LUCY
The silence after my declaration is a heavy blanket, an oppressive one, which makes me question my resolve, makes me wonder if I have just shattered my own dreams along with the expectations of everyone around me.
It's so quiet that I can hear the gentle wind caressing the leaves of the pines that surround us. So still that my irregular heartbeat echoes like thunder in my ears. I can even hear Doyle's breath being held captive.
He is so shocked that his mouth is agape.
I like that look on him.
Then, as if on cue, a roar of commotion erupts, a frenzy of murmurs that buzz around me like a swarm of agitated bees around a hive, breaking the serene atmosphere.
Voices filled with disbelief and confusion, vibrating with the shock of my declaration, collide and create a chaotic symphony that drowns out my heartbeat. I can feel the weight of every curious gaze piercing through me.
The atmosphere, once sweet with the scent of lilies and celebration, now tastes of copper and ozone. I see the elders and men of the royal cabinet lean in, whispering frantically; I see the representative from Solthera watch me with narrowed eyes, his posture stiffening with offense.
I don' t blame them. Not really. They came for a union; I have given them a divorce before the marriage has even begun.
But I can feel them watching Doyle suspiciously… something I hoped for.
My father steps forward then, his face ghastly, his Alpha aura gleaming with agitation. "Lucy? What are you talking about? What is this nonsense?"
I don't look at my father, or my mother who I'm sure is seconds away from fainting. I keep my eyes on the man I once thought was my forever.
"Doyle doesn't want me," I say, my voice steady even as my heart hammers against my ribs. "He wants the healer's daughter. He wants Mina. I am simply setting him free so he can stop living a lie in my shadow."
Doyle's face goes through a kaleidoscope of expressions before settling on indignant hurt. He throws his hands up, looking at the crowd for support.
Of course.
"Lucy, please," he says, his voice dripping with forced concern. "I know you've been stressed. I know the fire was a shock, but you're being insecure. How can you say something so cruel to me? I have loved you since we were kids. And worse, you accuse your best friend? Mina has been nothing short of loyal to you!"
I turn my head toward her, out of curiosity. Mina has already begun her performance.
Her eyes are teary, her lower lip trembles, and she looks so small and fragile that half the men in the crowd look ready to defend her honor. Never mind that she was as strong as five men.
She doesn't say a word; she just looks at me with an expression of heartbroken betrayal, as if I am the one who stabbed her in the back.
And that really, is enough. Has always been enough for Mina. The murmurs instantly change tone. I hear them.
"She's lost her mind..."
"Poor Doyle, imagine being accused of that on your wedding day..."
"She's always been a bit spoiled, but this?"
"I blame her parents! They shouldn't have made her think that the sun rose from her ass! Can you imagine the audacity of a wolfless princess?"
"You call her princess still? She doesn't deserve the title! How can she accuse pure Mina or does she want to taint everyone with her accursed nature?"
"This girl is foolish. Doesn't she know she is lucky to have Doyle as a mate, despite her wolflessness? Doesn't she know she is lucky to have Mina as a friend… she is so ungrateful!"
"It's that pride. That stinking pride. Imagine accusing Doyle…"
They believe him. Of course they do. He is the golden warrior, and she is the saintly healer. And I am just the wolfless princess throwing a tantrum.
"I don't care if you believe me," I say, looking at the officiating elder. "I am asking to be rejected. The bond cannot be sealed in deceit."
My father covers the distance between us, his shadow looming large. I can see the shame burning in his eyes.
He is a man of pride, and to him, I am dragging the Drakonia name through the dirt in front of everyone, in front of the representative from Solthera—so technically in front of the whole Lykara. Soltherans are loquacious.
"Call off this rubbish, Lucy," he growls, dangerously. "Stop playing games with the throne. You are embarrassing your bloodline. If you do not proceed with this union right now, you forfeit your claim. You lose your right to the throne, and you lose your place in this pack."
So, he doesn't believe me either…
Or maybe he does, but pride won't let him side with me. Not in front of the public. Not when their opinions were not in my favor.
That damned Drakonia pride.
For a heartbeat, I waver. This wasn't part of my plan after all. I had banked on Doyle being the one eating dust now. I had banked on Mina being the outcast.
The fear sinks its claws into my gut coldly, sharply. I look at my mother. Her eyes are pleading, filled with a desperate 'just-say-yes' energy.
But then I feel the stir of my ancestors, the fury that was us. I am a princess, yes, but I am an Alpha's daughter. And my father trained me to stand tall.
I would rather live as a stray in the wilderness than live as a cuckolded queen in a palace of lies. I will not bend.
"Then I lose it," I say.
My father blanches. He didn't think I'd choose the exit. His pride is a cage; even though I see the flash of regret in his eyes, he cannot take back the ultimatum he gave in front of his people.
"Fine!" he bellows, his voice echoing off the trees. "Then you are no longer of this pack! You leave this ground and you do not return!"
"I will go," I reply, my chin held high. "But Doyle must reject the bond first. I will not carry his mark into my exile."
Doyle looks at me, his eyes dark with a complicated mix of triumph and feigned sorrow. He knows that with me gone, he is the only logical heir left to be groomed for leadership.
I clamp down on the urge to whimper. I lost. I still lost. They will have my throne.
Is this the will of the goddess? I thought she was fair?
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won't lose in that regard.
I watch him step forward, place a hand over his heart. "Since you insist on destroying us, Lucy... I reject you."
A physical jolt of pain assails me as the spiritual threads snap, but I don't let my knees buckle. I don't give him the satisfaction. I instead level him a bored look that has him confused.
My father meanwhile doesn't look at me again. He turns on his heel and storms out of the clearing, his cape billowing behind him.
The crowd begins to disperse afterwards in a chaotic hum of scandal. Some even pat Doyle on the back as he leaves the clearing seemingly angry, with Mina right on his heels.
No one comes to console me. Not even my mother, who casts one last, heartbroken look in my direction before she rushes after her husband, ever the dutiful Luna.
So, I stand alone in the center of the Sacred Grounds, dressed in white silk and crowned with flowers, a princess of nowhere.