There were stories River had come to hear as a child, stories of the rogue woman who won over the heart of a cruel king. Stories of a rogue who utilized her sexual appeal to reel in a desperate and mourning king in need of a fling. Stories of an evil king who enlisted the aid of an assassin to murder his pregnant wife. These were just some of the exaggerated and twisted stories River grew up hearing as a child. 

The truth was entangled in the bias stories he was told by those who cared for him, raising him up for the life he would live. Caregivers would be caught lingering with one another, whispering their own opinions on River's parents to the other, spreading rumors. Keva was one of the few who lay out the facts to River, displaying the timeline of events and the solid truths from the stories River had come to learn of. 

Yet his own two parents, the two who the stories were about and influenced River's childhood, they were two individuals who seemed hesitant to retell the story to their son - the son they had given up to be raised by the elf who would eventually betray him. All of this only furthered the resentment River came to feel for his parents. For all they had fought for, for the magic to be preformed to bring Sybil back to life to start over on the family Zion wanted, all those two had fought for...they did not fight for their own flesh and blood. 

The simple stone cottage was what River did not expect to find beyond the wall of thick evergreen trees which sheltered the dwelling from the world. With a Tudor style to the small cottage, the dark green painted door of the house was marked with a simple symbol under the brass handle. The symbol of his father's family - the crest of the royal family before the kingdom's fall. 

With two short knocks at the door, River was unable to pinpoint how he felt in this moment. An endless stream of emotions fell over the past alpha, flooding the man as he told himself it was just nerves. Yet he also wondered after today, after the next coming weeks when Leala would take the throne and he would help build the new kingdom, River wondered if this would be the last time he would see his parents. 

A petite woman with brunette locks pulled the door open, her watering eyes glancing up to the golden eyes of her son. As the woman put her hands forward, her arms opening up to welcome her son, River stood still in the moment. A dry throat and tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, River remained silent and still as Sybil embraced her son in a gentle and warm hug. It had been months since she had last looked upon her son - last talked with her son. A part of her thought he had died in the battle against Keva when she heard that the battle was underway. 

Golden eyes glowed in the shadow of the entrance, looking past the shoulder of his wife and into the identical eyes Zion's son shared. "We are not here to argue. To pull you away from the track you have set yourself on."

"It was not my desire to become the man you wanted me to be," River spoke, no longer scared to speak. "It was never my destiny." 

"It was a choice-"

"It was a choice I never wanted," River interrupted, noticing his mother pull away and back into the entrance of the house. "You do not deserve the right to tell me the choices I had or even now have. You had the choice to stay with me or to even take me and run across the world with me."

"No child deserves a life of hiding from the world," Sybil softly spoke. Zion took a step forward, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist. "From being hunted."

"I still must hide who I am from the world." River glanced to his father. "I still must run from my identity."

Zion rolled back his shoulders. "And what does this new queen of yours know?"

"She knows of the truth. We both know the truths of our family bloodlines. Yet she was able to grow into that person...into the Maxwell name." River looked back to his mother. "But we make no progress casting insults here."

"Are you here to tell us to leave?"

"I am here to understand why now out of my entire life do you bother to move closer to where I am. To setup shop for however long you desire in a kingdom which you no longer claim. To be close to a son you let become raised by elves." 

Sybil invited her son in, the three of them entering into the simple kitchen where a table with four chairs stood before a set of windows. They each took a seat. 

"So why now? Why seem mildly interested?"

"There are years we will never get back," Zion admitted, glancing outside. "Regardless of the past, we at least want to be there for your future."

"You wish to know what becomes of me in a forming kingdom. Perhaps you believe you can convince me to become king and overthrow Leala. Perhaps that you can-"

"It is not secret to us the role you will take in her reign - of lover, advisor, and then king."

River clicked his tongue, understanding just what his parents had come so close for. Still in their selfish behavior, still lurking in their son's shadow in hopes that Zion's bloodline would return to power with influence. 

