5 Chapter 5 : To Love And Lose

~SINCLAIR~

"It's an ancient prophecy," Alaric said. "You were destined to die without a mate."

That was a rather kind way of putting it.

Alpha de Noir was destined to destroy himself with his own hands. Reincarnations were taken seriously. His more than others, because his own destiny directly influenced the rest of the lupine Realm. And his wolf was destined to rule over the Inlands with an iron-fist till he self-destructed. Living without a mate was just an unfortunate by-product, the icing on top of the cake.

"So it's a good thing you didn't kill her," Alaric finished, as though that was supposed to make everything better. Sin quickened his pace, watching detachedly as Inlanders fell over themselves in bows as he passed.

He didn't usually pass the middle of his city without a proper vehicle, but today was an exception. Today, he was in over his head, confused and desperate.

"I felt it," he finally said to Alaric. "Something shifted in me when I first saw her, but I didn't let it grow. I killed it. And now, she hates me. The Inlanders would hate me if they knew how I treated their Queen. I f*cking hate myself."

Alaric flopped helplessly for something to say, but there was no use. "Don't blame yourself. It's the prophecy."

Sin didn't care about the f*cking prophecy. He should have known. He should have risen above it. "You know, I never used to mind much that my life was pre-ordered for me before I even knew my alphabet. I didn't mind that while the rest of the world own wolves, I own a f*cking daemon. A cursed wolf. But f*ck this. I'm not going to let the gods ruin this for me, too. I'm not."

Alaric fairly trembled as he walked, wrapped in the aftermath of his King's anger. But Sin didn't care. At least, not till the old man said, "Alpha, you're lucky you found her in the first place. Let her go before you make the fates angry."

Sin refused to waste a snarl on Alaric. "Let me make something clear. My daemon does not determine what goes or what stays. I do. I decide whether to kill or not, whether to spare or spoil."

"You didn't mind it before that you'd die without a mate," Alaric retorted, mounting panic in his voice. And it wasn't a lie. When Sin was a young wolf of eighteen moons that just heard he would amass all the power of the world, but at the cost of a mate, he hadn't cared.

Gods, he'd thought it was a fair trade off.

"That was because I didn't know her," he growled. "I didn't know she smelled like f*cking vanilla oil. I didn't know she looked like sunlight and magick and—" He broke off, realizing he was sounding crazy, even by his own standards. "We have work to do. Don't bother me by telling me what you know I won't do."

He walked into the field he'd been alerted of, finding almost half of the Inlanders hovering around a group of kneeling bodies. On closer inspection, Sin realized these were his dungeon Keepers. Kneeling in front of the Inlanders.

He frowned. "What is going on here?" And just like that, every Inlander in the vicinity was on their knees. There was nothing to do about it. His people's wolves were terrified of his.

The Head Keeper was quick to announce, voice clear and succinct the way Sin taught them. "We're keeping ourselves here as tribute to the Queen."

Ah. Sin knew where this was going. But like the masochist he was, he barked, "Explain."

"We've committed a transgression of immeasurable heights to the Queen. Now that she has come awake, we'll stay here till she's strong enough to punish us. And if she wants us killed, we'll gladly give our lives for her forgiveness."

The Luna dynamic was a mysterious thing. Sinclair had seen how these people worshiped his Mam. It was clear that they were eager to do the same with his mate.

Even the Head Keeper, who only a month ago, gave Vannie a backhand that broke her skin.

Remembering that of all things in this situation made him tremble with rage, but Sinclair was no hypocrite. If he let these men stay here till Vannie was ready to handle them, then he'd have to join in on the tribute. Because for f*ck's sake, he was the one who ordered them to do what they did.

"The Queen is resting," he said vaguely, hearing the tremor in his own voice. If he thought kneeling with his men would win Vannie's forgiveness, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He'd make every Inlander go to their knees and foreheads just to see her happy for one day.

"Get up. All of you."

The Keepers wanted to keep that position. But more than that, they couldn't disobey a direct order from the King, so one by one, they came to their feet. Avoiding his gaze didn't hide the guilt and loathing they felt for themselves.

"There's no use beating about the bush. The Queen may very well never want to see us. She may not want to rule by my side. She may hate being forced to stay here till the day she takes her last breath."

He knew he was not the only one that felt this crushing despair. His people had been doing alright without a female hand, but now that they knew it was near and had been near all along, they wanted it as badly as he wanted it.

He'd denied his people a Luna for too long.

And Sin had thought he'd known what guilt felt like.

Now, it was a f*cking tsunami. A burst of emotion so fierce, he couldn't even think of controlling it.

The itching under his skin began again and started to clog his throat. Gods, he needed to get out of there.

"Whatever she decides, we have to be ready for it. The Queen doesn't owe us anything, even if we wail from now till next year. What she gives us, no matter how little, we have to be ready to live with. We've ruined too much already. I've ruined too much."

He turned his back and began to walk before he could hear whatever would or wouldn't be said, the weight of the world on his shoulders.