Chapter 59: Chapter Fifty-nine

Chapter 59

Lia’s POV

The first pale light of dawn crept through the narrow windows, brushing Edgar’s face in muted gold. He was already awake, though exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. He had barely slept through the night, his breathing uneven, his body restless against the sheets.

I sat beside him, brushing my fingers lightly over his hand. Even in silence, I could feel the storm gathering inside him, a storm he would never voice but one I knew all too well. His body was frail. It scared me, that stubbornness. It scared me because it was the very thing that kept him alive, and the very thing that could kill him.

I wanted him to stay, to let the world wait until he had regained the strength he so desperately needed. But I knew what he was thinking even before his eyes finally shifted toward me. He believed that if he refused the council, he would have already lost before stepping into the room. He would not allow them to paint him as a shadow of himself. And yet, my heart burned with dread at the thought of him collapsing in front of them, of giving them that satisfaction.

Before I could argue with him, Elena entered the chamber. Her cloak was drawn tightly around her shoulders, her expression sharp with purpose. She did not need to speak for me to understand, but the look in her eyes confirmed what I already feared. The council had prepared the chamber for him, setting a table with food and wine. A performance cloaked as civility, with danger hiding beneath its surface.

I exchanged a glance with her, and though no words passed between us, I understood her meaning clearly: poison.

My fingers tightened around Edgar’s hand. The thought of him touching even a drop of that wine filled me with dread, a cold sickness curling in my stomach. I imagined the bitterness of poison disguised as luxury, sliding down his throat and snuffing out what little strength he still carried.

But Edgar had already made up his mind. He forced his body upright, his face twisting briefly with pain before smoothing into the mask of strength he wore for the world. His strength might have been fading, but his pride was iron.

There was no convincing him otherwise. He would face them. He would meet their eyes. And he would not flinch.

I wanted to cry out, to hold him down, to beg him not to do this, but the words caught in my throat. He was already in motion, and once Edgar Nolan set his path, nothing could sway him. Not even me.

Still, I could not shake the terror that wrapped itself around me like a noose.

When we entered the council chamber, the air was thick with the smell of roasted meat and spiced wine. It was heavy and cloying, too rich, as though it had been staged not for nourishment but for show. The council sat waiting, their robes pooled like shadows around their chairs. Every eye turned toward Edgar as he entered, measuring him, assessing whether the Alpha who had been weakened was still worthy of the seat he claimed.

Brie’s gaze was the sharpest of all. Her eyes lifted immediately to him, and though her lips curved into a smile, it carried no warmth. It was the smile of a predator circling its prey. She had always worn her confidence like a blade, and today she sharpened it at his expense.

Edgar lowered himself into the chair at the head of the table. He moved slowly, deliberately, ensuring every action conveyed control, not frailty. He met each of their eyes in turn, holding them, never allowing the tremor in his hands to betray him.

Elena and I took our places at his sides. The servants moved quickly, placing plates before us, filling goblets with deep crimson wine. My chest tightened at the sight of it. The wine gleamed in the torchlight, thick and rich, but I could almost taste the bitterness of what had been hidden within it.

Brie raised her goblet with that same calculated smile. Her gesture was an invitation and a test. The council’s eyes shifted to Edgar, waiting to see if he would rise to the occasion.

Edgar reached for his cup, his fingers steady though I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat. The moment stretched unbearably. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. The thought of him drinking even a drop nearly drove me to madness.

Before he could bring it to his lips, I moved. My hand closed over his wrist, halting him. I felt the silent fire of his gaze on me, but when he let me take the cup, I knew he understood. This was my burden to bear.

The chamber was silent as I lifted the goblet. Every pair of eyes was fixed on me. The scent of the wine rose heavy in my nostrils, laced with spice, but beneath it was something sharper, crueler. My stomach churned, but I brought it to my lips.

I let only the faintest sip touch my tongue. It was enough. The bitterness was undeniable, a sour poison wrapped in fragrance. It spread across my mouth, and I fought to keep my face calm as I set the goblet back on the table.

The council was watching. Brie most of all. Her smile hadn’t faltered, but I saw the flicker in her eyes, the brief tightening at the corners of her mouth. She knew. She knew I had tasted it. And she knew the truth was already slipping beyond her grasp.

I let my eyes sweep across the table, meeting the gazes of the others. Some looked uneasy, others wary. None of them wanted to speak, but their silence said more than words ever could.

Edgar leaned forward, his hands gripping the table as he claimed the moment. His voice cut across the chamber, low and steady, carrying the weight of truth.

The council stirred. Malrick leaned forward, his expression careful, measured, but I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. Whispers rippled through the room, sharp and uncertain.

Brie’s mask began to falter. Her eyes glittered with defiance, but cracks had begun to show. She was losing ground, and she knew it.

The silence grew suffocating. No one dared speak the truth aloud, but the truth was there, undeniable and heavy. Poison had been poured at the Alpha’s table.

Edgar rose from his chair. His body trembled with the effort, but he stood tall, commanding the space around him. The weight of his presence filled the chamber, even as his strength waned.

He made his declaration, his vow that he would not fall quietly, that his enemies would not succeed in shadows. The words carried finality, a warning that echoed in the silence.

The council could not answer. Not then. They sat in silence, drowning in the weight of what they had attempted and failed to achieve.