The road to the capital took three days on foot.
I refused horses.
Aiden argued until his voice cracked. Caleb threatened to throw me over his shoulder and carry me north anyway. Damon only watched with those unreadable silver eyes and said nothing at all. In the end they walked with me, three princes in muddied to the knees, cloaks traded for plain travelers' wool so no one would recognize them before we were ready.
I needed the time.
Every mile felt like peeling off another layer of the boy I used to be.
By the second evening we camped in a pine hollow beside a river. I sat on a fallen log, staring into the fire while the three of them pretended not to watch me every second.
Aiden spoke first, voice low.
"You could still change your mind. We could turn north at the next fork. My father would never find us."
Caleb, sharpening his sword with slow, deliberate strokes, added, "Or south. I have ships. We sail before the week is out. New continent. New names."
Damon, perched on a rock like a black bird, finally opened his mouth.
"Or we keep walking east and watch the realm burn around him. Because that is what will happen the moment the palace gates open."
The fire popped. Sparks rose into the dark like tiny fleeing stars.
I pulled my knees to my chest.
"I'm not asking any of you to burn," I said. "I'm asking you to choose whether you stand in the flames with me or try to drag me out of them."
Silence.
Aiden looked away first, jaw tight. Caleb's whetstone stopped moving. Damon's faint, bitter smile returned.
None of them left.
On the third dawn we crested the final hill, and the capital spread beneath us like a jeweled crown spilled across the valley.
White marble towers. Violet banners. The great river curling around the walls like a moat of molten sapphire. Even from miles away I could feel it: a low, constant hum against my skin, like a hive of Alphas waking all at once.
My scent had arrived hours ahead of us.
People were already gathering on the battlements and rooftops, heads turning toward the western road as if pulled by the same string Damon had spoken of. I saw banners lowering in confusion. Heard distant trumpets sounding alarms that weren't quite alarms.
Aiden exhaled, long and slow. "Gods. They really are all awake."
Caleb's voice was rough. "How many?"
Damon answered without looking away from the city. "All ten. Plus the king's guard. Plus every noble Alpha with a horse. The gates are already closed to common traffic. They're waiting for him."
I stood between them, small and barefoot in the grass, heart hammering so hard I was dizzy with it.
This was the moment.
Run, the last frightened piece of me begged.
Take it, the new voice purred.
I took one step down the hill. Then another.
Behind me, three sets of boots followed.
We reached the outer gate at midday.
The guards in silver and violet stared openly, weapons half-raised, nostrils flaring. One captain dropped to his knee when he realized who walked at my sides. The rest followed in a clatter of armor. No one spoke. They simply parted like water.
Inside the outer wall, the streets were eerily quiet. Windows shuttered. Market stalls abandoned mid-sale. Only the Alphas were out: nobles on balconies, knights in doorways, common soldiers lining the avenue, every single one staring at me with the same stunned, hungry expression.
I walked through them barefoot, head high, Aiden a pace behind my left shoulder, Caleb at my right, Damon a silent shadow at my back.
The palace gates loomed ahead: three stories tall, carved with rearing wolves and crowned stags. They stood open.
And waiting on the marble steps were the remaining six princes.
I knew them all from portraits and tavern gossip, but seeing them in the flesh was different.
- Prince Ethan (fifth), the scholar, golden hair tied back, spectacles glinting, clutching a book like a shield).
- Prince Finn (sixth), the artist, paint still on his fingers, staring at me like I was a canvas he hadn't dared dream of).
- Prince Gavin (seventh), the scarred war hero, arms crossed, expression thunderous).
- Prince Harlan (eighth), the wild one, grinning like a wolf who'd found the sheepfold open).
- Prince Ian (ninth), the mystic, pale as moonlight, violet eyes already wet with unshed tears).
- Prince Jaxon (tenth), barely nineteen, youngest, flushed and shaking, looking like he might faint or lunge forward, he hadn't decided yet).
Blake was there too, leaning against a pillar with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
Ten pairs of Alpha eyes fixed on me.
Ten heartbeats I could suddenly feel as if they were my own.
The silence stretched until it hurt.
Then Jaxon (sweet, trembling Jaxon) took one stumbling step forward and dropped to both knees on the marble, head bowed.
One by one, the others followed.
Even Blake.
Even Gavin, jaw clenched so hard enough to crack.
Ten princes of the blood Valerian knelt in the palace courtyard while the entire capital held its breath.
I stopped at the foot of the steps.
My voice carried, small but steady.
"I'm not here as a prisoner," I said. "Or a pet. Or a prophecy to be locked away and argued over."
I lifted my chin.
"I'm here to see which of you is worthy of me."
A ripple went through them: shock, fury, hunger, awe.
Aiden stepped forward, eyes blazing with something that looked suspiciously like pride. Caleb's hand brushed my lower back, grounding. Damon's quiet laugh drifted on the wind.
I looked at the ten kneeling princes (my princes, if I decided to claim them) and felt the honey-voice inside me finally speak loud enough to drown out everything else.
"Let's begin"