"I am sorry to have somehow gotten your hopes up through whatever whispers you hear from whoever your informative is. But you are mislead, for there is no child on the way." The chair squeaked back as River rose to his feet within a split second. "There is nothing set in stone that I will even be the one she marries. There is still time left and I am in no rush. I am not going to apply extra and unneeded pressure." 

No argument came of River's parents, allowing River to know his assumption was correct: that Sybil and Zion believed a grandchild to be in the making, a grandchild which they would love to influence over the years. No doubt this was the thinking of Zion and not Sybil. No doubt his parents were not here to make peaceful ties with their son to fix the years behind them - no - for they were here with hopes set to setup meetings with a fictional grandchild. 

"I was told stories as a child. Many stories which depicted your love as crooked or perfectly romantic. It is a shame I have come to see what love really is to the two of you. To come to see that fairytales are really just fictional and true love like that only exists in stories." 

Sybil's eyes fell to the floor, staring off into space almost as Zion placed a hand on his wife's leg. "No one has the right to assume what our love is. Love is different to everyone."

"The love I have for Leala is nothing like what you have for one another," River spat, watching the eyes of his father darken. "I wish you both well. Perhaps we may meet once more. Perhaps this is the last we speak to one another."

"Is there no other way? No other way to speak with our son? River, all we ever wanted for you was a blossoming future," Sybil cried, tears running down her fair face. 

"I have a blossoming future ahead of myself - one not shaped by your opinions and decisions - but one I hope to shape with Leala Maxwell." 

It was in his rage that River did not notice just how quickly he had transported himself from the kitchen of his parent's cottage to the driveway where his car was parked. He could hear Zion yelling after him, snapping his name, and cursing the name of Leala Maxwell. 

River spun around on his heel, looking his distant father in the eye. "Leala Maxwell is the next Queen - the very Queen who rules over the land you have decided to dwell within. You are lucky she does not wipe every trace of you from her kingdom like you would have to her if you were still in power." River bit his tongue, fighting off a slew of insults, yet one slipped his tongue. "The stories I heard, so many of them depicted you as a strong and wise king, but all I see of you is a fallen king desperate and scrambling for any amount of power. Perhaps begging even." 

"What makes you any different?" Zion snapped. "You begged your little slut for power. You fucked your way to the right hand of the queen!" 

River's eyes turned black, fighting the urge to shift and attack his own flesh and blood. "The difference is I fought for her respect and asked nothing. I am loyal to her. I would die for her and not betray her like some sly fox. I have lost so much and worked hard to get to where I am. I owe much of that to that slut. And that slut will be the woman I marry not because I want to wear a crown, but because I want to grow old with her."

Sliding into the car, River sped off without looking back to his father. Eyes trained on the road, River's knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel. The sound of the road against the tires helped to calm him, but the words Zion had spoke made River more than enraged. As the past alpha drove through the night, his mind settled on the woman he was head over heels for. 

<><><>

The stars chased after the sun, the wind painting across Leala's face a soft breeze, and as she gazed out to the night, the beating of her heard became louder. She watched, perhaps methodically, the men who stood outside a side door of the pack house, their voices hushed as smoke blew into the night sky. 

Growing busy had made Leala Maxwell feel as if she was an outcast of normal society - to be berated with questions and decisions of politics rather than what she had intended for her early and mid-twenties to look like. She knew how young she was, how much life was ahead of her as long as the Moon Goddess were to think otherwise. Leala understood the life she was now to lead was somewhat of a sacrifice.

A sacrifice of her youth - of her ignorance to the world before adulthood would cause her world to crumble. 

The war had taken a toll on the Alpha Queen, both mentally and physically. The bags which had formed under her strained eyes, the once healthy hair now breaking at the ends, and the ever-persistent headaches which kept her awake at night.  Leala understood why kings fell mad in their suffering. 

