Chapter Seventy-five

Chapter Seventy-five
Chapter 75
Lia’s POV

The whispers had grown too loud to ignore.

Every hallway, every gathering, every market square, my name slithered through my lips like a curse. The fragile mate. The pale outsider. The girl carrying a secret she thought could be hidden.

I had tried patience. I had tried silence. But silence, I learned, was never a shield. It was a blade others wielded against you until you bled.

And tonight, I was done bleeding.

The council chamber brimmed with tension, the long table crowded with elders and advisors, each voice rising and colliding like waves in a storm. Their words twisted, accusing, veiled with civility yet dripping with venom.

“She keeps herself apart,” Rowen muttered darkly.
“We cannot ignore the signs,” Mara added, her gaze flicking to me like a predator scenting prey.
“And what if she weakens the Alpha further?” Kael’s voice was cold. “Can we gamble the pack’s future on her womb?”

I stood at the entrance, the heavy wooden doors slamming behind me with a sound that cut through their arguments like thunder. Heads whipped toward me. Gasps echoed. They had not expected me.

Good. Let them see me. Let them choke on the sight of the girl they thought too frail to walk into fire.

My steps echoed as I crossed the chamber, every gaze fixed onto me, some with curiosity, some with disdain, others with fear. My hands trembled, but not from weakness. From fury. From the storm that had gathered inside me for weeks, demanding release.

When I reached the center, I raised my chin and let my voice slice through the silence.

“You speak of me as if I am not here. As if I am a rumor you can mold into your liking. But I am not a rumor.”

The words rang sharp, defiant, filling every corner of the chamber. For a heartbeat, no one spoke.

“I am Lia Mason,” I continued, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. “Mate to your Alpha. Bonded by the goddess herself. And if you dare to question my place here, then you question her will.”

Mara’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “And what would you call it, then? These whispers of your condition? Mere imagination? The pack deserves clarity.”

Her words hung heavy. The others leaned in, hungry for confession, for blood.

I let my hand drift to my stomach, not to shield, but to claim. My voice did not tremble when I answered.

“Yes. I carry Edgar’s child.”

The chamber erupted. Gasps, shouts, mutters, chaos unleashed. But I did not flinch. I let their noise crash around me like waves against stone. And when their frenzy reached its peak, I raised my voice again, louder, fiercer, laced with the raw power of a wolf whose fury could not be caged.

“And hear me well,” I thundered. “If any among you dares to see this as weakness, if any hand rises against me or my unborn child, I will not cower. I will not hide. I will fight tooth and claw, with fire and blood, until nothing remains of those who sought to harm what is mine.”

My words seared the air, silencing them, one by one, until only the crackle of the fire dared to speak.

Their eyes widened. They had expected tears, denial, begging. Instead, they found a storm.

“I came to this pack as an outsider,” I said, softer now, but no less fierce. “I endured your doubts, your stares, your whispers. But let me tell you this: I am no fragile girl to be pushed aside. I am the mate of your Alpha, and I will protect him, protect this child, and protect this pack even if it costs me my life. You will not break me.”

Kael shifted, his stern expression faltering. Rowen looked away, guilt flickering across his features. Even Mara’s smirk faded, though her eyes burned with something sharper, resentment, maybe even fear.

I stepped closer to the table, locking eyes with each elder in turn. “So test me, if you dare. Threaten me again. Whisper against me again. And you will see just how fierce an outsider can be when she fights for her own.”

Silence fell. Heavy. Absolute.

For the first time since I had arrived in Duskwood, they looked at me, not as a stranger, not as a fragile mate, but as a force they could not dismiss.

The council dismissed early that night, the elders dispersing with uneasy glances, their certainty shaken. I stood alone in the chamber after they left, my breaths coming hard, my body trembling not with weakness but with the release of the fury I had held for too long.

I pressed my palm to my stomach, feeling nothing but warmth beneath, and whispered into the silence, “They will not touch you. Not while I breathe.”

For the first time in weeks, I felt strength surge through me, not borrowed from Edgar, not gifted by the goddess, but born from within.

The pack would whisper still. They always would. But tonight, I had set fire to their doubts. And fire, once lit, could never be unseen.

Later, when I returned to Edgar’s side, I found him sleeping, his breathing shallow but steady. I brushed his hair from his brow and sat beside him, exhaustion tugging at me, but my resolve was stronger than ever.

They thought I was fragile. They thought I was weak.

But I would show them.

For him. For our child. For the future they thought I was unworthy to hold.

Let them whisper. Let them plot.

I was done hiding.

And gods help anyone who tries to break me again.