“Out. I want everyone out, right now,” I bellow, pushing my way to my mother.

I rush to her side, and she grips me tightly, rising to her feet, but she’s weak and I have to let her lean on me to stand. “See that she gets to her rooms, Emilie.”

“No,” my mother argues. “Please. I want to stay, Noble.”

“Mother,” I whisper seeing the pleading look she gives that threatens to undo me. “Let them wash him first.” I touch her face. “Let me deal with this. With justice. For him.”

Her eyes harden. “Son, you will not let this beast get away with this. Please, we mustn’t let this go unpunished. Noble…” She pauses, a realization in her eyes. My mother stands tall. “King Noble.” Her voice rings through the quiet hall.

I frown at her, and when I turn toward the others, my men take a knee. Even Oren sinks down low, head bent, and the rest follow. Everyone but the lions have bowed to the ground, and I search for Liana who is standing with a detached expression of confusion. It’s understandable. She’d married a prince just hours ago.

And now he’s king.

I feel as she does. Confused.

My own mother is stronger in this moment than I ever thought possible. Chin raised, she shouts, “Long live King Noble!” And everyone replies the same.

Oren rises, “My king, you must take the throne. It is tradition.”

“Not now,” I say but my mother grips my arm and shakes her head subtly.

Lip quivering, eyes holding an ocean of tears, she whispers, “He’s right. If you don’t, anyone who sits on it before you, may challenge. If your father were here… You must go now, Noble.”

Oren would be the first to challenge me, or so I’d thought, but I see nothing in his gaze other than sadness, and grudging respect.

My father is not even dead to me mere minutes and I cannot stay. I cannot even be there for my mother, and I cannot even enjoy my wife. It is my duty to sit on that throne, and it’s as if the black wolf’s spirit urges me to do so. This is what he would want more than anything. No doubt it would even have been his dying wish could he have uttered one.

I move to leave, and startle when Liana touches my arm. I think she means to ask me to stay, but she only says, “You won’t kill the lion without a trial. Noble, tell me you’ll listen to his side, at least.”

In front of everyone, I glare at her, moving away. Before the entire realm, my queen, not seconds ago made queen, is already questioning her king, who has not even sat upon his throne.

I know my voice is filled with disgust as I call, “Bring the lion!”

And I leave her and the rest for the main room. For the throne.

I approach the intricately carved wooden chair like a live thing ready to grab me. It is painted gold, roses carved in a weave around the arms, and a giant wolf head resides above the cushioning. It is a throne for a king, and even as old as it is, it still seems new to me every time I see it.

This seat---this is what’s killed my father. I know it with every fiber of my being. When has a king of any realm died of old age? Most have been challenged and fallen, or died of suspicious causes, and now it’s my turn to take that risk for the wolves.

The seat next to it is slightly lower. The queen’s throne, which Liana may not sit until she has a coronation, and now it dawns on me with a pain, it is no longer my mother’s to behold.

It’s all happening so swiftly, and terribly. I want to mourn my father. I want more than anything to be alone. But I can hear the black wolf’s voice in my ear already: And that is what makes a king, Noble, what sets us apart. We cannot do what we want, we must do what is needed for the realm.

The throne is for the taking. I could let someone else sit in my place. Now is the time if I wanted to give it all up, perhaps I’d be happier. But then my father’s work to protect my secret would be all for nothing.

Every part of his life was to pave the way for me to do this exact thing right now. Can I just dishonor him when it is time? No, the throne is mine for the taking. That is how it’s always done in the Winter realm.

Before I can think more, in a swift movement, I sit upon my throne.

Hands rubbing the ridge of the roses, no doubt last touched by my father’s hands---it still feels warm, even. I watch as my people filter in behind me.

“Oren,” I say, and he comes forward. “Tell me what you can recall.”

He bows again, and I’m still unused to the sight. “Yes, sire,” he says. “It was during a fight. Men attacked the village, hunters, and we were so surprised to see them, that it was not a fairytale, that we stalled. It was my fault, sire. We hesitated and chaos, panic ensued. I was separated from your father. He was with the lions. They fought as well, and we beat back the hunters. I thought he’d been harmed by a man, but when we found him, in the end, it was a lion warden who killed him. Of that, I am certain.”

“And was he caught?”

“Yes, sire. We have him.”

My teeth snap together. An anger fills me like I’ve never felt before. “Bring him to me.”

Liana has pressed to the front of the crowd, her lionesses directly behind. She will demand punishment. She will require what I require. There can be no other way.

I rub my top lip feeling the strain of the day heavy on my shoulders, and a new duty for my people tightening around my throat. My emotions are rocking like a ship on a stormy sea. One moment I want to weep, the next I want revenge.

