BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 210: ROYAL ALLEGIANCE

Chapter 210: ROYAL ALLEGIANCE

{"We cannot enter into alliances until we are acquainted with the designs of our people"}

One day later, we assembled at the Royal army base beneath the central citadel deep within the heart of the Paradise Coven. The air was still and sharp with incense. Smoke coiled from silver braziers positioned in a circle around the open stone courtyard. Moonlight streamed through the high archways, pale and solemn, casting long shadows across armor and ash.

General. Commanders. Enforcers. Every rank of the Royal Guard stood in precise formation, lined row by row, the obsidian and crimson of their uniforms gleaming like bloodstone. I stood on the raised dais at the head of the circle, robes flowing in midnight blue, the ceremonial crown braided into my hair like a crown of starlight. Beside me, Nessa moved with deliberate grace, her robes quieter in colour but no less commanding. She kept her hands clasped, eyes scanning the assembled guard with a scrutiny sharper than a blade.

Captain Belisont stepped forward from the front line. "My Lady. All are assembled. We await your word."

I nodded, then lifted my gaze to the crowd. The courtyard held its breath.

"This is not a purge," I began, my voice ringing through the stone like a low chime. "This is clarity. In a time where shadows twist their way into every crack of this realm, we choose truth."

I stepped to the edge of the dais, looking into the eyes of the men and women I had fought beside for years. Some I knew by name. Others by the way they stood, Honor in the set of their spine, or treachery in the stillness of their hands.

"Lord Marcel believed fear could rule Paradise. We will not follow that path. If you stand here now and choose to remain within the Royal Guard, then you will kneel and swear by blood and will that your loyalty lies with this Coven... with me. If not, step aside now. There will be no shame in walking away. Only consequences if you lie."

For a long, breathless moment, nothing happened, and then the first soldier stepped forward. An enforcer, younger than most, eyes fierce with certainty. He knelt.

"I swear it," he said, voice steady. "To you, Lady Aurora. To Paradise Coven and its council members,"

Another followed. Then another. And another. Within minutes, the courtyard moved with rhythm, the thrum of boots, the murmured oath, the sharp breath of solemnity. Power laced the air, binding itself into each vow spoken.

And then one broke. A captain. I recognized him, Vallon, once loyal to Marcel before he hid in Bloodstone Mountain. His lips were pressed tight, arms crossed.

He did not kneel, and Nessa turned to him slowly. "Is there a reason you hesitate, Captain?"

His voice was calm. Too calm. "I serve the Coven. Not crowns."

I felt the shift before he moved, and a flick of the wrist was too fast. But Belisont was faster, his claws ripped across his neck and blood spluttered all over as he fell with a thud and held his neck as he gagged.

"Then you serve no one," Belisont growled.

I stepped down from the dais, slow and deliberate, until I was eye to eye with the man.

"You had your chance," I said softly. "You chose shadows."

Vallon’s mouth curved as he whispered. "Shadows always return."

I held his gaze, then gave a single nod to Belisont, and He was taken swiftly, without spectacle. But the message was carved into the stone now, etched into the bones of every soldier watching: We would not hesitate again, and I turned back to the others, lifting my hand.

"Continue." And one by one, they did.

The courtyard had emptied, the echo of armoured boots fading down stone corridors, leaving behind only the scent of incense and the lingering weight of what had just transpired. The oaths still echoed in my blood, like whispered promises inked in something deeper than magic.

Only five remained, and Captain Belisont stood at the base of the dais, his posture still rigid despite the late hour. The torches burned low behind him, casting amber flickers across his armor. Four others stood in a half-circle beside him, silent, waiting. He turned to me and offered a rare, quiet smile, a warrior’s nod of approval.

"My Lady," he said, beckoning them forward with a simple gesture. "Permit me to introduce the final shield of the Paradise Coven." The four stepped forward in unison, their movements crisp, practiced. Not even one of them broke formation, even as they dropped to one knee before me.

"This is General Gabriel," Belisont said, indicating the broad-shouldered man to the left. "He leads the strategic command of the Western Wall. No breach has occurred under his watch—not once."

Gabriel looked up briefly, steel-grey eyes meeting mine with the quiet confidence of a man who had seen war and walked away victorious. "My loyalty is yours, Lady Aurora," he said, voice low and grounded. "And my mind, should you need it."

