A murmur ripples through the gathered pack.
“Then bare your throats,” I command softly. “And be bound.”
They slip into each other’s arms. She smiles at him, and it’s so tender it tugs at my heart.
A breath passes between them. One heartbeat. Two.
Then she tilts her head to the side and he sinks his teeth into her flesh.
She gasps softly. The sound is almost sexual. These two will be one of the couples who will be at it for weeks. I can tell.
The male growls low in his chest.
He finally releases her and she lunges at his neck, sinking her teeth into his skin, marking him back.
The mark of the fated mates blooms on their flesh, mirrored and perfect. The bond snaps into place like a blade locking into its sheath.
The crowd roars. Wolves howl.
And I nod.
They are sealed. Now and forever.
They don’t even look at me as they leave. They can’t. Their world has already narrowed to two bodies and one need.
Good.
That’s how it should be.
I bless them in the old way, pressing my palm to my heart, speaking the ancient words my father taught me, and his father before him. I say them without faltering.
“By moon and blood, you are bound.
By bite and bond, you are pack.
As one, you stand. As one, you endure.”
The next couple approaches.
And two more wolves are bound.
Inside, something twists. It aches. A heaviness that gets harder to bear with each bound I witness.
I’m only forty-one years of age, but I feel old.
Tired.
Worn down.
I have none of that excitement I see in these couples’ eyes. None of that enthusiasm and lust for life. None of that promise for a better tomorrow.
I just feel… weight. The weight of the kingdom bearing down on my shoulders every waking second.
Heavy is the crown.
This throne takes more than it gives, but this is what it costs to lead the pack. The alpha is meant to bear the weight alone. The burden is supposed to settle on the strongest shoulders.
But lately, I’ve been wondering… how strong are my shoulders?
