False Expectations - Chapter 49: Chapter 49
You are reading False Expectations, Chapter 49: Chapter 49. Read more chapters of False Expectations.
Μaximus' pov:
The day of my coronation as King of all wolves has finally arrived, and a strange anxiety churns within me. It's not that I didn't expect to win the skirmishes—I knew I was prepared, that I was capable of achieving this. But the truth is, none of it feels real. Nothing feels significant. Without Adelina, my life feels like a hollow victory. It's as though a shadow looms over everything, dimming the celebration.
I thought I'd be filled with pride, with joy at the prospect of leading our kind. Instead, all I feel is this gnawing emptiness. The cheers, the festivities, the crown—they all feel weightless without her by my side. I can't shake the thought that she should be here with me, standing proudly, the queen by her king's side. After all, she's an Alpha. By tradition, she must be here—it's expected, a symbol of approval, of loyalty.
But she hasn't come.
A month has passed since I last spoke to her. She's been swallowed up by her responsibilities as Alpha, a role she's grown into with remarkable ease. From what I've heard, she's done an extraordinary job. In just a short time, she transformed her old pack, implementing structural changes that increased efficiency and profitability. Her tactical mind and keen leadership have earned her the respect of other Alphas, many of whom refer to her as "the calm power"—a force that gets things done with quiet, unassuming authority.
Every morning, I send her flowers—the ones I know she loves. Beautiful roses in varying shades, chocolates, pieces of jewelry, or handwritten cards with verses of love. I thought maybe, if I showed her how much I care, she might return to me. But every time I reach out—whether by phone or text—there's nothing. No response. She's always too busy or unreachable, and the silence between us stretches like a growing chasm I can't seem to cross.
The worst of it came during the Alphas' meeting two weeks ago at the Silver Woods pack. It was the first time I had seen her in person since the skirmishes, and even though the room was full of leaders, my eyes kept drifting toward her. She was a vision—poised, composed, and radiant in a way that only she could be. She spoke with such authority, her words cutting straight to the heart of every issue. Her proposals were sharp and fair, and you could feel the respect in the room for her. There was no question in my mind: she would be an excellent queen.
But the more I watched her, the more I felt the distance. She was surrounded by people, of course, but it wasn't just that. She actively avoided me, or at least, it seemed that way. I couldn't help but feel a pang of rejection as I caught her looking away every time our eyes met. It hurt, deeper than I wanted to admit. She wasn't the same Adelina I once knew—this woman had become someone untouchable. My heart ached with a longing I couldn't express.
I wanted her. I wanted her by my side, not just in my dreams but in the waking world. I wanted to touch her, to hold her, to feel her warmth next to me again. Her beauty consumed my thoughts, especially in the quiet moments when I allowed my mind to wander. The thought of her body, soft and warm, stirred something deep within me—an undeniable hunger that was all-consuming. The curve of her neck, the delicate arch of her back, the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips...
My breath quickened, but before I could lose myself to the thoughts, the door to my chambers opened with a sudden crash. Chris stepped inside, breaking the spell that had fallen over me.
-"Maximus," he said, his voice cutting through the haze in my mind. "It's time."
I blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of my longing thoughts. I forced myself to focus on the reality around me—the crown, the responsibilities, the throne. But all I could feel was the absence of the one person who mattered.
-"Right," I muttered, wiping my hands down my face as I steadied myself. "Let's get this over with."
Chris raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're ready for this?"
I nodded, but it wasn't with conviction.
-"I'll do what I must," I said, though the words felt empty. I wasn't sure if I was ready for the title, the throne, or any of it without her beside me.
"Good. Let's make it official, then," Chris replied, his voice firm. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something crucial was missing from this picture.
-"Adelina... Where are you?
Third's person pov:
The ceremony took place in a hall fit for royalty, a place where power, history, and tradition seemed to bleed into every inch of the walls. The grandeur of the Royal Palace's ballroom was unmatched, and it exuded an air of majesty that seemed to be woven into the very fabric of the Kingdom itself. The throne room had been transformed into a space that practically pulsed with life and anticipation, draped in red and gold—the official colors of our Kingdom—creating a lavish contrast against the marble floors.
