
                                                                                        <div> Chapter 38: Where’s the Queen?
<p> Back in Dravengard, the Queen’s Blessing Ceremony had begun at exactly eleven o’ clock, under a wide, cloudless sky. The grand temple square in Dravengard was packed with Lycans—elders in long silver robes, farmers in their best tunics, children holding woven baskets of grain and wildflowers. Soft drums rolled in the background while a group of young singers performed an ancient hymn about soil and rain and new life.
</p><p> The air smelled of fresh earth, incense, and the faint smoke from the small ritual fires burning at each corner of the raised platform. This was the heart of the Queen’s Blessing Ceremony. Hundreds of pack members had gathered in the open-air plaza, making merry.
</p><p> It was a beautiful display of culture, but Derek felt none of the joy. He sat in the high-backed chair reserved for the King, his posture straight, hands resting calmly on the carved arms. He wore a deep navy ceremonial coat with silver embroidery that caught the sun every time he moved. To anyone watching, he looked composed, regal, and in complete control.
</p><p> Inside, he felt a slow, tight coil of irritation. His eyes flicked to his wristwatch again. 12:30. The ceremony had started over an hour ago, and Kira was not here. He scanned the crowd once more. No small figure with brunette hair, hazel eyes and that stubborn lift to her chin. Nothing.
</p><p> The elders were already seated in a semi-circle behind him, their long white robes pooling around their feet. They were whispering among themselves, but Derek didn’t care to listen in. He knew what they were talking about. The Queen was supposed to be here even before the ceremony started and interact with the farmers. Every Lycan knew this rule.
</p><p> This ceremony wasn’t just a tradition; it was a test of the Queen’s respect for the land and the people.
</p><p> Nana, sitting in the seat of honour beside him in her elder’s robe of pale grey, leaned closer. Her voice was low, and meant only for him. "Drek," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the dancers. "Where is she? The farmers have already brought the first baskets of seed. They are waiting for her touch to begin the planting season. It is not good to keep the earth waiting."
</p><p> Derek tightened his jaw. Leo was pacing, claws scratching at the edges of his control. "She is likely just finishing her preparations, Nana. She will be here."
</p><p> Nana’s brows lifted slightly. "She should have been here from the start. The first blessing is meant to come from her hands."
</p><p> "I know the tradition," he said quietly. "She is on her way."
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                                </div><p> Nana studied him for a moment longer, then settled back in her seat without another word. But Derek felt the weight of her silence. The pack was watching. The elders were watching. And every minute that passed without Kira made the absence louder.
</p><p> He rose from the throne, his sudden movement drawing the eyes of the front-row spectators. He stepped off the dais and walked toward the shadowed corner of the stone pillars, away from the prying ears of the elders.
</p><p> He pulled his phone from his coat pocket and dialled Kira’s number. Pick up, Kira, he thought, his brow furrowing. Don’t do this today. Not in front of everyone. After a few seconds, it cut to voicemail.
</p><p> ’Hi, I’m Kira, I love you, but I’m not available right now. Leave me a message instead and I’ll get back ASAP.’
</p><p> He ended it without leaving a message and dialled again. The call went to voicemail. Again.
</p><p> He dialled again. Same result. His anger began to simmer, a hot, liquid heat under his skin. Was she doing this on purpose? Was this her way of protesting the marriage? To humiliate him in front of his entire pack by leaving him standing at the altar of the ancestors alone?
</p><p> He was about to dial Connor and demand to know why the Queen wasn’t here yet when a familiar black vehicle skidded to a halt at the edge of the temple plaza. Derek’s shoulders eased a fraction—then stiffened again when only Connor stepped out.
</p><p> No Kira.
</p><p> The Gamma looked disoriented. His hair was messy, and he was blinking rapidly, rubbing his eyes as if he had just crawled out of a deep grave. He stumbled slightly as he walked toward Derek, looking half-asleep and completely confused.
</p><p> "Your Grace," Connor started, his voice thick and groggy. He stopped a few feet away, bowing his head. "I am so incredibly sorry. I... I don’t know what happened. I lay down for a moment and I must have over-slept. I’ve never done that before, I swear—"
</p><p> Derek didn’t let him finish. He stepped into Connor’s personal space, his shadow looming over the man. "Where is she, Connor?"
</p><p> Connor blinked. "Where is who?"
</p><p> "The Queen."
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                                </div><p> Connor looked past Derek at the empty space on the throne. "I... I thought she was already here. When I finally woke up and saw the time, I rushed to the private quarters, but her room was empty. I assumed she had already left with one of the drivers."
</p><p> The air in Derek’s lungs turned to ice. "You assumed?" The growl that left Derek’s throat was low and dangerous. He grabbed the lapel of Connor’s jacket, his strength nearly lifting the man off his toes. "You are her primary bodyguard. I pay you an extra fortune to guard her, Connor. Not to assume. Not to sleep through your shift. Not to lose track of the woman who is supposed to be under your protection every second she is outside my sight. You are responsible for her safety and her presence here!"
</p><p> "I’m sorry, Your Grace," Connor stammered, his face pale. "I checked the palace. She wasn’t there. I thought she was being dutiful and came early—"
</p><p> "Enough!" Derek snapped, shoving Connor back.
</p><p> He looked back at the plaza. The dancers were finishing their final set. The lead elder was already standing up, holding a ceremonial bowl of water. The crowd was starting to murmur. The hush of the ceremony was being replaced by the buzzing sound of gossip.
</p><p> "Go back," Derek commanded, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and a sudden, sharp spike of anxiety he didn’t want to admit to. "Find her. I don’t care if she’s in the middle of a bath or a breakdown. You have three minutes to get her to this temple. The ritual to bless the crops is about to begin. If she isn’t here to touch those seeds, the farmers will see it as a curse on their harvest."
</p><p> "Yes, Your Grace. Right away," Connor said. He turned and sprinted back toward his car, his movements still slightly sluggish.
</p><p> As the SUV roared away, Derek felt a presence behind him. He turned to find Ruby standing there. She looked perfect. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek, professional bun, and her outfit was impeccable. But her face was masked with worry. She curtsied quickly, her chest heaving as if she had been running.
</p><p> "Your Grace," she breathed, her eyes darting toward the elders. "The elders are asking. The farmers are in position at the base of the stairs. It is time for the Queen to perform the blessing. We cannot delay the Moon’s timing."
</p><p> She paused, looking around Derek as if searching for someone. When she looked back at him, her eyebrows rose in a look of stunned disbelief. "Where is the Queen?" she asked.</p></div>
                

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Chapter 38: Where’s the Queen?

Chapter 38: Where’s the Queen? Back in Dravengard, the Queen’s Blessing Ceremony had begun at exactly eleven o’ clock, under a wide, cloudless sky. The grand temple square in Dravengard was packed with Lycans—elders in long silver robes, farmers in their best tunics, children holding woven baskets of grain and wildflowers. Soft drums rolled in the background while a group of young singers performed an ancient hymn about soil and rain and new life. The air smelled of fresh earth, incense, and...

Defying the Lycan King

Chapter 38: Where’s the Queen?

Defying the Lycan King - Chapter 38: Where’s the Queen?