Russel was breathing hard, his entire body wracked with more pain than he ever felt before. Not even the fight with the ghouls and getting impaled by one of their talon-claws had anything on what his father did to him. At his feet, he saw Carter’s corpse. Was the skin already going pale? Did that happen that fast or was he losing his mind? He wasn’t sure and also wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer one way or the other. What he did know was that somehow, he actually won the challenge. Carter Ismael Polver, the 23rd king of Oclan, was dead and he had beaten him.

That now made him the king. The 24th king.

The entire room suddenly went stone cold silent. Everyone went still. Even the sounds of Lola crying stopped. He glanced over and found her staring at him, her eyes wide with shock. Everyone’s eyes, he noticed, were wide with shock. Not a single person in that throne room had any clue what just happened. Which included Russel, despite the fact that he had been the one doing all the fighting. Somehow, his father had gotten paralyzed at the last moment which gave him the ability to pull out the last-second victory.

His ribs still hurt. His face too. Pretty much everything, really. But he stood up fully and stood proud. His face was a swollen and bruised lump but Russel could feel the bones, cuts, and other damage start to heal. Eventually, he knew, all that pain and misery would vanish and he would be whole again.

A serious, intense look crossed his features and he began walking toward the obsidian throne. His eyes never wavered as he did and when he finally got to it, he turned and slowly, methodically, sat down. Blood covered most of his body but he didn’t care. He needed to show his strength now.

He closed his eyes for a moment and then took a deep, steadying breath. He felt a serious influx of strength coursing through him then, which helped to speed up the healing process. Dimly, he could hear his name being called but he wasn’t ready to open his eyes again just yet. He took another breath and then another one.

After a full minute, he finally opened his eyes again.

They glowed with bright blue light.

As soon as they did, his brothers dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. Zeo and Enok did the same. The rest of the throne room, however, was completely empty so there was no one else but Lola to offer that sort of tribute and she was too confused to follow suit.

However, now that she’d been freed from the grasp of Zeo and Enok, she ran to him. The two tried to get up and grab hold of her again but Russel stopped them with a raised hand and nothing else.

“I thought you were going to die,” she said, once she got to the throne. She was crying again as she crushed him in a hug. She didn’t care that he was the king of Oclan now and it was mostly likely improper. Rules, protocols, social expectations were all tossed completely out the window and she couldn't care less. She just watched the man she loved almost get killed right in front of her eyes. She was going to hug the crap out of him and she didn’t care who saw her.

Russel didn’t say anything for a few minutes. He was still in shock. Still trying to process everything that just happened.

“I thought I was going to die too,” he said but so softly she was the only one that heard him.

“Do you need a doctor? You’re in very bad shape,” she whispered to him, also making sure to say it so quietly only he could hear her. She’d learned a lot about werewolves in her travels with Russel but the biggest bit of information she picked up was that they couldn’t appear weak.

Especially the king.

“No,” he answered. “I’ll be fine eventually. My body will heal and now that I have the power of the alpha and king, that should happen a whole lot faster now.”

“Are you sure?”

Just looking at him, she could see so many terrible wounds still covering his body. He must have been in so much pain, how could he not see someone?

“Yes,” he said with a barely perceptible nod. “I’ll be fine. Trust me.”

He gave her a small smile but still looked so exhausted. And in pain. She smiled back. He gestured for her to let him up and she stood off to the side of the throne. He got to his feet, a look of pain still on his face, but he seemed to be moving much better despite all his injuries. When he was back on his feet, he looked to his brothers who were all looking expectantly at him. Some still had looks of shock in their eyes but at least one looked so unhappy his eyes burned with hatred.

Roland.

As the firstborn son, when the time came, he should have had the first chance to challenge their father for leadership. It was sort of an unspoken rule amongst werewolf kind. It was true that any could issue the challenge at any time, but it was still typically done by the firstborn son or daughter first. Russel had just broken that unspoken rule and Roland was not happy about it. The fact that Russel had won only made it worse.

“Come forward, brothers,” Russel said, his voice deep and full of authority that hadn’t been there before, or at least, not that Lola had ever heard.

Roland, Raylan, Rutger, and Reid all walked over to stand in front of the throne. They stared at Russel and waited patiently for him to speak. Despite hating their brother to the core, he had won the challenge. The rules were clear now, no matter how much they might detest it.

“Swear fealty to me, the twenty-fourth king of Oclan, so you shall obtain the right to remain here in your homeland. Any of you who would deny this request of mine, will find themselves banished from Oclan until I see fit to allow your return,” Russel said. They were words that almost every king of Oclan was forced to utter as soon as they took over the throne, mostly because of the bloody and violent nature of how a new Oclan monarch ascended to leadership.

One by one, each brother stepped forward and bent down on one knee. They crossed their right fists over their chests and didn’t take their eyes off him. Then they said the words.

“I swear fealty to you, King Russel Arthur Polver, twenty-fourth king of Oclan. Long may you reign!”