29. Milo
— ? —
Milo
I wake to sunlight and warmth and the impossible awareness of another soul inside my chest.
Lynn.
She’s curled against me on the moss, the white dress draped over us both like a blanket, and I can feel her, feel the soft hum of her sleeping mind, the peace radiating through our bond like music.
Mine.
The word doesn’t feel possessive anymore. It feels like a homecoming. Like the last piece of a puzzle finally clicking into place.
I trace my fingers along her shoulder, watching the sunlight play across her skin. The bite mark on her neck has already started to heal, the bond’s doing, but it’s still visible. Proof. Evidence. A claim written in flesh.
She stirs.
“Stop staring at me.”
“Never.”
“It’s creepy.”
It’s not creepy. It’s the bond, wide open between us for the first time, and it runs both directions now.
I can feel her waking before her eyes open, the drowsy warmth of her, the pulse of want that answers mine before she’s decided anything about it.
She feels it too. I know the second she catches me broadcasting, because her breath stutters against my chest.
“You’re doing it on purpose,” she accuses, muffled against my skin.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re broadcasting,” she says.
“So are you, darling.” I slide my hand down over her hip, unhurried, claiming. “That’s the fun part.”
“It’s romantic.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m being romantic.”
“You’re being obsessive.”
“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”
She laughs, still half-asleep, and burrows closer.
“What time is it?”
“Early. We should head back soon.” I pause. “Unless you want to stay here forever. I could arrange that.”
“What about your kingdom?”
“Cassius can handle it.”
“What about my classes?”
I keep throwing obstacles at him and he keeps knocking them down, gentle and certain, patient enough to wait out every reason I have left to say no.
“I’ll hire tutors.”
“What about Mr. Darcy?”
“…Isla can bring him to visit.”
She opens her eyes, those brown eyes I’ve loved since the first day, and smiles at me.
“Hi.”
“Hey, you.”
“We’re bonded.”
“Completely.”
“You’re stuck with me forever.”
“I’m counting on it.”
She kisses me, soft and sweet, and the bond sings between us.
This, I think. This is what he felt. Father. This is what he had with Mother.
No wonder he was willing to die for it.
We return to the compound hand in hand.
The pack is waiting.
Every member who kept vigil last night stands in the courtyard, faces turned toward us, and when we emerge from the treeline, they bow. Not the careful, political bows of the council session, these are deep and reverent and genuine.
They felt it.
The bond snapping into place, the goddess’s blessing pouring through the pack bonds like spring hitting a frozen forest. The root of a king’s strength, deepened exactly as promised.
“Your Majesties,” Cassius says, stepping forward. There’s a smile on his face, an actual smile, possibly the first I’ve seen in months. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you, Cassius.” I glance at Lynn. “Has the council assembled?”
“They’re waiting in the great hall. Quite… eagerly.”
“I’ll bet.”
We walk through the compound together.
Everyone we pass stops to acknowledge us, some with bows, some with murmured blessings, some just staring in open wonder. Lynn’s hand tightens on mine.
This is overwhelming, I feel through the bond.
You’ll get used to it.
Will I?
Eventually. I squeeze back. I’m right here.
The great hall doors swing open.
The council is assembled at the long table, every elder present, including Thorne, whose face is a careful mask of neutrality. They rise as we enter.
“King Milo,” Elder Gray says formally. “And…” He pauses. “We haven’t yet determined the proper title for-”
“Queen,” I say. “The proper title is queen.”
A ripple goes through the council.
“The bonding is complete,” I continue. “The goddess’s blessing was witnessed by the entire pack. Lindsay Crowe is my mate, my partner, and my queen. Are there any objections?”
Silence.
I look at Thorne.
“Elder Thorne? Any concerns about human contamination? Sacred bloodlines? The integrity of our traditions?”
His jaw tightens.
“No, Your Majesty.”
“No? None at all?”
“The goddess’s will is clear.” The words seem to physically pain him. “I have no objections.”
“How gracious of you.” I turn to the rest of the council. “Anyone else? Now’s the time.”
More silence.
“Excellent.” I take my seat at the head of the table, pulling out the chair beside me for Lynn. “Then let’s discuss the transition. My mate will need to be briefed on pack affairs, introduced to regional leaders, and formally presented to the territories. I want a full schedule by end of day.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And Elder Thorne?”
He looks up.
“Your son’s exile begins today. I trust you’ll ensure he leaves the territory peacefully?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” His voice is hollow.
