a king can't be a king without the strength of his queen
King Magnus sat at the head of the table, his golden crown glistening in the light. His usual stormy expression was upon his face, his head high and gaze hard. He was in the middle of a meeting, the standard monthly ones the Council scheduled. Although the Council was technically above him, no one ever defied what he said. He was too powerful, not to mention immortal.
The meeting was boring to the king, as per usual. They talked of solutions to problems but none of them ever took action.
He was about to yell at the Council for being the cowards they are, when a warm sensation pervaded his body. His previous anger dwindled until it was no longer there, and he felt calm for the first time in years. He immediately knew what that meant.
His mate was of age.
Being a werewolf, his senses were already heightened. Being king only enhanced them more. Eighteen was the age werewolves could first start finding their mates.
The King was over nine hundred years old, but had stopped aging at 27.
This new revelation meant that his mate had turned eighteen today. It also meant he could track her, even without bearing his mark.
Perks of being a king.
King Magnus abruptly stood up from his throne, halting the conversation of the Council. The room was silent until a brave voice spoke up.
"M-My King, is there s-something wrong?" The man who spoke was a short, lanky advisor who usually did most of the talking during these meetings.
"This meeting is adjourned," The King's deep voice resonated within the room, the deep baritone daring anyone to defy his words. The Council members stood in shock until the same man spoke up.
"Y-Your highness, this m-meeting is of the utmost importance, it would not be wise to —" the lanky advisor's stuttering was cut off by King Magnus' deathly growl.
The Council members shook in fear.
For they knew that he had just angered the beast inside, that he had awoken something so terrifyingly primal, that he had just dug his own grave.
The King pounced on the advisor, pinning him against the wall with his forearm. His eyes were a void black, which meant his beast was out.
"You dare defy me, mutt! I'll have you know that the one thing keeping me from tearing your head from your body is my mate — your future Queen," the beast's voice was substantially deeper and scarier than King Magnus' regular voice, which terrified the advisor to no end.
The King tightened his grip on him and smirked when he saw his face turning red. "So tell me, what is of the utmost importance now?" he growled viciously.
The advisor choked on his own breath —which was ironic because currently he was losing it. "Your mate, s-sir," he wheezed out.
"Correct," King Magnus said. He released his hold on the advisor and mind linked his guards.
The advisor foolishly thought that he'd gotten away unscathed. But soon enough the royal guards burst through the doors, grabbing the advisor by his arms.
"Dungeon." One word spoken by the King himself was enough to send the now-prisoner into hysterics. The dungeon was a place for the horrifyingly cruel, a man who advised for a living had no such place there.
"P-Please, your majesty! I-I'm sorry! Please!" His useless pleads grew quieter as the guards dragged him out of the room and towards his impending doom.
Once the advisor was out of his sight, the King turned towards the rest of the Council who watched the whole scene like deer in headlights. They knew not to interfere when the King was angry. "Let this be a lesson," the King started. "That whoever keeps me away from my mate shall suffer a fate far worse than death...It would not be wise to keep me from the one thing made to calm me down." His voice held a tone of finality, and this time no one dared to argue.
"You shall treat your Queen, my mate, with as much respect as you would me. She is in a higher position of power than all of you combined, and you would do well to remember that when she arrives." The King made it sound like he had the whole thing planned out, when in reality he had no clue how meeting his mate was going to go.
But he would never confess to anyone that he was actually scared for once.
"Am I understood?" He shouted, making the Council flinch. A chorus of "Yes, King Magnus"'s was heard.
"Leave." The Council members practically sprinted out of the meeting room at his command. It was kind of amusing how scared they were of him.
The King's shoulders relaxed, feeling that he no longer had to be regal or stiff. In front of the Council he showed no emotion, except for anger like just now. But no one has ever seen him smile, or laugh, or cry.
But he swore with his mate it would be different. He would only show her the most compassionate side of him, the caring, gentle side reserved for her and her only. He would be patient with her and would never raise his voice when near her. He would love her, cherish her, protect her.
His wolf growled with satisfaction at the thought of his mate loving him.
So what was he waiting for?
King Magnus mind linked his servants to get the car ready. He was going to find his mate.
• • • • •
The task seemed easier than the King imagined, he simply followed his wolf's instructions and his gut too. Whenever he felt a certain pull towards somewhere, he told his driver to take that turn. It was as easy as that.
Upon reaching the town the driver looked more and more nervous. "My King, are you sure we are in the right area? This is a strictly human town."
King Magnus didn't reply, for he had figured that out already.
His mate was human.
But in all honesty, he didn't really care. He knew that the Moon Goddess made his mate specifically for him, only him, and he relished in that fact. Human or werewolf, he'd still love her. But the fact that she was human almost made him happy. It meant she'd have to rely on him for most things and he would be able to protect her.
The King looked out the car window at the small town his mate lived in. It looked cozy and welcoming, he couldn't imagine any crime happening here and for that he was glad.
