The Forbidden Wolf King: Kings of Avalier, Book 4(63)

The moments ticked by and then finally two men rode through the open gates, each atop a horse.

One was General Ibsen and the other was a man whom I assumed to be the new king of Nightfall. As he neared, I took him in. He sat tall and was muscular. More than the elves, less than the wolven. His dark wavy hair fell in a stylish quiff to his sharp chin and his eyes were dark hazel. I was pleased to see that they held a kindness that his mother’s had lacked. It was hard to deny how handsome he was.

He stepped down off his horse and stood before all eight of us. He wore metallic battle armor with the Nightfall crest; it was clean and looked unused. It was clear he hadn’t been on the battlefield lately and was probably only wearing it as a formality. He glanced once at his mother’s head on the spike but I saw no emotion there. Either he was good at hiding it, or he simply didn’t care that she’d died.

Bowing his head deeply with respect, he met our gazes. “I am Prince Callen. I am told that my mother has been killed and we have surrendered in the war.”

He was all business and tough exterior, showing no emotion, which I respected.

Drae stepped forward: we had agreed he would speak on our behalf. “You are King Callen now. If you want it. We only require that you sign a one-hundred-year peace treaty to never start war with our realms again.”

Callen seemed to consider Drae’s words, peering around at his mother’s loyal warriors who stood on the outskirts of our conversation. “And if I don’t sign it?” he asked.

Okay, that wasn’t a good sign.

“Then we kill you and move to the next heir in your line of succession until one agrees.”

Callen looked like he’d expected that. “Right then, shall we take this negotiation inside?” he asked with a flick of his eyebrows.

There was something in his face. Something that said he had more to say but didn’t want to speak in front of his mother’s warriors.

Drae inclined his head. “It’s not a negotiation, but sure.”

With that, Axil and I led the way into the castle which had been cleared of his people and was now crawling with ours. A wolven warrior stood at the opening of every hall and doorway.

When Callen entered the castle, he moved to go to the dining room but I pulled out a hand to stop him.

“You’re not going to want to see what’s in there.”

Your mother’s headless body, I wanted to say.

Dawning realization played out on his face and he moved away from that door and to another. We stepped inside and found ourselves in a large study with a sparse desk and one chair behind it.

Callen moved behind the desk and sat in the chair as we all fanned out around it. Kailani closed the door.

Once we were in the private space, Callen let out a long sigh. “I apologize for my apparent reluctance to sign this treaty. I had to play coy for my mother’s loyalists.”

Drae nodded. “So you’ll sign the treaty?”

Callen brushed his fingers through his hair. “Of course. But I might not live through the night if I do. My mother was an extremist, she and I didn’t agree on anything. Her men are loyal to her ideals.” His hands shook a little and my heart softened. He was genuinely fearful for his life, that much was clear.

“Do you have your own army?” Drae asked him.

He reached up to rub his temples. “I would hardly call them an army. I have twenty loyal men at a fort about one hour’s ride east of here.”

Drae shared a look with Lucien who dipped his head in agreement. Lucien glanced at Axil and Raife, and then it was as if they all shared some unspoken understanding.

Drae cleared his throat. “Sign the treaty now and we will keep three hundred of our men posted here until you can transition over to new leadership. You’ll have to weed out who is loyal to your mother’s ideals and who would best serve you.”

Callen stilled, his mouth opening in shock. “You would do that?”

“We want this to be a lasting peace and will invest whatever it takes to do that,” Raife added.

It was a great idea and would be more lasting if he could dispose of his mother’s loyalists.

Callen looked over at the elf king and swallowed hard. “I’m … sorry for what my mother has done to your families and your people.”

An apology? I hadn’t expected that. These types of takeovers were usually fraught with tension.

“Were you close with her?” I asked, trying to gauge how this normal and seemingly kind human came from her.

He barked out a laugh. “She wasn’t capable of closeness. Or love. No, me and my brothers each stayed with her until we were seven. Then we were sent away to live elsewhere and raised by a nanny. None of us share a father. She just wanted heirs to continue her bloodline. My eldest brother was the only one she was close with and he’s dead.”

My heart tightened then. Only with his mother until seven and then on his own? It was horrible and I thought of Oslo in that moment and how young and sweet he was at seven. He’d needed so much love and reassurance then.

“Will your other brothers try to take over?” Raife asked. I could sense the concern in his voice now too.

Callen let out a shaky breath. “I … honestly don’t know. We aren’t close. She kept us apart. I doubt anyone wants the responsibility. We all have our own lands to manage and are all independently wealthy. We have no desire to rule a kingdom.”