Page 20 of Mane Attraction
King Rorick had been running out of time, and Lev had been too stubborn to listen.
When Lev emerged from his chambers, Xelene waited in the hallway with a glass of water and two white pills. She looked every inch the composed professional, but Lev caught the way her gaze lingered on his face, searching for signs of how well he was holding together.
“Much better,” she said, offering him the aspirin. “You look like a prince instead of a vagrant.”
Lev knocked back the pills with half the glass of water, grateful for the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. “That’s something, I suppose.”
“It’s time.” She gestured toward the main corridor.
They walked in silence through the castle’s familiar halls, Lev’s formal boots echoing against floors that had witnessed generations of Marcan rulers. Portraits of his ancestors lined the walls—kings and queens who’d led the pride through wars, prosperity, and political upheaval. Soon, his own portrait would join them.
If you don’t screw this up completely,he reminded himself.
The royal futuristic carriage waited in the drive, its black exterior gleaming under Nova Aurora’s morning suns. Lev helped Xelene inside, noting how she moved with natural grace despite the emotional weight of the day. The driver soon pulled away from the castle, heading toward the pride’s ceremonial grounds where his father’s body lay in state.
As the familiar landscape rolled past the windows—golden savannas stretching toward distant mountains and the pink ocean glimmering on the horizon—Lev felt the full weight of his inheritance settling around him like chains. This wasn’t just about becoming king anymore. It was about honoring hisfather’s legacy, protecting the pride from those who would exploit any weakness, and proving he was worthy of the crown that would soon rest on his head.
Xelene’s hand found his in the space between their seats, her fingers intertwining with his. For a moment, Lev wondered if she was maintaining their cover even in the privacy of the royal futuristic carriage, but when he glanced at her face, he saw something genuine in her expression—compassion, understanding, a desire to offer comfort in the only way she knew how.
“You don’t have to do this alone today,” she said quietly, her thumb brushing across his knuckles.
The simple touch sent heat racing through him, the mate bond responding to her nearness with an intensity that stole his breath. No woman had ever offered him comfort like this—pure and honest emotional support when he needed it most.
She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me,Lev realized, his chest tightening with a complex mix of gratitude and longing.She has no idea she’s my fated mate, and she’s still trying to take care of me.
“Thank you again,” he managed.
The ceremonial grounds soon appeared ahead, their ancient stone structures rising from the earth like monuments to shifter tradition. Lev’s stomach clenched as the royal vehicle slowed, approaching the place where he would say goodbye to his father and step into a future he’d spent years avoiding.
THIRTEEN
XELENE
The royal vehicle door opened with a soft click, and Xelene stepped onto the ceremonial grounds, her black dress rustling against her legs as Nova Aurora’s twin suns cast long shadows across the ancient stone structures. The weight of the last twelve hours pressed against her chest like a physical force—everything had shifted so dramatically that she felt as though she were living someone else’s life entirely.
Benjamin and Janice stood waiting near the entrance, both dressed in formal mourning attire. Benjamin’s usually warm expression was somber as he approached them, while Janice’s hazel eyes immediately sought Xelene’s face with the kind of concerned intensity that came from years of friendship.
“Your Highness,” Benjamin said quietly, offering Lev a respectful nod. “Everyone is waiting inside.”
Lev’s jaw tightened, his broad shoulders squaring beneath his ceremonial jacket as he nodded curtly. Even hungover and grieving, he radiated an undeniable alpha presence. Xelene found herself studying his profile, remembering how different he’d looked just an hour ago—vulnerable and broken, needing her help to even sit upright and face the day.
Fated mate.
The words echoed in her mind like a mantra she couldn’t escape. Last night, Janice had burst into her guest suite while Xelene was still reeling from too much Sidaii wine. She’d been sprawled across her bed, still wearing her green sundress, trying to process the confusing tangle of emotions Lev stirred in her, when Janice had delivered the news that changed everything.
“The King is dead,” Janice had whispered, shaking Xelene’s shoulder. “Lev’s going to need you.”
But that hadn’t been the most earth-shattering revelation of the night. No, that honor belonged to what came next—Janice’s breathless confession about Lev’s private conversation, the one where he’d admitted the truth that explained his panicked flight from their first meeting.
“He said you’re his fated mate, Xelene. That’s why he bolted when you shook hands.”
Xelene had demanded an explanation, her analytical mind struggling to process concepts that defied everything she understood about relationships and attraction. A fated mate, Janice had explained with the enthusiasm of someone who’d clearly been researching shifter culture with Benjamin, was like a soulmate but infinitely more intense and destined—a cosmic connection that bound two people together through something called a mate bond that once completed became permanent.
Permanent. Intense. Destined.
All the things Xelene had spent her adult life avoiding with fierce determination.
“You holding up okay?” Janice murmured, moving closer as Lev and Benjamin walked ahead toward the ceremonial entrance.