“Good.” I let the moment hang. “That will be all.”
The council files out, and I watch them go with something like satisfaction.
Lynn leans close.
“You enjoyed that.”
“Immensely.” I don’t bother hiding my grin.
“The crow-eating thing.”
“Every single second of it.”
“You’re a terrible person.”
“I’m a king.” I grin at her. “It’s different.”
My mother finds us in the private gardens an hour later.
She doesn’t say anything at first. Just walks toward Lynn with tears streaming down her face and pulls her into an embrace so fierce I worry about broken ribs.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”
“Genevieve-”
“You brought him back.” She’s sobbing now. “He’s been so lost since his father died, so closed off, and you brought him back-”
“I didn’t do anything-”
“You did everything.” She pulls back, cupping Lynn’s face in her hands. “You loved him. That’s all he needed. Someone to love him without wanting anything in return.”
Isla appears beside them, and then she’s hugging Lynn too, and the three women are crying together in the morning light, and I stand back and watch with my heart so full it aches.
This is family, I think. This is what I was fighting for.
Lynn catches my eye over my mother’s shoulder.
Get in here, she thinks through the bond.
I’m fine.
Get in here NOW, you emotionally repressed disaster of a man.
I get in there.
That afternoon, I walk the compound alone.
Well, not entirely alone. Lynn is with my mother, learning the intricacies of pack protocol. Isla is terrorizing the staff. Cassius is handling more things than I can keep track of, all of which require my attention.
But I need this. Just for a moment. A chance to breathe.
I end up at the training yards.
Father’s favorite place. He spent hours here, drilling guards, teaching young wolves the basics of combat. This ground taught me to fight, and then it taught me to lead.
I learned to grieve on this ground.
“You’d like her,” I say to the empty air. “She’s stubborn and brilliant and completely inappropriate. She argues with everyone. She talks to her hamster like it understands her.” I smile. “She’s perfect.”
A breeze stirs the trees.
I close my eyes.
“I miss you,” I whisper. “Every day. But it doesn’t hurt the same way anymore. It hurts like… like a healing wound. Still there, still real, but not bleeding.”
The breeze settles.
“She taught me that. How to grieve and be happy in the same breath. How to carry your memory without letting it crush me.” I open my eyes. “I think that’s what you wanted. That’s why you pushed me to find someone. You knew.”
The training yard is quiet.
But it doesn’t feel empty.
Moonrise finds me on the balcony of the great hall.
Lynn is finally free from my mother’s clutches, currently engaged in what appears to be a standoff with Mr. Darcy over his food bowl. Isla brought him over an hour ago, and he’s been sulking ever since.
“He’s fine,” Lynn is saying. “Isla followed the care manual exactly.”
The hamster turns his back to her.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
An indignant squeak.
“Oh, I’m the one who-”
She stops mid-sentence, eyes going unfocused.
Someone’s here, she thinks through the bond. I can feel, something.
It’s the goddess, I reply. She wants to talk.
She can TALK to me?
She can talk to both of us now. You’re pack.
That’s terrifying.
You get used to it.
Why does everyone keep saying that?
The moonlight shifts.
That familiar presence settles around us, ancient and luminous and impossibly smug.
Well, well, the goddess murmurs. If it isn’t my favorite king and his perfectly matched mate.
“You knew,” I say aloud, so Lynn can hear both sides of the conversation. “From the beginning. You knew she was my mate.”
Of course I knew. I’m the one who MADE her your mate.
“You - what?”
Not literally. Fated bonds aren’t manufactured, pup. They’re discovered. But I saw the thread between you before either of you was born. I watched it strengthen as you grew. And when the time was right…
“You put her name in the raffle.”
I made sure the right professor pulled the right lottery ball. A pause. Though I admit, I didn’t expect her to argue with you on day one. That was a delightful surprise.
Lynn’s mouth is hanging open.
“I - you - the entire time-”
The best name I ever gave, the goddess says warmly. And I’ve named more than you could count, wolf paired with wolf down all the centuries. A human, only twice before you in all of recorded history, and never one quite like you, Lynn. None who fit quite so perfectly.
“See, that’s the part I can’t get past,” Lynn says.
The warmth in the room stalls. Beside me Lynn squares her shoulders at the empty air, chin up, ready to argue with a being who could unmake her with a thought. Every protective instinct I own goes rigid. You do not, I think at her uselessly, talk to the goddess like that.
Lynn talks to the goddess like that.