The palace had never felt so watchful. After the king's decree, every corridor seemed to hold its breath. Servants moved faster, heads lower. Guards stood straighter, eyes sharper. Nobles gathered in tighter knots, their whispers carrying my name like a curse or a prayer, depending on the speaker. One month. Thirty days to prove the impossible: that ten alphas could stand as one without tearing the kingdom apart. That an omega from the fields could bind what tradition had always kept separate. That the echo of ancient failure could be silenced before it repeated.
I felt the new power constantly now. It thrummed beneath my skin like a second pulse, every heartbeat sending ripples of honeyed scent outward. The sigils from Ian's ritual had faded to faint silver lines, but they warmed whenever one of the princes drew near. A warning. A welcome. A reminder that the bond was no longer theoretical.
