
Proof that she's a true Crown Right holder.
"You did it," I say. "Now we need to show them."
Kieran throws open the balcony doors. "Five minutes! They're at the gates!"
I shift to my full Lycan form and lead Rowena onto the balcony.
Below us, hundreds of wolves wait. At the front, Alpha Cornelius shifts to human form.
"Rowena Hartwell!" His voice booms. "You claim Crown Right heritage! Prove it or face execution!"
Rowena's Lycan trembles beside me. Through our bond, I feel her terror resurging.
You can do this, I send through the bond. Just show them the mark.
She steps forward to the edge of the balcony. Moonlight catches her silver-white fur. She rears up, displaying her chest where the Crown Mark blazes like a beacon.
The crowd goes absolutely silent.
Then, as one, every wolf drops to their bellies in submission. Even the Alphas bow.
Alpha Cornelius shifts back and lowers his head. The Right of Witness is satisfied.
Rowena did it.
Relief crashes through me so hard my legs nearly give out.
But then I see it—Rowena's Lycan form is swaying. The transformation took too much out of her. She's collapsing.
I catch her before she hits the balcony floor. She shifts back to human, unconscious and trembling.
"Get Isolde!" I bark at Kieran. "Now!"
I carry Rowena inside, laying her on the bed. Her skin is burning—transformation fever.
Isolde arrives within minutes. "Move aside."
I step back, but I can't leave. The mate bond keeps me anchored to her side.
Isolde works quickly, pressing cooling herbs to Rowena's forehead, forcing medicine between her lips. "Her body is in shock from the rapid transformation. She needs rest."
"Will she be okay?"
"Physically? Yes." Isolde's eyes meet mine. "But Thorne, she just proved to hundreds of wolves that she's a legitimate threat to your throne. The Summit isn't going to be about whether she's real anymore. It's going to be about whether you're strong enough to kill her when the time comes."
The words hit like a punch.
"I won't kill her."
"Then you'll both die." Isolde packs up her supplies. "The Council won't accept any other outcome."
She leaves, and I'm alone with my unconscious mate.
I pull a chair beside the bed and take Rowena's hand. Through the bond, I feel her dreaming—nightmares about combat, about blood.
"I'll find a way," I whisper. "I promise."
I'm still sitting there when an explosion rocks the castle two hours later.
The windows shatter. Alarms blare. Kieran's voice echoes: "We're under attack!"
I'm on my feet instantly, shifting to Lycan form. Through the broken windows, I see them—dozens of wolves pouring over the castle walls, led by a figure I recognize.
Dashiell Vane.
And behind him, looking conflicted, is Callister.
They've brought an army.
Rowena jerks awake beside me, immediately shifting to her Lycan form. What's happening?
Our Lycan forms can communicate telepathically now.
Before I can answer, Dashiell's voice booms across the castle grounds, magically amplified.
"Thorne Obsidian! You've stolen what belongs to the Vane pack! Return Rowena Hartwell to her rightful guardian, or we burn this castle to the ground!"
He can't be serious, Rowena sends. I'm your mate. He has no legal claim.
But then Dashiell holds up a document with official seals.
"I have a decree from the Alpha Council!" Dashiell shouts. "Due to questions about the legitimacy of your mating—specifically whether you coerced an eighteen-year-old into bonding during a vulnerable state—the Council has granted me emergency guardianship until the Summit!"
My blood runs cold.
They can't do that! Rowena's Lycan snarls.
But they can. And they did.
"You have one hour to surrender Rowena peacefully!" Dashiell continues. "Or we take her by force! And if she's harmed in the fighting, we'll invoke Pack Justice and execute you both!"
Beside me, Rowena's Lycan is shaking with rage and fear.
What do we do?
I look at the army surrounding our castle. Then at Kieran rushing in with our guards. Then at Rowena—my mate, my second chance.
We're trapped. If we fight, Rowena might be hurt and we'll both be executed. If we surrender, Dashiell gets her back and will kill her.
One hour to figure out how to save my mate from an army and a Council decree.
Then I see it—Callister standing behind his father, his face torn with guilt.
And I get an idea.
Rowena, I send through our bond. How much do you trust that Callister still has feelings for you?
What? Why?
Because I think he's our way out of this.