I finally risk a glance at Liana, but she is not looking at me, she is looking at her father who has come to the front of the gathering as well. He is nodding to her, prodding her, and she approaches me, head held high. “We should hear what he has to say first, Noble---, King Noble.”

The gasp from the crowd can’t deafen my own booming voice. “It is for me to decide.”

A rush of protectiveness for my people against hers is so thick I can taste it. We may be married but her kin has murdered mine. She must see that I will do what I must. Without the black wolf who will stop this tide of men and lions?

I am the one to do that now.

My people, who were jovial and celebrating, are now tight faced, shocked, angry, and weary at the sight of me on this throne. Not because they will not obey me. They will, even to death. But because they should have had many more years with my father, same as my mother and me.

The soul threatens to take over, to bring me to my knees, to make me rage and pour out tears at the injustice, but the black wolf has taught me well. I sit, like a king, stiff and proper, and I do not show one thread of emotion. I send my strength to my pack and they absorb it visibly.

Wolf wardens drag a tall blond man into the main room. He’s in shackles. Everything about him says lion, Summer realm, and he’s of noble blood, you can tell.

But all I can see before me is a murderer.

They force the killer to his knees before the throne.

Oren stands to his right. “This is the man who murdered our king. He should be brought to justice and swiftly. The old way.”

The crowd yells in agreement, fists shaking. “The old way!”

Some are dabbing at their eyes with tears flowing that I cannot allow for myself.

I sense that Liana will try and speak so I say, “Prisoner, did you murder a black wolf?”

“Yes.”

My hands shake with anger, so I fist them tightly. “Did you know who the black wolf was in human form?”

He glances swiftly at the lions and says, “Yes, sire.”

“Did anyone see him do it, Oren?”

“Many, sire.”

“You admit to the crime, then?” I ask, slightly surprised.

He nods his golden head tightly, just once.

Oren shouts amidst the chatter that ensues. “He doesn’t even deny it! He must pay! The Old Way, it’s tradition!”

“Tradition!” people begin to shout.

The wolves grow louder, and the lions move forward. Their king looks ready to argue, but it is Liana who steps in front of him. A lion. My wife. “There must be a trial.”

Oren sneers at her. “We wolves have no trial. If the pack says he dies, he dies. He admitted to cold blooded murder!”

The pack yells in unanimous reply, “Murderer!”

“Quiet,” I say, rising.

“Noble,” Liana says, her jaw firm, her eyes pleading. “He could have been coerced. Forced even! We need more information.”

“You will call him king,” Oren demands. “King Noble!”

The wolves shout agreement.

“I have not sworn fealty to any wolf king,” Liana says quietly, but then adds, “But Noble is my king, be he a fair king. There must be a trial. A legitimate hearing. That is our tradition.”

The hall erupts with lions and wolves arguing. The tension is high enough that someone is bound to change, and it would mean more bloodshed.

“Silence,” I snap, and Liana stiffens when I make sure she knows I mean her, too.

My anger threatens to undo me, and hearing her so…rational, it’s too much. I bend to it, to her, but the pack needs a firm leader, especially now.

I see my father’s body all over again from when I’d unveiled the wounds. His chest ripped open. The lion had not been merciful.

“Sire,” Oren prods.

“Bring me my sword!”

Liana rushes forward as the wolves loudly agree with my decision.

My wife latches onto my arm. “You mustn’t!” she cries. “He could have been in the heat of battle. Please, do this properly. We risk the peace, the lions demand trial. It could ruin all that we have planned. Noble, husband, we must hear his side.”

I shake her off roughly, and yank my sword from the sheath that Oren carries. Stalking toward the lion, I do not hesitate for fear that Liana is right, and for fear that I will weaken to her womanly thoughts and the lion’s traditions over my own.

“Blood for blood,” I call. “That is the wolf way!”

“Wait!” Liana cries.

I turn around, sword in hand, and point it at my wife.

Liana’s so surprised at the violent move, she backs away from the blade, eyes wide.

Her father lunges, the wolves press forward.

The room is mere moments away from pandemonium, but I cannot stop the anger, the rogue that demands that no one, not even Liana, will stand between me and my duty. What is owed to my flesh and blood.

Right is right.

Eye for eye.

Lion for wolf.

My voice shakes with rage, as does the sword in my hand that is still between me and what I promised to defend only hours ago. “My father was the one who decided we should marry. That there should be a union against the humans between wolves and lions to save the realms. And what did he get for that? Huh?” I motion with the sword at her, at all of the lions. “Your people murdered him!”

I glare at the king of the lions who is wise enough to see that his choice now may cause all-out war between us both.