His hands clenched into fists. “If they try to harm you-”
“They won’t. Because you won’t let them.” I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “Go. Before they decide your absence is more evidence of poor judgment.”
He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded once and turned to Aurion. “Have guards posted outside this room. No one enters except you or me.”
“Already done.”
They left together and the door closed behind them. I heard Mal giving orders to the guards outside, his voice muffled through the thick wood.
Then silence descended on the training room. I was alone with mats and dummies and the knowledge that a council of wolves was about to decide my fate, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it except wait.
21
— • —
Malachar
I was fuming.
Not just angry. Fuming. The kind of rage that made my wolf claw at my insides, demanding to be let out. Demanding blood.
Amaia had insulted my mate. Called her a whore in front of half the noble families in the castle. And I had not been there to stop it. Had not been there to put that woman in her place the way she deserved.
The only thing stopping me from storming into that dining room and making a scene that would give the council even more ammunition was my mother.
She had found me in the corridor outside the dining room and grabbed my arm before I could do something spectacularly stupid. Her grip was iron despite her smaller size.
“Malachar. Breathe.” Her voice had been firm with that commanding tone only mothers could master. “Going in there with your eyes glowing red will not help Wen. You need to be calm. You need to think.”
“She called her a whore,” I had growled. My hands were already sprouting claws. My vision was tinged red at the edges.
“I know. I just heard what happened from Lady Thorne. And from what she told me, Wen handled it beautifully. Threw water directly in Amaia’s face and soaked her completely.” Mother’s lips had twitched with amusement despite the gravity of the situation. “That girl has fire. I like her more every day. But now the council will be involved. You need to be the king, not the mate. Can you do that?”
I had forced myself to breathe. To push down the rage enough to think with some semblance of clarity. “Yes.”
“Good. Now go find your mate. Make sure she is safe. Reassure her. Then prepare yourself for the council meeting that is inevitable. Because Amaia will push for punishment, and Andreas’s supporters will use this as an opportunity to undermine you.”
So I had reached out through the bond. Found Wen’s presence in my mind, that golden thread that connected us. Sent my thoughts to her even though it took effort that made my temples throb with the strain.
Training room three.
I had gone to her. Had held her. Had tried to gauge exactly how furious she was with me this time.
Very furious, as expected. But not as much as those first few days after I had dragged her through the portal. Not as much as when she had refused to even look at me. That was progress. Small progress, microscopic even, but I would take what I could get.
Things had been looking promising. Training together, touching her under the guise of correcting her form. The way she had moved, the way she had looked at me when she ended up straddling me on the mat with our faces inches apart.
That kiss.
Gods,that kiss.A week without touching her properly had been absolute torture. Feeling her grind against me, hearing that small moan escape into my mouth, had nearly broken my control completely. I had been seconds away from tearing our clothes off and taking her right there on the training mat regardless of where we were.
Then Aurion had interrupted with news of the council meeting and Amaia’s complaint, shattering the moment and dragging us back into the political nightmare I had been dreading.
Now I was standing in the middle of the council chamber, surrounded by nobles who all had opinions they felt the desperate need to scream at maximum volume. As if volume made them more correct. As if shouting would change reality.
“The human must be punished!”
“She assaulted a lady of the court!”
