Page 46 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

"She's in this palace," he said.

The room erupted.

"She is—" Malcolm's gaze swept everyone present, finally settling on me. "Your Majesty's fated mate. Mia Turner."

I felt like someone punched me in the chest.

"You're joking." My voice came out colder than I expected. "She's mute. Can't even make a sound. How the hell does she control minds?"

"The voice is sealed, Your Majesty." Malcolm stared into my eyes. "But that doesn't mean it's gone. The seal is weakening. Once it breaks completely, she'll become this kingdom's greatest threat."

"Ridiculous." I stood, palms flat on the table. "She couldn't hurt a fly. You're telling me she can destroy a nation?"

"Your Majesty—"

"Enough." I cut him off. "This discussion ends here. I won't allow anyone to touch her."

The elders exploded.

"Your Majesty! The prophet's words cannot be ignored!"

"Are we gambling with the entire kingdom's safety?"

"She may be mute, but she could bring catastrophe to the nation."

"I said enough!" I slammed my palm on the table, making the teacups jump. "She's my fated mate. Are you planning to oppose me?"

The chamber fell silent. The elders exchanged glances, but no one spoke.

I turned and walked out, heart pounding like a drum. My wolf circled restlessly inside, growling low, like a warning.

Damn it.

I didn't believe Malcolm's words. Sirens, curses—sounded like the old man inhaled too much poppy on the road. Mia? Destroy the kingdom? She couldn't even defend herself. How could she control minds?

But the unease coiled around my spine like a cold snake, slowly tightening.

The next few days, a strange atmosphere hung over the palace.

The elders stopped discussing it openly, but I knew they were talking in private. Edmund told me several radical elders were already planning countermeasures—they believed the prophet's words completely, so they feared the coming disaster.

"Your Majesty, they want her executed." Edmund lowered his voice. "If you refuse, they might—"

"Might what?"

"Might take extreme measures."

I laughed coldly. "Let them try."

But I knew this wasn't sustainable. I couldn't guard her twenty-four hours a day, and more importantly, the prophet's words would cause mass panic. If I didn't take some action, the entire nation's opposition would press down on me. Then I couldn't protect her.

I had to make a concession. At least one that looked like a concession.

The thought made my stomach turn. Send her away—wasn't that what she wanted? When she came begging me to let her go, I acted like an asshole and drove her off. Now I had to send her away myself, not because I'd come to my senses, but because a bunch of old men threatened to kill her.

How ironic.

But I had no choice.