Rich, deep crimson carpets were meticulously laid across the floor, guiding every guest toward the imposing golden throne that stood in the center of the room. The throne itself was a work of art—intricately carved with ornate details, gilded in gold, and flanked by the proud coats of arms of the Draco pack. Every corner of the room was festooned with the finest decorations: vases filled with blood-red roses, and Alexandrian flowers, their delicate petals adding an ethereal charm to the space. On the left-hand side, a buffet laden with every conceivable delicacy—exquisite sweets, savory hors d'oeuvres, and an array of intoxicating drinks—tempted the guests as they mingled.
The high-ranking wolves began to file into the room, their elegant tuxedos and evening dresses creating a sea of shimmering fabrics and sharp cuts. Alphas, Betas, and Lunas gathered in small clusters, exchanging words and business, their voices a quiet hum that blended into the atmosphere. Omega wolves darted between groups, their movements a blur as they served drinks and catered to the needs of the guests. From somewhere deeper in the hall, the soft strains of classical music floated through the air, the orchestra playing in perfect harmony with the mood of the occasion. There was an air of excitement, of unity, as everyone waited for what was to come.
When the room was at its peak, the sound of trumpets suddenly pierced the air. Silence fell like a blanket, as the Council members, dressed in robes of fine velvet and brocade, entered one by one, each stepping into the spotlight with an air of quiet authority. Following them, the former King and Queen made their entrance, their regal posture a testament to years of leadership. The High Priest of Artemis—our goddess, our guide—walked solemnly in front of them, his robes trailing behind him, signaling the sacredness of the moment.
And then, it was his turn. Maximus. The new King.
The moment the doors opened, all eyes turned. He entered the room with a slow, deliberate grace, his presence alone commanding the room. He wore the traditional royal uniform—his white jacket adorned with gleaming metals, reflecting the soft light of the chandeliers above. His pants were tailored perfectly, with a single white stripe running down the sides, a symbol of purity and rank. A golden sword rested on his belt, the handle decorated with three small emeralds that glinted in the light.
As he stepped into the room, the air seemed to shift. It was not just his appearance—it was the sheer weight of his power that filled the space, an almost tangible force that made everyone unconsciously bow in reverence. The room held its collective breath, recognizing that the one who now stood before them was a leader not only by title but by the very essence of his being. His aura was a force unto itself, rich with dominance, wisdom, and something darker—something primal.
The Council members, seated to the right of the throne, stood as one, acknowledging the presence of their new King. The former King and Queen settled into their elevated seats, a show of respect for the position, though their own time had passed. The High Priest moved to stand before the throne, his hands clasped, waiting for Maximus to approach.
With a steady, unwavering pace, Maximus walked toward the throne. Each step was calculated, measured, as if he were walking into the very heart of his destiny. The High Priest began to chant softly, the ancient words asking for the blessing of Artemis, a prayer to guide the new King on his path. The room fell into an almost reverent silence, the weight of the moment settling over everyone present.
When Maximus reached the throne, he stopped just a few feet away. The High Priest extended a ceremonial knife to him, its blade gleaming in the soft light. Beside him, a golden cup was held out. With calm precision, Maximus cut his hand, his blood dripping down in three deliberate drops. The room was still, all eyes on him as he spoke the sacred words of the oath, his voice steady, yet laced with the gravity of the moment.
-"I, Maximillian Augustus Drako," he began, his words ringing clear through the silence, "swear under blood oath to serve my kind as best I can, to protect the Kingdom and its subjects from any potential threat with my own life, and to ensure peace and prosperity among us."
His voice was a vow, a promise that settled deep into the hearts of all who heard it. The weight of the words hung in the air, powerful and unyielding. His oath had been taken—there was no turning back. The Kingdom had a new King.
The High Priest, with a solemn yet steady hand, placed the crown upon Maximus's head. The golden circlet gleamed as it settled, signifying not only the physical weight of the crown but the immense responsibility that now rested upon his shoulders. The room seemed to hold its breath, the moment stretching longer than time itself.
-"I present to you, your rightful King," the High Priest declared, his voice carrying with reverence through the hall.
A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd. The applause was deafening, a unified sound of adoration and respect that filled every corner of the room.
-"Heil the new King! May the Goddess bless him and protect him. Maximus! Maximus! Maximus!" they chanted in unison, their voices rising in a collective roar that echoed through the grand halls of the Royal Palace.
Maximus stood tall, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces below him—some familiar, others new, but all now under his reign. The weight of their gaze settled on him like the crown on his head, but he stood unflinching. He was King now, and he would wear that title with the strength that had led him here.
