Chapter 161: Feral Desire

☽ Bastian ☽

Days after the battle for IronWolf, I stood before a pack of restless wolves clamoring for leadership.

The ceremony hall was packed to the brim. Hail pelted the glass dome ceiling like it also demanded answers.

“Prince Bastian. We demand an explanation as to why you refused our demands for an alpha crowning ceremony. This plea is not just for the sake of revelry—you can’t deny that it would help the pack heal and move forward from the tragedies we’ve endured.”

The others cheered the speaker, an older wolf with a pronounced scar down his face.

He had most likely fought in the Crimson War. His eyes were wizened.

This was the second time we’d held such a gathering. Their requests were the same.

They wanted me to step up, stabilizing the pack after the brutal loss of Alpha Mordane.

Beneath my cold exterior, I sorely craved a reprieve.

To curl up within the sheets with my mate, basking in the quiet shadows she cocooned herself in.

Ever since the battle, she’d never left my room—only tracing from mine to hers and back, to the best of my knowledge.

She assured me she was well, taking her meals, either type, in bed. Listening to the birds sing from her window, reading the old tomes on our history.

But no. The pack had become a living, breathing thorn in my neck.

I cleared my throat, silencing the crowd.

“I’ve heard your petitions. I understand and respect your need for a gesture of security, solidarity, and unity. But there’s still much to work out. And I assure you, within a week, you will have the ceremony you seek.”

Ashar and Sorin stood behind me, faces grim.

No one was happy with the lull. Least of all me.

“Is it because of the princess consort?” a man shouted from the back.

I exhaled deeply from my chest. Here we go.

“We’ve all heard the rumors. So is it true? Is she Mordane’s halfling with the Crimson Queen? Is that why the alpha’s seat remains empty? Trouble in paradise?”

The hall shook with laughter.

My vision tunneled red.

In a flash, I launched my fist into the closest pillar, rocking the entire structure.

Disrespect was the one thing I would not tolerate.

The silence was deafening.

Through gritted teeth, I said, “Yes. It’s true. She is his true heir. And I am not. She may be your princess consort to IronWolf at this moment, but remember that she’s the queen of Veilmoor first.”

Murmurs swept through them.

“We are still deliberating on how best to handle succession. Rest easy, it doesn’t mean you’re unprotected or disregarded.”

“We will never accept a feral as our ruler,” someone spat. “Sacrilege!”

Soon, the uproar caught on. Wolves clamoring against what they didn’t understand.

Over the chaos, I snapped, “And has she given you any cause for concern since you discovered she was a hybrid with the wrath?”

“Same thing you people said before Mordane massacred innocent guards! My brother was one of those!” another seethed.

“I give you my word that my mate is in control. Far more than Mordane was.”

The uproar was immediate, thunderous.

“You expect us to accept that?” “We don’t want her!” “Take your throne, Bastian!”

“Order!” I barked, head splitting.

They quieted to murmurs and snarls.

“Those of you present during the battle for IronWolf, is your memory so fickle? Did you forget how she fought for this pack? Ordering the vampire regent herself to teleport the armies of Veilmoor to the battle?”

I swept my icy gaze over each one of them. “Do you think you would have defeated two thousand strong of a feral horde alone?”

The hall was silent as death.

I let them sit in that discomfort, let them replay the bloody carnage of that night.

“You will be the first to know when a decision has been reached. You’re dismissed.”

As the pack members filed out, I headed straight for my mate.

She still hated being apart from me—a trauma response from all she’d suffered. Whenever I had to leave, Gwen or Yara would occupy her, else she’d sink into a desolation so deep I feared for her mental health.

I took the steps four at a time, my chest tight from missing her.

We’d done nothing but comfort each other with soft words and a safe space in one another.

But nothing good was meant to last. Certainly not the queen of a vampire queendom locking herself up in a werewolf fortress.

She’d ignored all visits by her aunt Drusilla, who beseeched her to return to her queendom.

And as I reached the door to my chambers, I pondered just how this arrangement would work.

Maeve seemed too fragile to take on extra responsibility on top of the one she already tried to avoid.

From my very childhood, I’d trained and whipped myself into a shape fitting for a future alpha of the pack.

Learning my relationship, or lack thereof, to Alpha Mordane had been the ultimate rug pull.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t rankle as it could have.

I was focused on helping my mate heal. Helping her realize her strength within all the hardship.

I’d die before I let a crown come between us.

Her voice filtered from within the room as she spoke with Yara and Ren.

Judging by the giggles and whispers, the topic was highly inappropriate.

I found myself smiling at her obvious improvement from sulking in a gloomy room.

Clearing my throat to announce my presence, I pushed open the door.

And lost my breath.

Maeve had permitted the windows to be open for the first time. The orange sunset kissed a golden glow over her pale skin. She’d been in the middle of a joke, her eyes crinkled in laughter.

