Chapter 33 The Set-up
Aurelia
Zhayad’s roar hit the corridor like a physical blow, and everyone instantly froze like someone had pressed a pause button.
The male gripping my hair released me so fast I stumbled forward. It was a miracle I didn't hit my head on the tiled floor.
The cuffs bit into my wrists as my arms dropped, my shoulders screaming from the strain.
The silver mark flickered weakly, dimmed by the magic-dampening iron, but it still pulsed once, answering him, responding to our bond.
He stood at the far end of the hallway looking every bit like the lord of the underworld.
His eyes were pure fire, like he could cause the whole building to explode by just glaring.
The bond roared between us, fury, and protectiveness crashing through me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
“What is going on here?” The question was quiet. Deadly quiet.
Ravina recovered first, her crocodile tears still glistening on her cheeks. She stepped forward, her voice trembling with rehearsed grief.
“Alpha… your Luna attacked Irina. She used her cursed magic… just look at my daughter! She’s bleeding out, and she's not healing like she's supposed to—”
Zhayad lifted his hand to hush her, as if she was an irritation. His gaze stayed locked on me, taking in the cuffs, my dishevelled hair, the blood on my feet from the broken glass, and the way my gown hung torn and askew.
He crossed the distance in three strides, his boots ringing on the stone marble.
The crowd parted like water before a storm.
He stopped in front of me, then reached out and cupped my jaw, tilting my face up so he could see every mark, every bruise.
His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth where my split lip had started bleeding.
His eyes darkened further.
“Who put cuffs on my mate?” His tone was hard like steel, and I could tell everyone was afraid of what he might do if they confessed.
No one answered. He looked up, slowly, canning the circle of faces.
“Who touched her?”
Silence.
His voice dropped lower, taking on a lethal quality.
“I asked a question.”
The male who’d fisted my hair stepped forward, shoulders squared, trying to look brave.
“She attacked Irina. We were restraining—”
Zhayad moved faster than thought. One hand shot out, closed around the male’s throat, and lifted him off the floor.
The shifter’s feet dangled, eyes bulging. Everyone gasped collectively, but their Alpha seemed to pay them no mind.
Everyone gasped collectively, a sharp, collective intake of breath that echoed off the stone walls like a single heartbeat skipping.
“Who authorized you to lay your hands on my mate?” Zhayad’s growl rolled lethally, each syllable carved from steel.
His fingers tightened around the male’s throat, watching the shifter’s face purple, his eyes bulging as he choked and wheezed, his claws scrabbling uselessly against Zhayad’s iron grip.
“Do you realize she is your superior?”
The question wasn’t asked.It was pronounced, like a sentence, like a verdict.
The male’s legs kicked feebly. Air rattled in his crushed windpipe.
Zhayad leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper that somehow carried to every corner of the corridor.
“I don’t care if you’re directly under my command. Spread the word. Let it reach every ear in this pack, every warrior, every elder, every pup old enough to understand.”
He lifted the male higher so his boots was dangling inches above the ground.
“Whoever lays a hand on my mate ever again…”
His lips peeled back, his fangs fully extended now, revealing his onyx fang. “…will be fed to the wild beasts of the fields.”
He said it calmly, almost conversationally, like he was discussing patrol rotations or harvest yields.
That made it worse. The absolute certainty. The quiet promise of savagery wrapped in perfect control.
The shifter’s eyes rolled back, and a wet gurgle escaped his throat.
Zhayad opened his hand, and the male dropped, crumpling in a heap, gasping, coughing blood onto the floor.
Zhayad didn’t spare him another glance. He turned to the rest of the pack, guards, witnesses, Ravina still kneeling beside Irina’s unconscious body.
His gaze swept them once, meeting every eye. No one dared move. Then he spoke again, his voice carrying without effort, without raising in volume.
“Anyone who forgets that warning…” He stepped over the choking male like he was debris. “…will remind the rest why I am Alpha.”
That being said, he lowered to my level and scooped me up. They all parted for him out of terror, afraid of what he might do next.
Zhayad jerked his head toward a shifter-guard who had slipped in behind him. He’d been silent throughout, but his eyes were wide at the scene.
“Take the pack matron to the holding cell,” he ordered, his voice flat and his words final. “I want her confined for two weeks. No visitors. No privileges.”
The guard straightened, shock flickering across his face before he masked it.
“She should have stopped this madness before it escalated,” Zhayad continued, each word measured, cutting. “Instead she encouraged it. You will learn to be a better leader… or you will learn what happens when you fail your Luna.”
The guard bowed sharply. “Yes, Alpha.”
Ravina’s composure shattered to pieces.
She flung herself at Zhayad's feet, dropping to her knees, her hands clawing at the hem of his trousers.
“Alpha, please, have mercy!”
Her voice cracked, high, desperate, all pretense of dignity gone.
“I was merely fighting for your life, for your legacy! She was going to poison you! Irina tried to stop her! You can search the Luna right now, check her and see the poisonous syrup for yourself! See if I’m lying!”
“You are crossing your boundaries.” Zhayad said flatly.
Meanwhile, my heart was up in my throat. She'd twisted the situation around to favour her. I was with the syrup, and I couldn't just use my magic to make it disappear.
“Alpha, search her, please. I simply want justice.” Ravina continued.
The corridor went deathly still.
Every eye turned to me, searching, accusing, and waiting.
Zhayad's fingers probed my night robe, and smoothly, he pulled out the syrup.