Raising his hand, his fingers glimmering with gold rings, Maximus called for silence. The room obeyed immediately, the noise of the crowd falling to a hushed murmur. It was a stark contrast to the deafening applause that had just reverberated through the air.
His voice, calm yet commanding, filled the silence as he began to speak. "Members of the Council, Alphas, Lunas, and Betas, ladies and gentlemen..." he began, pausing for a moment, as if gathering the weight of his words. His eyes moved over the crowd, every face a reminder of the kingdom he now led. "As many of you may know, I am not a man of great speeches. I am not one for endless words, nor do I wish to bore you with promises." He chuckled softly, a fleeting moment of warmth before his expression hardened with conviction. "I am a man of deeds."
His gaze sharpened as he continued, his voice gaining strength with each word. "And I promise you this—under my reign, our Kingdom will grow stronger. We will prosper together, as a united people, forging a future that is worthy of the sacrifices that have brought us here. But above all, there is one thing I want to prevail above all else during my rule—peace. Peace for all wolves, peace among the packs, and peace for our future."
The weight of his words hung in the air, resonating deeply within the hearts of all who listened. His oath was not just a promise—it was a commitment to the Kingdom and its people. His leadership would be defined not by the wars fought or the enemies defeated, but by the tranquility he would cultivate, the unity he would create.
Maximus's eyes lingered for a moment longer, scanning the room. His gaze briefly flickered to the empty seat beside the throne—the seat reserved for his Queen. A pang of longing surged within him, but he quickly suppressed it. There was work to do, a Kingdom to unite, and a future to build. Adelina, his mate, would return to him in time.
But for now, the Kingdom was his responsibility. The people needed a King they could trust—a King who would honor his promises, not with mere words, but with actions that would speak louder than any speech ever could.
-"I am not perfect," he added, his voice softening just slightly, "but I will always strive to be the King this Kingdom deserves. I ask for your trust, your loyalty, and your strength as we move forward. Together."
With that, he lowered his hand, and the crowd erupted again into applause, their cheers now laced with genuine hope and admiration. Maximus stood tall, his heart pounding in his chest, the weight of leadership settling upon him in a way that felt both daunting and empowering.
The day of my coronation as King of all wolves has finally arrived, and a strange anxiety churns within me. It's not that I didn't expect to win the skirmishes—I knew I was prepared, that I was capable of achieving this. But the truth is, none of it feels real. Nothing feels significant. Without Adelina, my life feels like a hollow victory. It's as though a shadow looms over everything, dimming the celebration.
I thought I'd be filled with pride, with joy at the prospect of leading our kind. Instead, all I feel is this gnawing emptiness. The cheers, the festivities, the crown—they all feel weightless without her by my side. I can't shake the thought that she should be here with me, standing proudly, the queen by her king's side. After all, she's an Alpha. By tradition, she must be here—it's expected, a symbol of approval, of loyalty.
But she hasn't come.
A month has passed since I last spoke to her. She's been swallowed up by her responsibilities as Alpha, a role she's grown into with remarkable ease. From what I've heard, she's done an extraordinary job. In just a short time, she transformed her old pack, implementing structural changes that increased efficiency and profitability. Her tactical mind and keen leadership have earned her the respect of other Alphas, many of whom refer to her as "the calm power"—a force that gets things done with quiet, unassuming authority.
Every morning, I send her flowers—the ones I know she loves. Beautiful roses in varying shades, chocolates, pieces of jewelry, or handwritten cards with verses of love. I thought maybe, if I showed her how much I care, she might return to me. But every time I reach out—whether by phone or text—there's nothing. No response. She's always too busy or unreachable, and the silence between us stretches like a growing chasm I can't seem to cross.
The worst of it came during the Alphas' meeting two weeks ago at the Silver Woods pack. It was the first time I had seen her in person since the skirmishes, and even though the room was full of leaders, my eyes kept drifting toward her. She was a vision—poised, composed, and radiant in a way that only she could be. She spoke with such authority, her words cutting straight to the heart of every issue. Her proposals were sharp and fair, and you could feel the respect in the room for her. There was no question in my mind: she would be an excellent queen.
