Chapter 86 Failure - Amelia’s POV
Three days of failure had settled into my bones like a chill I couldn't shake. Three days of reaching for Kaela only to slam into that invisible wall between us, three days of her howls echoing through my mind with growing desperation. Each attempt left me more exhausted than the last, curled on the floor of Aleksandr's private training room with tears streaming down my face while he watched helplessly, unable to mend what was broken inside me. But this morning felt different. As I opened my eyes to the soft golden light filtering through the curtains of our bedroom, a strange calm had replaced yesterday's despair. I couldn't shift, but there were other barriers I could break. Other demons I could face.
'You're thinking about him,' Kaela observed, her presence in my mind softer than it had been during our failed attempts to merge. 'About Marcus.'
'Yes,' I admitted silently, stretching beneath the heavy duvet. Aleksandr's side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool beneath my palm. He'd probably been up for hours already, dealing with the aftermath of Kane and Blackthorn's treason. 'I need to see him.'
Kaela's response wasn't immediate. I felt her weighing her thoughts, considering her words. 'Why now?'
It was a fair question. Marcus Blackwater had been my nightmares made flesh for years, the man who had taken me in as a child only to discard me when I failed to shift at sixteen. The man who had allowed Beta Dominic to use me as a punching bag, who had looked the other way when Elena's cruelty crossed from verbal to physical. He was rotting in a cell now. Why disturb that perfect justice with a visit?
'Because I'm still afraid of him,' I admitted, the truth bitter on my tongue even in silent conversation. 'Even now. Even after everything. When I think of him, I still feel like that girl trembling in the basement. And I can't be that girl anymore. Not if I want to be Queen.'
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, pressing my bare feet against the cool floor. My reflection in the mirror across the room caught my attention—dark hair tumbling over my shoulders, mismatched eyes still heavy with sleep, wearing one of Aleksandr's shirts that hung to mid-thigh. I looked nothing like a queen. But I didn't look like a servant girl anymore, either.
'Walking away from Elena at the ball felt good,' Kaela reminded me, a note of pride colouring her mental voice. 'This could too.'
She was right. That brief moment of confrontation with Elena had been cathartic—turning my back on the woman who had tormented me for years, refusing to engage with her manipulations. But Elena had always been the more openly cruel one. Marcus was different. Quieter. More calculating. His betrayal had cut deeper because I remembered—however faintly—what it had been like when he'd treated me as a daughter. Before I became a disappointment. Before I became worthless.
I moved to the massive closet that now held my clothes alongside Aleksandr's, selecting a simple blue dress and boots. Not the finery I'd been given as the Alpha King's mate, but not servant's garb either. Something in between—practical but dignified. Armour, of a sort.
As I dressed, I felt Kaela's restlessness, the frustration that had become our constant companion since that day in the forest. She wanted to run, to hunt, to feel the earth beneath our paws. But the barrier remained immovable, no matter how fiercely she threw herself against it.
'Stop,' I told her gently, wincing as her efforts sent a lance of pain through my temple. 'You'll just hurt us both.'
'I hate this,' she growled, the words thick with anguish. 'We were so close, Amelia. So close to being whole.'
I pressed my fingertips to my temples, breathing through the echo of her pain. 'I know. But Nora's looking into it. She'll find something.'
But even as I offered the reassurance, doubt gnawed at me. Nora had been researching curses for three days now, poring over ancient texts in the royal library, consulting with seers and mystics from across the kingdom. So far, she'd found nothing, no explanation for why I'd been able to shift once but not again, no further connection between my condition and Aleksandr's centennial curse. With each passing day, the hope that had flared so brightly during my dramatic rescue began to dim.
I found Aleksandr in the private dining room adjoining our chambers. He sat at the table with a cup of coffee in one hand and reports spread before him, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up as I entered, his severe features softening into a smile that still made my heart skip.
"Good morning," he said, rising from his chair with that fluid grace that belied his enormous size. He crossed to me in two long strides, bending to press a kiss to my forehead. "How did you sleep?"
"Better," I admitted, leaning into his solid warmth for a moment. "No nightmares."
That, at least, was an improvement. The first night after my failed attempt in the forest, I'd woken screaming, trapped in dreams where I was back in that basement cell, wolfsbane burning through my veins while Kaela howled helplessly within me. Aleksandr had held me through it, his massive arms a shelter against the terrors of my own mind.
He guided me to the table where an array of breakfast foods awaited, far more than I could possibly eat, but Aleksandr insisted on ensuring I had options. Still making up for years of deprivation, though he never said as much aloud.
I selected a slice of toast and some fruit, settling into my chair as Aleksandr resumed his place across from me. For a few moments, we ate in comfortable silence. I could feel him watching me, gauging my mood, my energy level. His protectiveness was a constant, sometimes stifling but mostly reassuring.
"I want to see Marcus today," I said finally, meeting his gaze directly.
Aleksandr's hand stilled, his coffee cup halfway to his lips. His eyes, dark and intense, narrowed slightly. "Why?"