I bowed my head in return. "I will call on both."

Belisont gestured to the man beside Gabriel—tall, wiry, with sharp features and a glint of calculation in his eyes. "Commander Brandyn, eastern operations and border intelligence. He sees before others blink."

Brandyn gave a slight smirk as he met my gaze. "I have already begun tracking rogue movements along the Crescent border. Marcel’s blood trail is not as cold as he thinks."

"Keep your eyes open," I said. "But keep your loyalty closer."

He nodded. "Always."

Next was a woman with pale skin and storm-dark eyes still as winter, but with something coiled beneath the surface. "Enforcer Echo," Belisont said. She leads the internal security task force. If there are whispers, she will hear them. If there are knives in the dark... she will catch them before they find your back." Echo did not speak, but her gaze held mine for a long moment. There was something deeply old in her silence. A vow, even unspoken. I bowed to her, too, out of respect and acknowledgment.

And lastly, the youngest Royal Guard, Deverell. Broad-shouldered, golden-haired, and brimming with an energy I had not seen since before the first war. "Deverell leads the frontline defence of the Inner Court," Belisont said, a touch of pride in his voice. "He’s green, but fierce and utterly unshakable."

"I may be young, Lady," Deverell said with a lopsided grin, "but I have already bled for Paradise once. I will do it again, and gladly."

I smiled then. "Let us hope it does not come to that. But I will not doubt your promise."

Belisont stepped back, placing a fist over his heart. "These are the four pillars. Together, they will hold the Coven’s gates. And if needed, die with them shut."

A hush fell over the stone, and I looked at each of them, one by one. "I don’t want you to die for me," I said. "I want you to live with me. To build a future that does not require sacrifice at every turn. But if war comes, if the shadows breach our walls, I will not run."

They straightened, and I saw it there in their faces and faith and not just in me but in each other.

"Then we’ll stand with you," General Gabriel said quietly, "until the last breath."

"Thank you so much. Let me introduce you. This is Nessa Leora, the deputy in command of the Paradise coven and my mate. "I pointed at Nessa.

They all bowed at her, and she bowed in return and spoke up, "Thank you for standing with Aurora. I promise to stand by you as you stand by her. "

Hours later, we finally crossed the threshold of home.

Not the towering council halls or the echoing stone sanctuaries of leadership, but home. A place where silence was soft, not expectant. Where shadows were gentle, not threatening. Where I could just... exhale.

The door clicked shut behind us, and Nessa dropped her boots without ceremony, letting them clatter across the polished floor. I followed suit, every inch of my body aching from being braced too long mind taut from the endless weight of command. We did not speak as we made our way to the living room, and the couch welcomed us like an old friend, soft and familiar. I collapsed into it with a sigh that might have belonged to someone twice my age, and Nessa curled up beside me, arm over my waist, face pressed gently into my shoulder.

We lay there in the dim glow of the hearth, breathing coordinated, hearts gradually slowing. The stillness between us was the kind that only came from deep, worn-in knowing. From battles shared, from nights spent planning, from decisions we never wanted to make but always had to.

And then— "I never expected being a leader would be so much damn work," Nessa mumbled against my collarbone.

I snorted, too tired to even lift my head. "Oh? You thought it came with a crown, a wine goblet, and fan service?"

"No," she murmured, voice lilting with teasing, "but I at least expected a nap occasionally. Or a foot massage."

I laughed, then truly laughed, the kind that cracked through exhaustion and let light in. "We should’ve stayed bartenders," I said. "Good tips, bad music, and no vampire armies."

"You’d have made a terrible bartender," she said, smirking. "You’d get in a fistfight with the first drunk who asked if your fangs were real."

"They are real," I said defensively.

Nessa just chuckled, softer now. "I know, darling. I love them. Especially when you bite my—"

"Nessa," I warned, grinning despite myself.

She kissed my jaw, light as a breath. "Just keeping things interesting, my lady."

We lay there a while longer, tangled together beneath a blanket that smelled faintly of lavender and old books. No war. No council. No politics or posturing. Just the beat of her heart against mine, and the quiet knowledge that at least for now we were safe. In the flickering firelight, I closed my eyes and let myself forget, just for a moment, that the world outside still trembled.

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