The Triplet Alphas' Curse: Rejected by the Wolfless Luna.

Chapter 187: Episode 187.

A knock resounded softly on Mabel’s door shortly after dusk. Mabel already knew it would not be her father.

Her father knocked differently, and the scent that greeted her nose wasn’t his.

Mabel set her book aside. "Come in." She permitted.

The door opened immediately.

The human king entered first, and two guards followed behind him. Both were armed, and on alert. Neither looked comfortable standing inside a werewolf stronghold.

The king dismissed them with a glance.

The guards hesitated, but then they obeyed.

The door shut behind them.

Silence settled between them, and now, the king studied her.

Mabel studied him back. He looked older than her. Much older, but not weak. If they were to be in the human world, she could say he was two decades older than she was.

He was not particularly handsome, but not ugly either. He was just a man with his long brown hair tied behind his back, and he stood so tall before her.

"How do you feel about slavery?" he asked.

Mabel blinked at the sudden question. Of all the questions she expected, that had not been one of them.

"I abhor it." She gave him an honest reply.

His expression did not change.

Mabel folded her hands neatly in her lap, staring up at him.

"And murder?" He asked again.

Her eyes stared deep into his thoughtfully. "That depends."

One of his eyebrows rose.

Mabel smiled. "I imagine that answer concerns you."

"It does."

"Then perhaps you should ask better questions." She swallowed, and straightened her sitting posture.

For a second, she thought she saw amusement flicker between his eyes. However, it was only for a second, and then it vanished quickly at a breath.

The king moved toward the window, and stared far ahead. "I did not invite you to dinner because of your diplomacy."

"I assumed."

"You know why you’re here."

Mabel did. She simply wanted to hear him say it. From the moment she saw Violet absent in the whole estate, she knew she’d be sold to the humans.

The king looked directly at her. He met her brown eyes with his brown ones. He first cleared his throat before speaking again.

"You’re meant to become my wife."

Mabel stared at him silently.

The king waited.

Mabel simply continued staring at him. She stared at him long enough that most people would have become uncomfortable.

Eventually, she asked. "Are you ill?"

The king blinked.

Mabel tilted her head. "Because that sounded very much like a marriage proposal."

The king sighed. "It was."

Mabel continued staring at him. Her eyes sharpened, like he had lost his mind.

The king rubbed his temple. He let out a doomed sigh. "I know I don’t look young enough for you."

Mabel said nothing. Her expression remained unreadable.

"But I can promise you protection for the rest of your life."

That finally made her pause. Protection? That was an interesting choice of words. She still said nothing.

The king continued. "My kingdom would be yours."

Still, she said nothing, nor reacted.

His patience visibly thinned. "You have no response?" He questioned, with worry lines forming on his forehead.

Mabel remembered the seer. She remembered the seer telling her she’d be queen, but not to the Alphas.

Then, she hadn’t known how that would have been possible. She thought she might have to wait a century before it would happen, but this happened so fast.

Mabel slowly smiled. She gave him a small smile. "I am a werewolf." She reminded him softly.

The king watched her carefully.

"What are you protecting me from among humans?"

For the first time, he had no answer.

Mabel noticed his silence, and stored it away. That meant there was something he wasn’t saying.

Her smile deepened. "I accept." She accepted so casually like they were speaking of the weather.

The king froze. "You what?"

"I accept." She repeated, with that cold nonchalance.

He stared, and she stared back.

The silence stretched between them. Then stretched some more, with an awkward silence.

"Lady Rowanfall."

"Your Majesty."

"I don’t think you understand."

"No." She refused. "I understand perfectly."

The king looked genuinely suspicious now, as though she had become significantly more dangerous.

"You’re agreeing awfully quickly." He confessed.

Mabel shrugged. "Would you prefer I scream?"

The king said nothing.

She made a face, and clasped her hands together. "Throw something perhaps?"

Still, he said nothing.

"Roll on the floor?"

A muscle twitched in his jaw.

Mabel smiled sweetly. "That would be a terrible reputation for me." She concluded.

She rose from her chair.

The king watched her approach. He looked so cautious and curious right now that it looked funny to Mabel.

Mabel stopped directly before him, then she leaned forward, and pressed a light kiss against the corner of his mouth.

