Chapter 25
Arthur had hoped he was wrong, but a part of him knew.
Owen’s voice rang in his mind.
"We will meet again in the future… When that day comes, you will die, brother.”
If what these people said was true. Owen was his cousin and the child of his father's killer and the leader of the rogue’s attack on the pack.
He was kin and enemy. Worse yet, Owen had already sworn to kill him.
Arthur cursed at the turn of fate. Maybe he wasn’t cursed in the way the Brown Valley pack thought he was, but what else could he call having family member itching to kill him but a curse?
“Damn it,” Arthur hissed. “I've seen him.”
Rex gasped, “When?”
“Before your patrol found me and Daphne,” Arthur growled. “He attacked Daphne... I think he recognized me. He called me brother.”
Tom frowned, “Well… you are related, but I don’t know why he would call you that.”
Rex hummed thoughtfully, “That would explain why rogues have been attacking us so often lately… He’s been trying to kill you…”
Arthur wasn’t certain of that. Owen knew who he was, so he knew enough about the royal family’s powers to know that only Owen would be able to kill him in battle.
Unless he planned to overwhelm Arthur with his rogue minions. He sneered. It was an effective but cowardly move. It reminded him of the patrol of Brown Valley hunting him/
Arthur frowned, “Why? Aren’t we cousins?”
“Because you are the rightful heir to the werewolf kingdom,” Tom said. “Your father was the king. Thus, you are the rightful prince and heir. You’re the only one who could challenge him.”
The hall, which had been whispering, turned quieted, and everyone stared at Arthur, expecting him to say something.
Tom gestured to the throne, “The seat is your birthright, as is our loyalty.”
Arthur glanced at the throne, then frowned unhappily, “No.”
Tom had been ready to rejoice, but Arthur’s words drew him up short. His faith in the royal family and the plans of the moon goddess had been unchanged in all these years. Surely, the moon goddess had seen their need and made a way for Arthur to return to them to rescue them.
What did he mean by no?
“What?”
Arthur shook his head, “I know what kind of a man I am. I'm a madman and a killer, and if I didn't have the bond with Daphne, I would have killed you when you mentioned Alma.”
Tom gasped in shock. He had known that Arthur had to be powerful, but he hadn’t expected that Arthur was that violent. Such violence among the royal family was usually proportionate to their power. How powerful was Arthur that even the mention of Alma would have been enough to set him off?
“B-But, but you have a mate, which means you can control your power—”
Arthur shook his head, “I promised Daphne that I would live a normal life with her in the Silver Armor Pack. But this… What you’re talking about isn’t a normal life. Besides, who aside you would allow a kid from nowhere to be king?”
Arthur glanced over the rest of the room, “I'll bet there aren’t many here that would agree with you.”
No one looked as though they disagreed. Some of them looked almost grateful that he seemed to understand the situation.
“But you're royalty!” Tom cried. “It’s your right as decreed by the moon goddess!”
Arthur scoffed, with a derisive little laugh. The werewolves of the Brown Valley pack had sneered and jeered him. They had called him many things: cursed, insane, madman, dangerous. How ironic that this man seemed to think so highly of him.
If he wasn’t of the royal family, would they have treated him differently? Would they have felt the need to try and kill him? Would Alma still be alive?
Would he have ever met Daphne?
There were too many ifs to consider and none of them mattered. He was happy with Daphne living their simple lives within the Sharp Armor pack’s territory, and he had no intention to change that.
“I'd rather I never was.”
He looked around the room. Many of the werewolves looked at him with curiosity. Some looked at him with disdain, others with awe. It was better than being heckling, but not much better. He didn’t like the expectations than the scorn.
“It’d be best if you all figured out something else.”
He turned, heading to the door and Tom cried out, “Wait, Your Majesty, please!”
“Arthur!” Rex called after him. “Arthur, wait!”
He ignored Rex’s call, shifted, and took the fastest path through the forest back to the Silver Armor Pack. His heart clenched as he thought about his birthright, the bloody history that had led him to the Brown Valley Pack, and Alma’s death.
If there hadn’t been the riot, he and Alma would have stayed at the palace and she would still be alive. The thought of it made his heart burn with hatred and fury. It was his uncle’s fault, but he wasn’t alive. Even if he had been, Arthur doubted he would have the chance to murder him.
Civil war among the royal family over what? Haley and his luna had broken any ideals about family he may have had, but what could have been so important about the throne that Osborne had needed to kill his father?
How had his mother escaped and gotten to Brown Valley from the castle?
All that was left of the civil war was him and Owen now, yet Arthur didn’t know how to feel about it.
His heart was furious about it all. Lucas wanted to rip Owen to shreds as if it would undo all that had been done. His mind knew Owen was a threat, yet everything in him hesitated to commit to that. If they met again, Owen would try to kill him the same way his father had waged war on Arthur’s father. He might even go after Daphne again.
Lucas growled, We should rip him to pieces.
It was the best option to make sure Daphne was safe. It would stop the rogue from being able to organize themselves as well, but Owen was his only living family... Was killing him the right thing to do?
He was so confused. Emotions warred in his heart, yet they weren’t the feelings he was used to. Rage was easy. Hatred and guilt were familiar. This impotent sense of aimlessness, this indecisiveness, and conflict were miserable. He didn’t want to think about it or feel it anymore. He just wanted to see Daphne.
He would have reached out to her, but he didn’t want to alarm her with the tumultuous feelings in his mind.
On his own, he reached the village within an hour and went to their house. Daphne wasn’t there. He went to the infirmary, but she wasn’t there either.
Thinking she might be helping Mamie, he went to Mamie and Blade’s house next, desperate to see her.
He shifted carefully and knocked on the door and Mamie answered the door, smiling up at him.
“Arthur!” She said. “Come on in!”
He followed her, a bit dazed, “A-Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just a little sick due to this little bun of trouble,” Mamie said, affectionately rubbing her belly. “Daphne’s been looking after me today.”
“I-Is she still here?”
Mamie nodded back towards the kitchen.
“Is that Arthur?” Daphne asked coming out of the kitchen and smiling at him. “Where have you been all day?”
Relief and peace filled him at the sight of her. He felt so at ease and his heart felt near bursting with the need to tell her everything that had happened. He opened his mouth but stopped.
Was it a good idea to tell her?
He didn't care about the royal bloodline, and he didn't want to sit on that throne. He just wanted to live with Daphne in whatever way they could as mates... Telling her the truth might alienate Daphne from him. It was hard for Daphne to accept him as a werewolf. He wasn’t confident that she’d accept him as a royal too.
“I… went with the alpha to the pack meeting,” he said stiffly. “Nothing much happened. They were talking about the rogues. I came back early.”
Daphne worried her lip, approaching him. She touched his shoulder, looking up at him fearfully.
“I heard Blade say they found out we were right. They poisoned all the wells… Even though the doctor said you are ok, I'm still worried... Are you sure you're not feeling sick? Is that why you came back early?”
He was of royal blood. Short of death at Owen’s hands, he would be fine no matter what happened. It meant he’d be able to spend the rest of his life with Daphne.
But he smiled at her, and pulled her close, “I’m fine, Daphne. I promise.”
