Alpha's Regret: Marked By The Lycan King

Third POV

“However,” Zayne continued, his voice taking on an edge of steel, “I will choose my own mate in my own time. When I’m ready to make an announcement, you’ll be informed.”

“But Your Majesty—” Aldric began.

“This discussion is concluded.”

Zayne gathered his documents and headed toward the chamber doors, leaving the council members staring after him in stunned silence.

As he reached the entrance, Aldric called out after him.

“Your Majesty, and what of the Vurbont family? They’ve already started with preparations—”

Zayne paused without turning around.

“Then perhaps,” he said quietly, “they should have waited for an actual proposal before planning their celebrations.”

The heavy doors closed behind him with a resonant boom, leaving the council chamber in tense silence.

The corridor stretched endlessly before Zayne as he walked away from the chamber. His footsteps echoed against the marble floors.

He pulled out his phone. The screen lit up, showing his conversation with Estelle. Their last exchange was a missed call from him. Estelle had never called him back.

Zayne stared at the screen as he recalled that night. He had originally planned to have his first dance with Estelle, but right before he entered the ballroom, the elderly council members practically cornered him.

With them was the Vurbont family. Together, they insisted that he danced with Rosalind Vurbont to open the ball. She was a lycan nobility, and they claimed it was meant to show the lycans’ united front.

So he’d danced. Badly. He made it as brief and uncomfortable as possible, and even made sure to step on her crystal-studded shoes a few times.

To be very fair, Zayne had to applaud Rosalind’s resilience. Even though he was in obvious discomfort, a smile still remained on her face throughout the entire dance.

Unfortunately, by the time he’d escaped Rosalind’s clutches, Estelle was nowhere to be found.

The gift he’d meant to give her in person had been sent by courier instead. She’d never acknowledged receiving it.

“Your Majesty.”

Zayne looked up. Cyril approached from the opposite end of the hallway. The older man’s weathered face carried a knowing expression.

“Councilman Cyril.” Zayne slipped his phone into his pocket.

“Rough meeting?” Cyril asked. He fell into step beside Zayne as they walked.

“The usual nonsense about bloodlines and political alliances.” Zayne raised an eyebrow. “You could’ve told me in advance that you wouldn’t be attending. I would’ve just cancelled it in that case.”

“Ah, yes. The Vurbont matter.” Cyril chuckled. “Apologies, Your Majesty. I shall remember to let you know ahead of time.”

They walked in silence for a moment. Unlike the other council members, Cyril felt more like family than a political obligation. The man had known Zayne since childhood and had been there during the dark years when more than half the lycan court wanted him dead.

“How are things progressing with your mate?”

Zayne’s steps faltered slightly. Of course Cyril would ask. Mason had probably filled him in on every detail. The two often had drinks together, and on occasion, they would even invite Zayne to join them.

“Mason has a big mouth,” Zayne muttered.

Cyril immediately roared with laughter, clutching his slightly round stomach.

“The kid’s just concerned about you. As am I.” Cyril stopped walking. “He tells me she’s quite remarkable. Beautiful, capable, strong, and every bit the sort of queen we need.”

Zayne sighed. “I’m taking things slow. These things take time. Besides, she currently has a lot on her hands.”

“Time,” Cyril repeated the word thoughtfully. “Your Majesty, with respect, women need to be wooed. If you maintain that icy demeanor of yours constantly, even the most wonderful girl will eventually slip away.”

“She won’t slip away.”

The certainty in Zayne’s voice made Cyril raise an eyebrow. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

“You sound very confident about that.”

“I know her better than you think,” Zayne said.

“Perhaps. But what if she finds her fated mate while you’re taking things slow?” Cyril’s eyes searched Zayne’s face. “What then?”

“That won’t happen.” Zayne was confident.

“Better safe than sorry, don’t you think?” Cyril placed a hand on Zayne’s shoulder. “You need to move faster. If not to announce it to the world, at least build a proper relationship with her. Give those old fools in there something concrete to work with instead of pushing the Vurbont girl on you.”

Cyril’s words hit their mark. The council would keep pressuring him about Rosalind until he gave them a better alternative. They wouldn’t be happy about the fact that Estelle wasn’t a lycan, but there was nothing they could do once Zayne properly announced his engagement with Estelle to the rest of the world.

“She might be pulling away because she thinks you’re not serious about her,” Cyril continued. “She was at the summit, yes? Perhaps she saw you dancing with Rosalind Vurbont. Don’t you think that might’ve caused some misunderstandings? After all, seeing your fiancé dancing with another woman sends a message, Your Majesty. And it’s not a good one.”

Zayne knew Cyril was right. He’d been so focused on not rushing Estelle and respecting her space that he might have given her the wrong impression entirely.

“Women want to feel pursued,” Cyril said gently. “Especially strong women like the one Mason describes.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” Cyril patted his shoulder once more. “Don’t let pride or protocol cost you the right woman. The kingdom needs a strong queen, yes. But you need a true partner.”

With that, Cyril headed back toward the council chamber, leaving Zayne alone in the hallway.

Zayne pulled out his phone again. Estelle’s contact information stared back at him. Her profile picture showed her professional headshot from the Blackmoon Pack website.

His thumb hovered over her contact information. Strangely, he felt nervous.

Finally, he took a deep breath and hit the call button.