Alpha Nocturne's Contracted Mate

398 When The Time Comes

Bartholomew crossed the courtyard at dawn, his cloak damp with mist. He paused at the threshold of Ann's office before entering, his bow sharp but not distant.

"My queen," he said quietly. "First, my condolences for your father."

Ann's hand stilled on the supply list she was reviewing. She looked up, and for a moment her eyes softened. "Thank you, Bartholomew."

Brad, standing near the door, stepped forward before the silence could grow heavy. "The full account will be released after the war. For now, the King lies at rest in the Temple of Selene. The priestesses of the Sisterhood are tending him until the state funeral can be held."

Bartholomew inclined his head.

"As it should be." He said, saying nothing more on the subject and shifting instead to business.

"They're dug in," he said. "The Lycan King's forces have pulled back to their stronghold. Unfortunately, a siege looks inevitable."

Brad swore under his breath. Eva didn't stop writing, her fingers flying across the tablet as she logged every word.

Ann didn't flinch. "Then we make it fast. Every supply, every reinforcement, every ounce of silver to the front. WhateverAdam needs, we build it. If he needs fire, we send fire. Can we send reinforcements to cut off the enemies supply routes?"

Bartholomew shook his head.

"Ely's creatures don't need food the way men do. They're chained to command words and sustained by magick. The kingdom will starve before Ely's creatures do."

Ann's jaw tightened.

"Then we take them down before that happens."

Bartholomew leaned forward and his voice dropped.

"That's not the worst of it."

He slid a folded note across the desk and Ann read it in silence: spoiled food, missing shipments, watch orders rewritten without prior approval from the command. At the bottom, one more line: outer ward fire, deliberate.

Her hand flattened on the desk, but her voice stayed calm.

"How far has it gone?"

"Far enough," Bartholomew said. "Supplies disappear faster than we can count them. Food spoils with no sign of rot until it's opened. Wagons are delayed, and no one admits to giving the order. Last night, half a watch abandoned their post at the same time the fire started."

Eva looked up, eyes sharp.

"Sabotage?!"

"Sabotage," Bartholomew confirmed. "And it points back to the same name we've circled before."

Ann's jaw clenched. She said nothing.

The noble spread whispers constantly seeking to undermine Ann and test how far he could go while Adam was gone. He thought her too wounded, too heavy with heirs, to strike back, but he was wrong.

She folded the note and pushed it back.

"Keep your eyes on him but don't spook him. When he thinks he has the upper hand, I want him to smile."

"He's not just bold, he's stupid. Let him keep pushing,because the moment you turn on him, he won't even have time to scream." Maeve's snarl tore through her mind.

Bartholomew straightened, then paused.

"There's more. Better news, this time."

Ann raised a brow. "Go on."

"I've been moving quietly among the enclave and reaching out to some of those who were hidden. Families thought gone…you know they've been hiding. Scattered but some of them were waiting as well.

"And now?"

"And now they're ready," Bartholomew said. "I told them the truth. The final battle is coming. If they want vengeance for the years stolen from them, if they want their children to inherit more than silence, then they need to step forward and act now."

Ann felt the significance of it almost immediately.

Forgotten bloodlines clawing their way out of history to face the same enemy.

The word was sent out to prepare for their arrival. By midday, the throne room was prepared and quarters assigned should they choose to stay. By nightfall, they arrived.

Cloaked figures filed in, one after another, carrying crests no one had seen in at least a generation. Some leaned on canes. Others walked in proudly, but they all moved as families, not envoys. They were parents and children, whose lines refused to be lost.

When the first knelt, the rest followed. The sound of knees hitting stone accompanied voices that pledged warriors, healers, silver, and secrets hoarded for decades.

Gasps rippled through the court. Nobles who had whispered against Ann stood frozen, confronted by ghosts of bloodlines they had thought were erased.

"No..that's not possible! That house was extinguished…" one noble stammered, his face going pale before Coral cut him off with a glare sharp enough to slice.

One cloaked figure lingered at the back, hood never lowered. She did not step forward, but Bartholomew's glance toward Ann was subtle but clear. She gave the smallest nod.

Ann dismissed the court soon after. Nobles filed out with stiff spines, refugees with wide grins and only when the chamber emptied did Bartholomew guide the cloaked figure into a smaller room off the hall.

There, the hood came down.

Ann had never seen the woman before, but Bartholomew spoke first. "This is Greyson's mother."

Ann's breath caught. Greyson, Allen, and Lexi… missing since the night they were stolen from Brad's pack, and dragged into the dark by Greyson's twisted older brothers. Even now, the Daemon Lord Brarthroroz scoured the realms for them. And here before her stood the mother Greyson had thought long dead.

The woman's voice was low but steady.

"I hid because I had no choice. If the Lycan King had found me, he would have used me to break my sons. Better that they believed me dead than for him to hold me as a chain around their necks. Greyson would have stopped at nothing for revenge if anything happened.."

Ann pressed her hand to her belly, grounding herself.

"You fled with both boys, I remember. Bartholomew told me the story of how you came to be hidden."

"Yes. Greyson, and my youngest." Her voice roughened. "Greyson grew strong. But my youngest was only a child when Ely's men came, we had no choice but to leave and hide again. Greyson was safe and protected, but us…no. So we left."

"And his brother? Where is he now?" Ann asked gently and she hesitated a moment, sharing a look with Bartholomew before sighing heavily. "He's safe.but currently is unable to join us."

Ann studied her. Greyson's mother, alive when her son believed her buried, when the court had erased her name from memory.

"You've lived in the shadows all these years," Ann said softly and the woman's jaw tensed slightly.

"I had to. But, living in the shadows doesn't win wars and I want to be able to reclaim my birthright and return to my ancestral lands.The King..he's destroyed so much of our homeland in his madness…I want to help to see it put right."

Ann nodded gently.

"And what do you want from us? How can we help?"

"Let me stand with you." She said simply, "Help bridge the gap between Greyson and I when he returns so that I can mend whatever wounds remain…or at least try.His brother…"

She broke off again and hung her head for a moment before lifting to hold Ann's gaze.

"He is different, your highness. Touched, somehow. Without help…"

Ann inclined her head and smiled.

"If Bartholomew thinks it can be done, then you have a place here and many skilled hands to help in whatever way that we can. You can remain hidden here, safe in the royal quarters that my father was secluded in. It's safe from prying eyes there. But when the time comes…"

The woman cut in, her voice determined.

"When the time comes, I will stand in the open and take back what should never have been taken in the first place."