Danielle was a light sleeper. But on this day, her wolf was feeling particularly lazy, which made her not get up at all until someone banged on her door. She woke up with a start and freaked out when she saw the time. "Oh, my god! My escape plans!" She whispered.

She quickly opened the door. Cole, the beta, stood there nervously. "Uh, alpha? Something very important." He paused, taking in her bed hair. He whimpered at the thought of the consequences. "The king will be here in fifteen minutes. I think you should get ready."

Danielle jumped back on the bed like a frightened cat. "The king?" she asked loudly.

Wincing at the volume, Cole nodded.

"Why did no one tell me?" She raged through gritted teeth. Cole shrank back.

"It probably... just... slipped our minds?" He replied nervously.

"Agh! Go, go, go! I need to get ready." She shooed him away. Ten minutes later, she was bathed and ready with her usual t-shirt and slacks and a messy bun with no make-up. Everything efficient.

She went down the stairs and saw everyone lined up in formation outside. There was a team at the pack borders too, she was sure. She went and hid among the girls in the pack, not wanting to draw any attention. At that moment, she realised that Lupa was being weird. First with being extremely lethargic that morning, and second with not running away at the thought of seeing the royals. It was very possible for her to be put on trial because of that man being killed by her if the royals caught and identified her. She was risking so much because Lupa was averse to leaving right away.

Soon, hushed whispers passed around. 'He's here!', 'he's coming!' etc. Danielle stifled an eye-roll at the excitement they showed. But she would be a hypocrite to do that as her stupidly bizarre wolf seemed to be acting that way too. She sighed, waiting to get over with this.

A royal inspection though? she mused. Hadn't happened in years. Decades. Why was there one this time? As she contemplated the possibilities, the buzz around her increased and so did the noise level. On the horizon, she could see a fleet of cars coming towards the pack house. Mere minutes later, they stopped before the house. A chauffeur came running to the side and opened the door. From the third vehicle, Sean and Grace stepped out. From the second, McCall, the secretary to the king stepped out. He looked clean-cut and bland as he ideally should. Efficiency. Danielle approved.

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Then she turned her to the first car, where everyone's eyes were on. His trousered feet stepped out first. Then his whole being. Danielle felt like she had been sucker punched. He wore glasses, so she couldn't see his eyes. But the rest of what she could see consumed her as a whole. She didn't recognise this feeling. This wasn't a mere attraction. This was... this was destruction. He didn't wear a suit. He wore a t-shirt and jeans. Efficient.

He was not built bulkily nor was he lanky and thin. He was lean with power in each muscle. His firm thighs were accentuated by those jeans, making many girls drool. He had tousled, black hair which looked as if it could never be tamed.

Danielle was stiff with shock. Because this wasn't what unnerved her. It was the scent. His scent, goddess help me. That mouthwatering scent of everything she loved, chocolate, green grass and the woods. She lifted her feet to walk towards him but stopped herself.

He was the king.

She was a fugitive.

Best to remember that. But what she was suspecting, she couldn't be sure of yet. Masochistically, she stayed back without running. She watched as he turned her back to her. As he removed his glasses while she couldn't see. As he shook hands with Sean. As he entered the pack house. As the entire pack knelt on one knee. As she refused to kneel before anyone because both her and Lupa were in agreement on that.

There was stunned silence in the room. A girl next to her tried to tug at her hand, but she couldn't move a finger of Danielle's. Danielle was simply looking at him, shocked. He stiffened even before he saw her disrespect. His nostrils flared. His startling green eyes narrowed. His head swung in her direction. Looking at her deer-in-the-headlights look, he knew she knew too. He was in a daze, in no better state.

McCall hurried behind him and stated, "Sire, her name is—"

The king raised a hand to silence him. He blinked, unable to believe that that beautiful creature was all for him. "Wh-" his voice came out hoarse. Clearing his throat, he asked, "What's your name?"

She broke out of the stunned stupor she was in. Clearing her throat, she said, "Danielle. Danielle's my name. What's yours?"

A wave of gasps at the continuous disrespect could be heard. Sean was pissing in his pants. He didn't want anything to happen to his friend; he could only appeal for the king to have mercy.

But unlike everyone's expectations, A slow curve appeared on the king's lips. He absolutely loved her question. She was daring him, daring him to appear normal, daring him to go down to her level or bring her up to his level. "Fair enough," he said in a low tone. "The name's Alexander Ernest Fallon Frederick Remington."

"I think I'll remember that," she murmured. Taken aback, Alexander threw his head back and laughed. It was a laugh full of joy and merriment. He was beyond happy; he was ecstatic. She smiled a little too. His laugh was infectious. She stepped past all the girls around her and stood before him. She stretched her hand touched his. This wave of gasps couldn't compare to the electrified feeling the two people experienced. They slowly looked into each other's eyes. Hers turned silver. His turned gold. Sparks flew between them as they continued to touch each other's hands.

"Mate." They simply stated, their fingers entwined.