Avenging Luna
Chapter 177: Mourning The King

Chapter 177: Mourning The King

CHASE POV:

The next day, I made the official announcement of the king’s death to the kingdom. My voice rang out across the courtyard, steady and authoritative, masking the turmoil inside me. The crowd reacted as expected—shock, grief, and whispers of speculation rippled through the sea of people.

I declared a three-day mourning period for the late king, during which the entire kingdom would honor his memory. At the same time, I issued an official manhunt for Ace, naming him the murderer of my father. His capture or death was now the top priority of every guard and tracker in the kingdom.

But despite the grand gestures and public outpouring of sorrow, my heart wasn’t in it. My coronation was scheduled for the day after the mourning period ended, and instead of excitement or pride, all I felt was a gnawing sense of dread.

The weight of the crown was already pressing down on me, and I hadn’t even placed it on my head yet.

Damon, on the other hand, seemed almost giddy about the whole thing, which was both surprising and irritating.

"Why are you so damn happy about this?" I asked him later, catching him smirking over the preparations.

"Happy?" he repeated, feigning innocence. "I’m just relieved, brother. Once you’re officially king, you can’t use your usual tricks to try and dump the crown on me again. I can finally breathe easy knowing I’ll never have to be the one sitting on that throne."

He had a point, though it annoyed me to admit it. For years, I’d used Damon as a buffer whenever I felt the responsibilities of the crown looming too close. He’d always been my safety net, the one I could push forward if things got too overwhelming.

But now, there was no escape. This was my destiny, whether I liked it or not.

Leila, on the other hand, was still furious with me. She hadn’t outright said so, but her cold demeanor and clipped responses spoke volumes. Every interaction with her was like navigating a minefield, and I was constantly waiting for her to explode.

Yet, beneath her anger, I could sense her grief. She might not have admitted it, but she’d grown fond of my father in her own way. Their bond had been an unexpected one, built on mutual respect and shared moments of understanding. His death had hit her harder than she’d let on.

I’d seen it in the way she lingered in the gardens he’d favored, the quiet moments she spent staring out over the castle walls, lost in thought.

And then there was Ash. The little troublemaker seemed blissfully unaware of the political chaos surrounding him. He’d woken up that morning full of energy, bouncing around the castle as if nothing had happened.

His laughter was a reminder of what was at stake.

This wasn’t just about avenging my father or taking on the mantle of leadership. It was about protecting my family, my mate, my son, and ensuring that they would never have to face the horrors that had haunted my father’s reign.

Ace had taken my father’s life, but I’d be damned if I let him take anything else from me.

So, as the day wore on and preparations for the mourning period continued, I steeled myself for what was to come.

The hunt for Ace was only the beginning.

The castle was a flurry of activity as the news of my father’s death spread. Servants hung black banners from the towers, their somber movements echoing the weight of grief that blanketed the air. The council convened frequently, each meeting more tedious than the last as they debated over protocols for the mourning period and my upcoming coronation.

I sat through the discussions, barely listening. My thoughts were elsewhere—on Ace, on my father, on Leila and the wall of icy anger she’d built between us.

"Chase, are you even listening?" one of the elders asked, his voice tinged with impatience.

"No," I replied bluntly, earning a chorus of disapproving murmurs. "But since you seem to have everything under control, why don’t you carry on?"

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. I didn’t wait for their protests as I strode out of the chamber, my mood sour.

I needed to think, to clear my head.

Outside, the castle gardens were eerily quiet. The usual hum of birdsong and rustling leaves had been replaced by a heavy stillness. I found Leila there, sitting on a stone bench with Ash curled up beside her. He was playing with a small wooden wolf figurine, completely engrossed in his own little world. Leila’s eyes were distant, her fingers absently stroking Ash’s hair. She didn’t even look up as I approached, her silence speaking louder than any words ever could.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if she wanted company. Finally, I cleared my throat and took a tentative step closer.

"How’s Ash?" I asked softly.

Leila glanced at me, her gaze cool and unreadable. "He’s fine, considering everything. Children are resilient, after all."

Her tone was calm, but I could sense the edge beneath it. Guilt gnawed at me. "Leila, I—"

"Don’t," she interrupted, her voice firm. "Not now, Chase. Not here."

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. "Fine. But we will talk about this."

"Will we?" she countered, her eyebrows arching slightly. "Because it seems like you prefer handling things on your own. Why bother including me at all?"

Her words stung more than I cared to admit. "That’s not fair," I said, lowering my voice so Ash wouldn’t hear. "I was trying to protect you—protect both of you."

Leila’s laugh was bitter, and she finally stood, pulling Ash up with her. "Protect us? By keeping me in the dark? By hiding what happened to our son? Chase, you can’t lead a family, let alone a kingdom, by making decisions alone and expecting the rest of us to fall in line."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding.

Ash looked up at me, his wide, innocent eyes filled with curiosity. "Uncle Chase?" he said softly.

I knelt down, forcing a smile despite the tension. "Yeah, buddy?"

"Are you and Mommy mad at each other?" he asked, his little voice so pure and concerned that it felt like a knife to the chest.

Leila’s expression softened, and she crouched beside Ash. "No, sweetheart," she said gently, wrapping an arm around him. "We’re just talking. Adults do that sometimes."

Ash nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer, and went back to playing with his figurine.

Leila straightened, her eyes locking with mine. "I’m going to put him down for a nap," she said quietly. "After that, we’ll talk. No more excuses, Chase."

I nodded, watching her walk away with Ash in her arms. The weight of her words settled over me like a storm cloud. She was right—I couldn’t keep making decisions in isolation, no matter how well-intentioned they were.

If I wanted this mate thing, this partnership, to work, I needed to trust her as much as I wanted her to trust me.

Later that evening, Leila and I finally sat down in my study. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

"I’m listening," she said, arms crossed. "Start talking."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to be completely honest. "I didn’t tell you about Ash shifting because I didn’t want you to blame yourself. I knew you’d feel guilty for not being there, and I didn’t want to add to everything you were already dealing with."

Leila’s gaze didn’t waver. "And you thought keeping it from me would help?"

"I thought it would give us time to handle it without making you feel worse," I admitted. "But I was wrong. I see that now."

She leaned back in her chair, her expression softening slightly. "Chase, I know you mean well, but I’m not some fragile thing you need to shield from the truth. I’m your partner. If we’re going to make this work, you need to trust me to handle things—even the hard things."

I nodded slowly. "You’re right. I’ll do better, I promise."

For a moment, there was silence between us, the kind that wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable but full of unspoken understanding.

Then Leila sighed, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You’re lucky Ash loves you," she said. "That boy thinks you hung the moon."

"And what about you?" I asked, a hint of a smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "You’re still on probation."

I chuckled, the tension between us finally breaking. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

"What about the ace guy you announced as the murder of your father? how did you know?" Leila asked.

I sighed, leaning back against my chair as I met Leila’s questioning gaze. She always had a way of cutting straight through to the heart of things, leaving no room for evasion. This conversation was going to happen whether I liked it or not.

"It’s... complicated," I began, my voice carefully measured. "Ace and I... we have history."

Leila arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she waited for me to elaborate. "History? What kind of history?"

I ran a hand through my hair, stalling for a moment. I wasn’t sure how to frame this without tipping her off to the more dangerous parts of the story. "He was a friend. Once. A long time ago. We grew up together, trained together. He was like a brother to me."

Her expression softened slightly at that, but her eyes remained sharp. "And now he’s gone rogue?"

"More or less," I admitted. "Something happened. He changed. He started seeing enemies where there weren’t any. Eventually, his paranoia got the better of him, and he... turned against us. Against me."