He had smelled her scent miles off, but tried to ignore the sweet aroma. Every time he breathed in he wanted to growl in satisfaction and pure pleasure. Her scent was a mix of strawberries and roses, an enticing combination he wanted to inhale forever.
Her scent got stronger upon a certain road and he suddenly told his driver to pull over. The driver looked startled but did so anyway. King Magnus stepped out hastily and onto the sidewalk. His wolf was going crazy in his mind and his nerves were haywire. He was so distracted he didn't even realize he still had his crown on and a suit from the meeting. He felt completely out of control yet at the same time in more control then he had ever been. His mind didn't even register his feet walking down the sidewalk, just that his mate's scent was getting closer by the second.
Suddenly he rounded a corner and ran into somebody. No, not just somebody, his mate.
His shock caused him to stumble back and his crown fell to the ground but he didn't register it, he was too busy staring at the angel he'd bumped into.
Her hair was chocolate brown, a wavy mess that looked like she'd run her hands through it multiple times throughout the day. Her eyes were a soft yet tantalizing green that looked like an open field on a bright sunny day. She had a button nose and plump, pink lips that were perfectly arched. She was wearing a white summer dress that fell just above her knees, along with wedge sandals that added a good 2 inches.
King Magnus saw her mouth move but didn't actually hear what she was saying.
"I-I'm sorry, what?" He stuttered. His wolf mentally smacked him for 'acting so uncool around their mate.'
She giggled and his breath hitched. It sounded like twinkling bells. His wolf begged him to say something to make her laugh again. "I said you dropped your crown," He registered her voice before her words; it was melodic and soft but innocent as well. He had never heard something so beautiful.
When he made no move to pick up his crown like she implied, she did instead. Normally he'd object to anyone touching it, it was the last thing he had of his family, which was a sensitive subject. But with her he didn't mind; with her he would allow her to do anything. As long as it was safe, of course.
Instead of handing it to him she inspected it in her hands and giggled, eliciting another sigh from his mouth. She twisted it in her hands, running her fingers over it. "Why do you even have a crown? It looks so real..." she whispered. He refrained himself from telling her it was. She definitely wasn't ready for that yet.
Suddenly she lifted the crown and placed it upon her own head, and King Magnus' wolf fought to be let out. Not of anger, though. Of pleasure.
Seeing his mate wear his crown was eye-opening, astonishing, and surreal all at the same time. The fact that she was wearing something that was his sparked his possessive side. She looked like a true goddess in his eyes, with the crown glistening in the sunlight and her bright smile. She was truly a Queen, his Queen.
The crown was a little too big for her though, and fell slightly, causing her hair to cover her eyes. His heart warmed at how adorable she was. It didn't make the moment worse though, in fact it made it better. Before she could do it herself, King Magnus reached out and removed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ears. Her emerald eyes stared up at him and in that moment, he knew he'd do anything just to make her happy.
His hand lightly skimmed her cheek and his fingers tingled with pleasure. Her cheeks turned rosy and he wanted to kiss her because she was so adorable. She looked down in embarrassment and he wanted to growl. She should never have to hide from him.
"What's your name, angel?" he said softly, his wolf desperately trying to make their voice as gentle as possible. He noticed her blush at his endearment.
"Rose. Rose Waldorf, s-sir," she stuttered slightly. He frowned at her formality. She was the only one who could ever be casual with him.
"I'm Roman," he said. He had never let anyone use his first name besides his parents, but he craved to hear his name on her lips.
She gracefully took the crown off her head and held it out for him. He simply shook his head and pushed it back to her chest gently. "Keep it." Even his own words surprised him. The woman in front of him was making him lovesick.
She looked shocked and shook her head slightly. "I couldn't possibly...We just met..." She mumbled to him. His lips quirked into a smile at her adorableness and for a moment he forgot he hadn't smiled in so long. Because with her, it felt as though they'd known each other all their lives.
"Please, angel. I insist," Roman said.
"O-Okay..." she said quietly.
"Rose!" Suddenly a voice snapped both of them out of the moment. Roman wanted to kill whoever interrupted his time with his beloved mate.
Rose gasped and spun around. "I'm coming, dad!" She half-shouted. Roman's posture relaxed at her words. It was only her father.
She turned around to face Roman and smiled at him. "It was nice meeting you. Thanks for the lovely crown," she almost whispered to him. Her eyes twinkled with an innocent happiness.
"Anytime, love," he replied dazedly, stuck staring into her eyes.
She stepped away from him and he resisted the urge to pull her back. His wolf growled at him, saying how his mate was too far away and needed their protection. He silently agreed but still did nothing about it. It was better that she didn't know for now.
He watched her walk away but stayed rooted in place. She turned back at him and yelled "Bye Roman!" before disappearing from view.
This time he growled aloud, not being able to contain the feelings she brought upon by saying his name.
But he still stood in place. A crownless King.
It was the perfect representation, however. Because in reality Rose held the highest position of them all. Yes, Roman was the Alpha King, but she was his mate. Anything she wanted he would gladly give. He was wrapped around her dainty fingers and she didn't even know it. She held the crown, she held the power.
For he was not a King without her.