When she stepped back, the king looked genuinely stunned. The kiss felt nothing like affection, but as a statement.

Mabel smiled watching him. She preferred people off balance. Politely, she bowed. "Good evening, Your Majesty."

For several seconds, the King simply stared at her. He was visibly speechless, but she couldn’t tell whatever he was thinking.

Mabel found herself pleased by that. He had been surprised genuinely. The realization pleased her more than it should have.

The silence stretched between them. Then the king slowly lifted a hand and touched the corner of his mouth, as if confirming the kiss had actually happened.

Mabel blinked slowly at him.

His gaze remained fixed on her. The king blinked, then another short and unexpected laugh escaped him.

"No," he agreed. "It isn’t formal with you."

Mabel folded her hands behind her back. "Then perhaps introductions are in order." She pushed politely.

The king studied her for another moment, then nodded. "You are right."

His posture straightened slightly, just enough to remind her who he was. "King Fitzgerald." He bowed lightly.

Mabel repeated it silently. "King Fitzgerald."

His name sounded stronger than she expected. She tilted her head. "King Fitzgerald." She said it again for some reason.

A faint smile appeared on his lips. "Fitz."

Mabel blinked. The correction surprised her.

The king’s expression softened slightly. "My friends call me Fitz."

Mabel immediately looked around the room.

Fitzgerald followed her gaze. "What are you looking for?"

"Your friends."

The king stared. Then he laughed again. He laughed far too much around her, and he noticed it.

"I am serious."

"So am I." Mabel clasped her hands together. "I simply assumed they would be here if I was expected to call you that."

His eyes lingered on her longer than necessary. He traced her brows to her eyes, and finally, his eyes landed on her neck. The king looked away first.

"You may call me Fitz." He offered.

Mabel considered the offer, then asked calmly,

"Should I add King before it?"

The king closed his eyes briefly, as if gathering patience, or trying not to be amused. Mabel couldn’t tell.

"No."

"Your advisors would disagree."

"They disagree with many things."

The king smile deepened. Victory flashed briefly across his face.

Mabel immediately disliked that. She preferred being the only one winning conversations.

"You’ve known me less than a week."

"I’ve learned enough."

His eyes moved over her carefully, and thoughtfully, as if studying a puzzle. She was used to the admiration.

This felt different.

King Fitzgerald wasn’t looking at her beauty.

He was looking at her mind, and trying to understand it, or even, predict it. She could see him trying to determine whether she would become an ally, or a disaster.

Mabel wasn’t entirely certain herself.

The king seemed to reach the same conclusion.

Fitzgerald eventually looked toward the door. He stared at the door as if behind those doors, he’d encounter all the unpleasant things kings could never escape again.

His expression shifted slightly and the warmth faded.

Mabel strangely found herself disappointed.

"I should go."

"Probably." She agreed with a nod.

His eyebrow rose. "You’re dismissing your future husband?"

Mabel smiled sweetly. "I am encouraging a king to return to his kingdom."

Fitzgerald shook his head, being enchanted already. Then he moved toward the door. Halfway there, he stopped.

Mabel watched him closely.

The king glanced back over his shoulder.

His gaze found her immediately, as though he had known exactly where she would be standing, and watching.

A strange look crossed his face. "You accepted very quickly." He reopened that Chapter, still uneasy.

Mabel’s smile remained unchanged. "I did."

His brows furrowed. "Why?" He questioned more like a man and less like a King.

Mabel considered answering honestly. She could tell him this was her destiny. However, she decided against it.

Instead she tilted her head. "If I tell you now, what will we talk about after we’re married?" She joked.

For the first time all evening, King Fitzgerald looked completely defeated.

A laugh escaped him. He shook his head once, then opened the door.

"Mabel." He called her name one more time, as if unable to leave.

"Fitz." She whispered.

The name slipped out naturally, and Fitzgerald froze slightly. His eyes softened.

He smiled, and left.

The door closed behind him, and silence returned.

Mabel stood motionless for several seconds, then slowly turned toward the window. Beyond the glass, darkness had swallowed the world.

The old seer’s voice echoed through her memory. For the first time since hearing the prophecy, Mabel wondered if fate had truly found her, or if she had simply walked willingly into its path.

Either way, the game had finally become interesting.