"The battle is won, relax for a moment," Yusuf muttered, pressing the glass of wine to his lips as Leala look ahead to the men and women of her pack and her kingdom. Yusuf offered Leala a sip of his wine, perhaps even he was offering her the remainder of the heavily-poured drink, yet the Alpha Queen only pondered the days ahead. 

"We are establishing order. New packs have been setup, the architecture for the palace has been drafted and underway, and the werewolf kingdom will live to see another prosperous era." 

"And you are sound sad although all of that progress is good news." 

"I have forgotten what it was like to not give a damn about the reality of the world...about how politics shaped my life. I would once rather get hammered with friends than dare think of a life where I look over war strategies with-"

"So what?" Yusuf asked, cutting Leala off. "Somewhere in the belly of the beast - through this war and new life you have accepted - you realized that normalcy was the way for another lifetime." The men and women Leala had been watching went back into the pack house. "Yes - this life fucking sucks and drains every ounce of hope sometimes. Sometimes you have to let go of everything you think you could have. Sometimes life is supposed to be misery and filled with decisions for a Queen...some people decide life will fuck them over because they are fighting for a cause which their children will benefit from." 

"It sucks."

"And you knew it would. As much as movies and fairytale stories would depict, being the ruler of a kingdom does not mean drinking the finest wine, eating the best fruit, being whisked away to ostentatious balls, and fucking the most desirable man you want. Sure, some moments of this next chapter for you will have that, but it will be consumed by constant stress."

"What a fairytale," Leala muttered, finally taking the glass from Yusuf's hand as she pressed the rim to her lower lip. "But I do it not just for me, but for my people."

Yusuf nodded. "And that will be what makes the stressful decisions and your weakest moments worth it." 

"Sounds depressing."

"No one said it would be a bliss-filled experience."

"No," Leala responded, "I was never promised such a thing. But I can make it that for others." 

<><><>   

Leala shifted the sleeves of her gown around, the fur sewn into the neckline itching her chest ever so slightly. Brie looked at the gown in awe, taking in the final touches as the young seamstress from before adjusted the length of the sleeves, asking Leala for her opinion on length. As it mattered not, Leala went with the choice the young woman seemed to prefer. 

"Tradition yet with a contemporary twist," Brie commented, approving of the final design of Leala's coronation dress. "The Temple of the Moon Goddess will be unable to compare with what you will look like." 

"Tradition will be present there, all the young women who aim to one day be the high priestess."

"Head priestess," the young woman softly corrected. 

Brie apologized, moving back to the conversation. "Women of purity. I do not know how those women could do it and serve such an abnormal life."

"People have done it for ages," Leala commented, "and humans do just the same." 

"You would think the temple would modernize itself. Even when Zion sat on the throne there were no changes to how the priestesses were discarded when they had their first period unless they were to be head priestess one day."

"We are only going there to do the traditional ceremony."

Brie shrugged, watching as Leala was helped out of the gown and put back into her simple jeans and sweater. "The Blood Moon will be bright that night."

"And how long until you sit on the throne of the palace being made for you?"

"With magic, who knows. I've heard dates as early as Friday and ones pushed back five years." 

"So what is left?" Brie asked. "You will be made Alpha Queen Leala of the Western Werewolf Kingdom by the end of next week. You will have your palace ready soon enough, and until them will reside in a mansion no less. What is left?" 

Leala watched her reflection in the mirror, tucking her hair behind her ears as she met the cornflower blue eyes of Brie. "Then a new era begins - one flooded with politics and drama - but an era we fought for."

"Is that where you find your happiness? When you take to the throne and begin that path?"

"Happiness may take longer - at least complete and blissful happiness - but there are fragments of my current reality which bring me that happiness."

"And when does that blissful happiness come?"

A smile tugged at Leala's lips. "When I have watched my children play in a palace courtyard with no fear of a kingdom in ruins."