Page 140 of Alpha's Rejected Warrior
“Finally not ashamed to be seen in public with me, eh?”
Rhiannon’s laugh breaks free, bright and joyful, cutting straight through the music and the sounds of the crowd and every terrible thing we endured to get here.
“Fortunately for you, I have no shame.”
We’re halfway through our second dance when the music dies, stopping cold. The crowd stills, conversations dropping away in a ripple that spreads from the dais outward.
Xander stands at the front of the platform, back straight, chin raised, every inch the Alpha. But his fingers tap against his thigh. A subtle tell I’ve noticed over weeks of watching him command rooms. He’s nervous about something.
And if there’s one thing Xander hates, it’s being unsure about anything.
Behind him, Mahal stands motionless in ceremonial robes that pool around his feet like liquid silver.
“My pack, your attention,” Xander calls out. “Our Head Seer has received a royal proclamation that must be read immediately.”
Mahal steps forward, his ancient eyes sweeping the hall. In his hands, a scroll sealed with crimson wax bears a sigil I can’t make out from this distance, but I already know who it’s from.
The Alpha King.
My stomach drops.
The summit is over. They signed the treaty. There’s no reason to keep the human around anymore.
Rhiannon’s fingers find mine, her grip broadcasting what her face won’t show. She’s already running the same calculations I am, and every one of them ends with me being dragged out of Clarion, or worse.
I squeeze back.
Mahal breaks the seal. The crack of wax echoes through the silent hall like a bone snapping.
He unrolls the parchment slowly, as if unveiling a lost relic. His eyes quickly traverse the lines once before his voice settles over the chamber.
“By the authority of His Majesty, Alpha King Leon, Sovereign of Clarion and Ruler of the Realm,” Mahal begins, his voicerolling through the hall like distant thunder, “the Royal Seers of Clarion do hereby declare the following...”
He pauses. The silence is so complete I can hear the crackle and pop of the wall-mounted torches.
“The Moon Goddess, in her infinite wisdom, has named the human, Ethan Langley of the Outer Lands, an official Seer of the Crescent Pack.”
Thea’s gasp cuts through the hall, sharp and loud enough that it shifts every eye toward her for a moment.
Rhiannon’s grip tightens around my hand. I turn to her and find her burning golden-brown eyes locked onto me, her lips parted, staring at me like I just grew a second head.
I can’t manage a single word, not even through our mind-link. My brain has stalled out completely.
Mahal continues, his tone steady and even as if he hasn’t just dropped a bomb in the center of the room.
“Under the direct supervision of Head Seer Mahal, and with the full protection of Alpha Xander, Ethan of the Outer Lands shall be required to serve as Truth Seer in disputes, trials, and negotiations in Kortan.”
Truth Seer.A nickname given to me by Jayme, now a formal title inked onto a royal scroll, with the Alpha King’s seal?
“Due to the nature of his origin, Truth Seer Ethan shall be restricted in travel until such time that the Alpha King deems suitable. Any movements beyond a day’s journey outside of Kortan must be approved by the Royal Seers. In all other regards, he is to be recognized with the full authority and privileges of a Seer of the Crescent Pack. So it is written, so it is decreed.”
Mahal lowers the parchment. Four hundred eyeballs stare at me.
My thoughts scatter like dropped marbles on a tile floor. I search the dais until I find Xander.
He meets my gaze. Holds it. And nods once with certainty.
Is this really happening?