But the more I watched her, the more I felt the distance. She was surrounded by people, of course, but it wasn't just that. She actively avoided me, or at least, it seemed that way. I couldn't help but feel a pang of rejection as I caught her looking away every time our eyes met. It hurt, deeper than I wanted to admit. She wasn't the same Adelina I once knew—this woman had become someone untouchable. My heart ached with a longing I couldn't express.
I wanted her. I wanted her by my side, not just in my dreams but in the waking world. I wanted to touch her, to hold her, to feel her warmth next to me again. Her beauty consumed my thoughts, especially in the quiet moments when I allowed my mind to wander. The thought of her body, soft and warm, stirred something deep within me—an undeniable hunger that was all-consuming. The curve of her neck, the delicate arch of her back, the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips...
My breath quickened, but before I could lose myself to the thoughts, the door to my chambers opened with a sudden crash. Chris stepped inside, breaking the spell that had fallen over me.
-"Maximus," he said, his voice cutting through the haze in my mind. "It's time."
I blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of my longing thoughts. I forced myself to focus on the reality around me—the crown, the responsibilities, the throne. But all I could feel was the absence of the one person who mattered.
-"Right," I muttered, wiping my hands down my face as I steadied myself. "Let's get this over with."
Chris raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're ready for this?"
I nodded, but it wasn't with conviction.
-"I'll do what I must," I said, though the words felt empty. I wasn't sure if I was ready for the title, the throne, or any of it without her beside me.
"Good. Let's make it official, then," Chris replied, his voice firm. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something crucial was missing from this picture.
-"Adelina... Where are you?
Third's person pov:
The ceremony took place in a hall fit for royalty, a place where power, history, and tradition seemed to bleed into every inch of the walls. The grandeur of the Royal Palace's ballroom was unmatched, and it exuded an air of majesty that seemed to be woven into the very fabric of the Kingdom itself. The throne room had been transformed into a space that practically pulsed with life and anticipation, draped in red and gold—the official colors of our Kingdom—creating a lavish contrast against the marble floors.
Rich, deep crimson carpets were meticulously laid across the floor, guiding every guest toward the imposing golden throne that stood in the center of the room. The throne itself was a work of art—intricately carved with ornate details, gilded in gold, and flanked by the proud coats of arms of the Draco pack. Every corner of the room was festooned with the finest decorations: vases filled with blood-red roses, and Alexandrian flowers, their delicate petals adding an ethereal charm to the space. On the left-hand side, a buffet laden with every conceivable delicacy—exquisite sweets, savory hors d'oeuvres, and an array of intoxicating drinks—tempted the guests as they mingled.
The high-ranking wolves began to file into the room, their elegant tuxedos and evening dresses creating a sea of shimmering fabrics and sharp cuts. Alphas, Betas, and Lunas gathered in small clusters, exchanging words and business, their voices a quiet hum that blended into the atmosphere. Omega wolves darted between groups, their movements a blur as they served drinks and catered to the needs of the guests. From somewhere deeper in the hall, the soft strains of classical music floated through the air, the orchestra playing in perfect harmony with the mood of the occasion. There was an air of excitement, of unity, as everyone waited for what was to come.
When the room was at its peak, the sound of trumpets suddenly pierced the air. Silence fell like a blanket, as the Council members, dressed in robes of fine velvet and brocade, entered one by one, each stepping into the spotlight with an air of quiet authority. Following them, the former King and Queen made their entrance, their regal posture a testament to years of leadership. The High Priest of Artemis—our goddess, our guide—walked solemnly in front of them, his robes trailing behind him, signaling the sacredness of the moment.
And then, it was his turn. Maximus. The new King.
The moment the doors opened, all eyes turned. He entered the room with a slow, deliberate grace, his presence alone commanding the room. He wore the traditional royal uniform—his white jacket adorned with gleaming metals, reflecting the soft light of the chandeliers above. His pants were tailored perfectly, with a single white stripe running down the sides, a symbol of purity and rank. A golden sword rested on his belt, the handle decorated with three small emeralds that glinted in the light.
As he stepped into the room, the air seemed to shift. It was not just his appearance—it was the sheer weight of his power that filled the space, an almost tangible force that made everyone unconsciously bow in reverence. The room held its collective breath, recognizing that the one who now stood before them was a leader not only by title but by the very essence of his being. His aura was a force unto itself, rich with dominance, wisdom, and something darker—something primal.
