The Return of the King
The next day, the line of citizens wanting to see the Alpha was just as long as it had been the day before. Hell, some had slept out there to keep their place in line.
Ajax was dreading the work ahead, and the lack of having a partner of any kind to help him.
This. Sucked.
He sat in bed next to Lara who was still knocked out, and thought about all of his life's choices, and how the hell he ended up here (in a good way). He was born as nothing - a throw away....and ended up being a royal. It made him hate Meta's--er--his father even more than previously.
He hated knowing that the late King was his father. The male was so cruel, and so set in his ways that he was easily manipulated by a half-brother. Ajax took in a long inhale of breath in order to try to give himself motivation to get out of bed.
He didn't even know what time it was.
"Mother fucker..." the cranky Prince muttered and looked at the darkness of the room that was cut only by two small lanterns posted at the door that glowed dimly.
"Lara, you really gotta wake up. I'm dying here..." Ajax begged and looked to his sleeping mate with sadness.
"Or you, Metas. One of you -- hell, Myranda would also be great. Anyone...."
Nothing.
"Yeah, don't all get up at once...." he grumbled.
Just as he pulled the covers off of himself, both Metas and Lara jolted awake as though they broke away from a very, very bad dream.
It was so surprising, that it caused Ajax to fall onto the floor, and right smack-dab on his face.
"Oh Goddesses.... Oh Goddesses..." Lara panted and put one hand to her heart, and the other to her belly. Relieved, she began to sob.
Metas just stared forward as though he were still in a trans, or trying to figure out whatever he had just seen.
"Ow..." Ajax let out, but immediately got up to check on his mate. "Lara!" He didn't waste time - he wrapped his arms around her tightly, and snuggled into her white hair.
"Ajax," she uttered out in a warble as she returned his affection.
It was as though Metas weren't even there. They hemmed and hawed over one another, despite the fact that Metas still hadn't said a word, or even moved. Their hands were on each other's faces, and tears were shed. It was beautiful to them.
It was painful for Metas, who wasn't sure what to do. Myranda wasn't awake. He knew Lara would make it - because they had met in the ether of their collective dreams.
...but his wife... He never found her. He at least was with Ajax for a while until he lost him in the fog, but no matter how much he shouted for her, he couldn't hear her, or see her.
The Alpha didn't want or need his first act as King to cry. If his feelings were correct (and they were), today was going to be the busiest and hardest day of his life. It was a shame his mate wasn't going to be there at his side, and that he couldn't lay back down to stay with her.
The large male had ready too much about war to know that he could rest on his laurels. It was time to work. He wanted his older brother and best friend to have their moment. He knew exactly how it felt to feel invisible to everyone, or vice versa.
So he kissed his wife's forehead, got up, and left the room quietly. He knew that she would awaken when she was ready- plus, she had always seemed to be a heavy sleeper.
He tried to get his mind off of the subject by making his way to the royal bedroom for a shower. He hoped he would be lucky and avoid anyone's eyes - but his luck had run out, and Jhinto looked to the Alpha's eyes and smiled. "Sire, you've awaken. I was just coming to check on you."
Metas was grateful for the old male, but he was also very, very grumpy - and he wanted, nay, he needed a shower.
"How was your experience? Would you mind telling me? It's for research, and for historical purposes, I assure you." The mage asked delightfully. (Did this guy ever sleep?)
"Yes- but later. I need shower, and then take throne...." Metas groaned and spoke more broken than he usually did, because he brain was not braining. In fact, he still felt like he was in a haze like the dream he was having...or..dreams...
"Ah, of course, your highness. I apologize." Jhinto replied and gave a soft bow.
"Please check on Lara, she woke up - and needs attention due to condition....and check the Queen. She is still asleep." Metas managed to request through his yawn and stretch.
"At once, my Alpha." The seasoned male smiled and giddily went on his way. For someone with such power and knowledge about the worst of wolfkind, he sure did have a joyful heart.
Metas admired that, and made a mental note to adopt that sort of attitude in order to keep the future bright. After all, he had seen what being grumpy and resentful had done to his best royal friend, Vincent - and the lycan wanted absolutely nothing to do with that sort of sour disposition.
In fact, he was going to start right now.
Myranda was going to wake up.
Today was going to be a good day.
....and he was going to smile even at the most foul souls.
It was the only way he was going to win over their populace, and if he couldn't get a few wayward souls, fine. Fuck 'em. No one has a 100% approval rate, and that was a good thing. Detractors made life more interesting.
His thoughts rolled on as he ascended the stairway towards the master bedroom, but all thoughts ceased once he opened the door and smelled Harbinger's scent thick in the air.
Immediately, he snorted out and shook his head -- and after getting over the shock of the smell, he made his way in.
His shower was not satisfying, but it was refreshing. He was clean, but he was not full of joy. Myranda would have done that for him...but that wasn't something to think about right now.
No, he had something more important on his agenda --- regaining his territory.
Once his mortal skin had been scrubbed, the Alpha King morphed into his wolf fur and soaked himself to the bone, making sure to really get that musty dog-smell up.
When he felt ready, he got out of the stone enclosure of water, and immediately shook his coat all over the bathroom, and then zipped into the royal chambers and dragged and rolled his body all over the carpet, bed, and furniture.
If he started to feel too dry, he went back and coated himself in more water, and made sure to roll onto his back and wriggled in spots that were far more 'stinky' than others.
He wouldn't be satisfied until the last remaining remnants of the dead General were completely wiped away.