CHAPTER 145: CHAPTER 145: HARD DECISIONS

Kieran’s POV

The underground living room was quiet. The kind of silence that came not from peace but from the weight of everything unsaid.

I sat alone on the middle couch, elbows resting on my knees, eyes locked on the floor like it had all the answers I didn’t. The others surrounded me, Cyrin, Astrid, Magnus, Varya, Thorin, the handful of survivors from our blood-soaked war, and Lorraine.

The air was thick with tension, with expectation. They had just named me king.

Alpha King.

It echoed in my head like a curse.

I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted it.

My father wore the title like it was part of his skin, brutal, brilliant, untouchable. Every decision he made rippled through the kingdom like gospel. Every mistake he buried in fire and silence.

Me?

I was the son who broke rules, the prince who disobeyed, the wolf who let his emotions claw at his sense of duty. How the hell was I supposed to rule a kingdom when I couldn’t even hold myself together?

"You’ll have to come with us to the palace for the proper coronation, my King," Cyrin said, standing with the posture of an experienced Council man and the voice of a mountain.

I didn’t look up. "No."

The word left my mouth like steel.

"No?" Cyrin blinked once, then twice, like the word was alien to him. "You are the Alpha King now. This is not a suggestion."

"I’m aware," I said, finally lifting my gaze to meet his. "But I won’t hold a coronation while there’s a war ripping through my kingdom."

Astrid shifted beside him, lips tight, arms crossed, her sharp eyes watching everything. Magnus stood beside her like a stone sentinel. Thorin leaned against the wall, arms folded, tension coiled in every inch of him. Lorraine... she stood in the corner, quiet, unreadable, her eyes fixed on me with something too heavy to name.

"I cannot abandon this fight," I continued. "The Crimson Hunt is spreading like disease. Adrian and Aveline are murdering anyone who doesn’t kneel. I won’t sit in a golden chair, play ceremonial king in silk robes while the kingdom burns. I will not be that kind of ruler."

Cyrin’s jaw clenched. "With all due respect, Your Majesty...."

"Don’t call me that," I cut in, sharper than I meant. "Not now."

He inhaled deeply, as if steadying himself. "With all due respect, then... your life is no longer yours. You belong to the people now. Hundreds of thousands of wolves depend on your survival. You are not invincible, Kieran. You may have attained the ascension, but even the strongest king can bleed."

"Good," I said. "Let them see me bleed. Let them know I fight with them. Let them know I don’t hide."

Cyrin stepped forward. "If you die....."

"Then someone else can wear the crown," I snapped, standing up from the couch, the power in my voice vibrating through the air. "But I won’t live as a king who sends others to die in a war I was too much of a coward to fight."

Astrid opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. Even Magnus, who always had something to say, remained silent.

They didn’t understand.

Maybe they never would.

But this.... this is how I honored my father’s death. Not with a gilded chair and a ceremonial blade, but by making damn sure the people who murdered him paid for every breath they stole.

"I’ve made my decision," I said, staring Cyrin down. "If you won’t stand with me here... then go back to the palace, and find yourself another king."

He didn’t speak. No one did.

All eyes were on me now, Cyrin’s, Magnus’, Astrid’s, even Lorraine’s. My declaration hung in the air like lightning before the strike.

Then Astrid took a step forward, arms folded behind her back in that posture of careful discipline she always wore when things got serious. Her voice was low but firm.

"What do you want to do, Your Majesty?" she asked. "You’re the Alpha King now. Whatever you decide, we will follow your command."

I met her eyes, "I want to fight."

There was no hesitation, no tremble in my voice. Only resolve. Only fury

Astrid nodded once. "Then how do you plan to do it?"

I took a slow breath and turned to Cyrin, who stood straight and still like a sentinel carved from granite.

"How deep has the Crimson Hunt infiltrated the kingdom?"

Cyrin’s eyes darkened. "We lost the battle of the North, Your Majesty. They’ve completely taken control of that region now. All of it belongs to them. And they’ve fully occupied the Academy too, and their agents are rooted in nearly every part of the kingdom now."

My hands clenched at my sides.

"They’re targeting the South next," Cyrin continued. "That’s what my sources are telling me. And if they take it, they’ll have enough power to launch a full siege on the royal stronghold."