The Council members, seated to the right of the throne, stood as one, acknowledging the presence of their new King. The former King and Queen settled into their elevated seats, a show of respect for the position, though their own time had passed. The High Priest moved to stand before the throne, his hands clasped, waiting for Maximus to approach.
With a steady, unwavering pace, Maximus walked toward the throne. Each step was calculated, measured, as if he were walking into the very heart of his destiny. The High Priest began to chant softly, the ancient words asking for the blessing of Artemis, a prayer to guide the new King on his path. The room fell into an almost reverent silence, the weight of the moment settling over everyone present.
When Maximus reached the throne, he stopped just a few feet away. The High Priest extended a ceremonial knife to him, its blade gleaming in the soft light. Beside him, a golden cup was held out. With calm precision, Maximus cut his hand, his blood dripping down in three deliberate drops. The room was still, all eyes on him as he spoke the sacred words of the oath, his voice steady, yet laced with the gravity of the moment.
-"I, Maximillian Augustus Drako," he began, his words ringing clear through the silence, "swear under blood oath to serve my kind as best I can, to protect the Kingdom and its subjects from any potential threat with my own life, and to ensure peace and prosperity among us."
His voice was a vow, a promise that settled deep into the hearts of all who heard it. The weight of the words hung in the air, powerful and unyielding. His oath had been taken—there was no turning back. The Kingdom had a new King.
The High Priest, with a solemn yet steady hand, placed the crown upon Maximus's head. The golden circlet gleamed as it settled, signifying not only the physical weight of the crown but the immense responsibility that now rested upon his shoulders. The room seemed to hold its breath, the moment stretching longer than time itself.
-"I present to you, your rightful King," the High Priest declared, his voice carrying with reverence through the hall.
A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd. The applause was deafening, a unified sound of adoration and respect that filled every corner of the room.
-"Heil the new King! May the Goddess bless him and protect him. Maximus! Maximus! Maximus!" they chanted in unison, their voices rising in a collective roar that echoed through the grand halls of the Royal Palace.
Maximus stood tall, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces below him—some familiar, others new, but all now under his reign. The weight of their gaze settled on him like the crown on his head, but he stood unflinching. He was King now, and he would wear that title with the strength that had led him here.
Raising his hand, his fingers glimmering with gold rings, Maximus called for silence. The room obeyed immediately, the noise of the crowd falling to a hushed murmur. It was a stark contrast to the deafening applause that had just reverberated through the air.
His voice, calm yet commanding, filled the silence as he began to speak. "Members of the Council, Alphas, Lunas, and Betas, ladies and gentlemen..." he began, pausing for a moment, as if gathering the weight of his words. His eyes moved over the crowd, every face a reminder of the kingdom he now led. "As many of you may know, I am not a man of great speeches. I am not one for endless words, nor do I wish to bore you with promises." He chuckled softly, a fleeting moment of warmth before his expression hardened with conviction. "I am a man of deeds."
His gaze sharpened as he continued, his voice gaining strength with each word. "And I promise you this—under my reign, our Kingdom will grow stronger. We will prosper together, as a united people, forging a future that is worthy of the sacrifices that have brought us here. But above all, there is one thing I want to prevail above all else during my rule—peace. Peace for all wolves, peace among the packs, and peace for our future."
The weight of his words hung in the air, resonating deeply within the hearts of all who listened. His oath was not just a promise—it was a commitment to the Kingdom and its people. His leadership would be defined not by the wars fought or the enemies defeated, but by the tranquility he would cultivate, the unity he would create.
Maximus's eyes lingered for a moment longer, scanning the room. His gaze briefly flickered to the empty seat beside the throne—the seat reserved for his Queen. A pang of longing surged within him, but he quickly suppressed it. There was work to do, a Kingdom to unite, and a future to build. Adelina, his mate, would return to him in time.
But for now, the Kingdom was his responsibility. The people needed a King they could trust—a King who would honor his promises, not with mere words, but with actions that would speak louder than any speech ever could.
-"I am not perfect," he added, his voice softening just slightly, "but I will always strive to be the King this Kingdom deserves. I ask for your trust, your loyalty, and your strength as we move forward. Together."
With that, he lowered his hand, and the crowd erupted again into applause, their cheers now laced with genuine hope and admiration. Maximus stood tall, his heart pounding in his chest, the weight of leadership settling upon him in a way that felt both daunting and empowering.
End of False Expectations Chapter 49. Continue reading Chapter 50 or return to False Expectations book page.