They quieted at my entrance.

The others took one discerning look at my face and bade her goodbye.

The doors closed behind them.

She walked toward me, platinum hair drawing my gaze to every inch of her skin it grazed.

Her arms locked behind my neck as she buried her face into my chest. “How was it?”

“The same. You look well.”

Her laughter tinkled. “Well?”

“Stunning. Dazzling.” I rasped. She truly was.

I’d missed seeing her like this. Open. Present.

“You’ve contributed immensely. Thank you, Bastian.”

Her eyes twinkled.

My veins heated at the innuendo.

Over the past few days, my mate had developed a preference for blood as her main meal.

The trace venom in her bite never failed to make me groan out in pleasure. The soft pulls of her lips around fangs sunk deep in my flesh were all-consuming.

I’d taken to wolfing down double portions to keep her satisfied. But I’d never made a sensual move. Neither had she.

We both still had a ways to go, to heal.

“You look hungry,” I teased. Her bite might just be what I needed to ease the tension from the meeting I’d just had.

“Mmmh… you always know when I am.”

“That’s because you’re insatiable.”

She blushed prettily. “Too much for you? Shall I find—“

I growled, “Don’t even complete that statement.”

“Well, big bad wolf. If you want to keep up with my appetites, you need to nourish yourself. Had dinner?”

“No, I came straight to you.”

Her fingers brushed my nape, sending a shiver through me. “As you should. Order something from the kitchens, then you can feed me.”

I decided to use the opportunity to coax her out of the room for once. “Come down with me.”

Her hands trembled slightly, but her smile remained. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait here. Like I always do.”

I locked eyes with her. “The world is too big for you to confine yourself here, kitten.”

“Just a few more days,” she murmured absently.

“You have to face it head-on, else you’ll never leave this room,” I said firmly.

Her eyes darkened. “You think I don’t hear them? What they all say?” She stepped back, taking her warmth. “I can’t risk hurting anyone, Bastian. I still have the wrath. You’re the only one who doesn’t provoke it, and only just recently, Yara and her nice girlfriend.”

I grasped her hand. “I trust you—“

“I don’t trust myself!” She snapped. Then her voice lowered. “I’m broken, and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m no good to anyone like this.”

I turned her more forcefully by the shoulders.

“Do not speak untruths about yourself. I said I trust you, and it’s not just because I love you. It’s because you’ve proven you deserve that trust.”

Her eyes watered.

“Look at Alpha Mordane. He had to be imprisoned to contain his feral mind. Nikolai swallowed his pride to beg me for beatings, just so he could control the wrath. But you…” I lifted her chin with a finger. “You outdo them. Every time it weighs on you, you remind yourself who you are, and who you love.”

“Bastian…”

“You love this pack, don't you?”

“You know I do.”

“Then I know you would never hurt a single soul within it.”

She swallowed, fear seeping through the cracks. “But I’m not ready.”

“That’s just a trap we sell ourselves. You’ll never be ready if you don’t attempt it. You’re a queen, and an alpha.”

She sprang away. “W-what?”

I inhaled deeply. “I’ve given it much thought. It’s your birthright, Maeve. I would never dream of robbing you of it.”

She raked her hair, pacing. “You wouldn’t be robbing me of anything. I don’t want it!”

“That’s your fear speaking.” I walked up to her. “Look me in the eye, and tell me you don’t want to grasp your victory.”

“My victory? You fought right beside me. You were always meant to be the next alpha.”

“Not when I can be something better, my love.” With every word, my heart recognized this path: “the man who supports you through, with his last breath.”

“You can’t.”

“I already have. Now all you need to do is address your pack, and stop bloody hiding behind your own power.”

Her eyes widened.

“Yes. You’re not cursed. You’re a crimson Lycan hybrid with a constitution so strong, you tear through obstacles to reach your goal. So what if you enjoy the chaos in the process? You’ve always come back. That’s what matters.”

She tilted her head, sold.

“I can’t believe it. I came here wanting a roof over my head where rogues like me couldn’t bully me.”

“And you reclaimed your legacies.”

“I’m a queen. And an alpha?”

“A wrathful one.” I teased.

She laughed, swatting my chest. “Stop.”

“Not until I’m cold in the ground,” I murmured, nuzzling her fair throat.

Her scent flooded my senses.

Wild rain on stone, lush with the heady, intoxicating sweetness of jasmine.

Sweet enough to eat.

My tongue ghosted a path from her pulse to her jaw, a low groan escaping me.

She froze.

I paused, stepping back from her.

“I’m sorry. I lost myself—“

My words faltered when I beheld her expression.

Perhaps I should’ve taken her warnings about the wrath seriously.

Because my mate’s eyes blazed crimson with hunger. Her lips parted, fangs visibly throbbing.

Then I scented something else—

Wild, feral desire.