I nodded grimly. "Then we’ll take back the Academy first. From their, we’ll move South"

A murmur passed through the room. I turned toward Cyrin again.

"How many soldiers do we have ready to fight right now?"

He didn’t miss a beat. "We’ve gathered approximately ten thousand loyal soldiers. All handpicked. Most are elites, lycans, and a few trained nobles who refused to bow to the Crimson Hunt."

A flicker of pride stirred in my chest. Ten thousand. Not nearly enough for a full-scale war, but enough for the right kind of fight.

Then Magnus stepped forward, his eyes sharp beneath his thick brows. "If we deploy all ten thousand to the Academy, they may be too worn out to fight again when we move to the South. The Crimson Hunt will see our movement. They’ll prepare a counterstrike. I wouldn’t advise committing every force we have."

"What do you suggest then?" I asked, turning to him fully.

Magnus opened his mouth, but Astrid reached across and subtly touched his arm, stopping him.

"No," she said softly. "You are our King, Your Majesty. The strategy is yours to command. We follow your lead."

For a moment, I stood there, the weight of it all pressing on my shoulders, the war, the title, the crown I never asked for.

I didn’t know what to say to them, not yet

I stood still, every instinct in me screaming for control, for the answer. But I didn’t have it. Not yet.

"Give me a moment," I muttered, and I turned and walked out of the war room.

I pushed open one of the doors, stepped inside, and closed it behind me.

I sank onto the bed, elbows on my knees, my hands tangled in my hair. I stared at the ground as if the answers were carved into the concrete beneath my boots. I could almost hear my father’s voice in my head, stern, exacting, cold. He had tried to prepare me for this day. Drilled every lesson into my bones. Trained me like a weapon. Molded me for the crown.

But I don’t think even he ever expected it would come to this. That he would be murdered. That I’d ascend in the middle of a war I never saw coming.

And worse.... that I would feel so damn alone.

The door creaked open behind me. I didn’t lift my head at first.

Then her scent hit me, soft rain, wild roses

Lorraine.

I looked up, surprised. After what I said to her... after all those hurtful wprds... she should hate me. She should never want to look at me again. But there she was, walking in, closing the door gently behind her like she wasn’t standing in front of the monster who had broken her heart.

She didn’t speak right away.

Then, quietly, bravely "I know I’m not supposed to be here. I know I’m not worthy of standing in front of you or talking to you but...." Her voice cracked just slightly. "Are you alright?"

I blinked.

Of all the things she could have said. Of all the rage she could have thrown back at me, that was what she asked?

"I feel like this is all happening too fast," she continued. "You must be overwhelmed."

I nodded slowly. "I’m fine."

It was a lie. And I think she knew it.

Because I wasn’t fine.

I wanted to reach for her, pull her into my arms and bury myself in her warmth. I wanted her voice in my ear, her hands on my back, her lips against mine, just for a moment. Just one.

But I’d made a promise to my wolf. A binding one. If I wanted to survive what was coming.... if I wanted to keep her alive, I had to stay away.

So I didn’t say anything else.

She sat beside me anyway. Her presence was like a balm I wasn’t allowed to touch.

"You don’t have to be perfect, you know," she said softly. "You don’t have to have all the answers right now. But don’t push people away because you’re scared."

I’m not scared for me, I wanted to say. I’m scared for you.

But I didn’t.

I stood up instead. I didn’t look her in the eye. If I did, I might not walk out of that room.

I left her behind and returned to the war room.

Everyone was still gathered, Astrid, Magnus, Cyrin, Varya, the royal guards, the students who hadn’t fled.

"We’re going to take one thousand soldiers to the Academy," I said, my voice cold and clear.

Cyrin frowned. "My King.... I doubt that will even be barely enough. On our way here, we saw thousands of Crimson Hunt soldiers converging at the Academy. Their numbers are growing by the day."

I turned to him.

"It will be enough."

"And why is that?" Astrid asked, her tone cautious.

I met her eyes.

"Because we’re going with your advice," I said.

"We’re bringing my mother, the Ghosthound Queen, with us to fight."

Gasps rippled across the room.

Cyrin’s jaw tensed.

Astrid stiffened.

Lorraine... I didn’t let myself look at her.

This was the second hard decision I’d make as the Alpha King.

And it was obviously not going to be the last.