Chapter 93

SPENCER

Setting foot in Maggie’s home for the first time was like stepping into a different world—a world I hadn’t expected. The Black brothers had always struck me as sharp, strategic, and disciplined, so I assumed their mother’s home would reflect that same no-nonsense attitude. I was wrong.

The place was a riot of color and whimsy, with walls painted in bold hues and an eclectic mix of furniture that seemed to have been collected over decades. There were plants everywhere, draping from the ceiling, crowding the windowsills, and filling every corner with vibrant green. Odd knick-knacks and strange sculptures adorned the shelves, each one more peculiar than the last. It was the kind of home that had a life of its own, where every object seemed to have a story.

And then there was Maggie herself, bustling around with an energy that belied her age. She was a force of nature, her presence filling the room as she moved about, offering tea and snacks, fussing over everyone as if we were all children again. I couldn’t help but be taken aback by how different she was from her sons, yet in some strange way, it made sense. It was clear where they got their strength, their stubbornness, and their fierce loyalty.

But what caught my attention most was Isabella. Maggie kept calling her “Zaza,” a nickname that seemed completely ridiculous for someone as regal and composed as her. Every time Maggie said it, I felt a twinge of annoyance—an odd, protective instinct that I still wasn’t entirely used to. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand affection or the comfort of familiarity, but the name didn’t seem to fit Isabella at all. She was grace personified, with a quiet strength that commanded respect. “Zaza” sounded too trivial, too dismissive of who she truly was.

I watched as Maggie fluttered around Isabella, fussing over her like a mother hen. Isabella took it all in stride, smiling warmly, her hand resting lightly on her growing belly. She seemed at ease here, comfortable in a way I hadn’t seen before. It was as if this home, with all its eccentricities, was a sanctuary for her. Despite my reservations about the nickname, I couldn’t deny that Maggie cared for her deeply, and that care was reciprocated.

Still, I kept my distance, observing as I always did. My job was to protect her, not to interfere in the dynamics of her relationships. Yet, every time Maggie called her “Zaza,” I found myself gritting my teeth. It felt like a small affront, a diminishment of her true status. But who was I to say anything? I was an outsider, a protector who had sworn an oath that went beyond understanding or personal feelings.

Maggie caught my eye once or twice, giving me a look that I couldn’t quite decipher—something between curiosity and amusement. She was an enigma, this woman who had raised three of the most formidable men I’d ever met, yet she moved through her life with a lightness that seemed almost at odds with the gravity of her sons’ ambitions.

As the day wore on, I kept my focus on Isabella. She was the reason I was here, the reason my instincts had been awakened after all these years. Whatever my personal feelings about the nickname or the eccentricities of this home, none of it mattered as long as she was safe. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that “Zaza” was a name for someone else, not for the woman who would one day be queen.

JAX

As we drove to the meeting, the air in the car was thick with anticipation. Asher was in the driver’s seat, his expression calm and composed, but I knew him well enough to see the gears turning in his head. Knox sat beside him, his eyes fixed on the road, his usual quiet intensity radiating off him. I was in the back, watching them both, feeling a mix of pride and anxiety.

Asher had always been the leader, the one with the vision and the drive to make things happen. He was the one who could walk into a room full of alphas and command respect without breaking a sweat. But this wasn’t just any meeting; this was about the future of our kind, about whether we would have a monarchy again, and if so, who would sit on that throne. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and while I trusted Asher with my life, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of what was to come.

When we arrived at the meeting place, a large, imposing building deep in neutral territory, I felt a shiver run down my spine. The other alphas were already gathering, their presence a mix of power and tension that hung in the air. Asher stepped out first, his movements deliberate and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. Knox and I followed, staying a step behind him, our roles clear: Asher would do the talking, and we would watch, observe, and protect.

Inside, the room was a grand hall, dimly lit and echoing with the low murmur of conversation. The alphas had formed small clusters, talking in hushed tones, their eyes flicking over to us as we entered. Asher walked through them with a steady confidence, nodding in greeting, exchanging pleasantries with those he knew, while Knox and I stayed close, our presence a reminder that he wasn’t alone.

The meeting began soon after, with the discussion quickly turning to the matter at hand: the reinstatement of the monarchy. It was clear from the start that opinions were divided. Some alphas were in favor, seeing it as a way to bring order and stability to our world. Others were more hesitant, wary of giving up their power and autonomy to a single ruler, no matter how strong.

Asher listened carefully, his expression never wavering, even as the debate grew more heated. He spoke when necessary, his words measured and persuasive, addressing concerns with a calm logic that was hard to argue against. Knox and I watched from the sidelines, our eyes scanning the room, noting who seemed swayed by Asher’s arguments and who remained unconvinced.

I couldn’t help but admire the way Asher handled himself. He was at ease, completely in his element, guiding the conversation without ever seeming to push too hard. He made it clear that the decision was in their hands, that this wasn’t about imposing his will but about doing what was best for our kind. It was a masterclass in diplomacy, and by the end of it, I could see that he had won over more than a few of the alphas.

The meeting concluded with a decision. They would vote on the matter just before Isabella’s due date, at a location that would be decided later. It would be the moment of truth, when the fate of our world would be determined, and when we would see if all of Asher’s careful planning would pay off.

As we left the meeting, I could see the determination in Asher’s eyes, the fire that had always driven him burning brighter than ever. Knox and I walked beside him in silence, both of us understanding what this meant. The road ahead was still uncertain, but one thing was clear: we were closer than ever to achieving what we had set out to do.

Back in the car, as we headed home, I finally allowed myself to relax a little. Asher had done what he did best, and now it was up to the rest of us to play our parts. But even as I settled into my seat, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the real challenges were still to come, that the decisions made today were just the beginning. And as much as I trusted Asher, I knew that we would all have to be ready for whatever came next.