Chapter Seventy-six
Chapter Seventy-six
Chapter 76
Edgar’s POV
The first light of morning seeped through the thin curtains, pale gold spilling across the chamber. I blinked awake slowly, my body heavy as though lead weighed down my bones. The world felt different this morning, quieter, charged, like the air before a storm.
For a long moment, I lay still, listening. The murmur of voices drifted faintly through the stone walls. Servants moved softly in the corridors, their footsteps hushed, their tones careful. Not the usual bustle. Not the careless chatter of a household beginning the day. No, this quiet was deliberate. Watchful.
I shifted slightly, wincing at the ache in my ribs. My body hadn’t recovered, weakness still clung to me, stubborn and unyielding. But my mind was sharper this morning, no longer clouded by fever or fitful dreams. And in that clarity, I recognized something was different.
The atmosphere in the stronghold had changed.
The door opened with a creak, and a tray was carried in. A young servant girl lowered her gaze quickly, her cheeks flushed as she set the food by my bedside. She muttered a greeting too quiet to catch, then hurried out before I could speak.
Strange. They usually lingered, offering help, or at least stealing curious glances at their Alpha laid low. But now, avoidance. Caution. Respect?
I frowned, unease gnawing at me.
“Awake?”
Her voice pulled my gaze to the far side of the room. Lia stood in the corner, arms folded across her chest. She must have been there for some time, watching, waiting. The sight of her chased the cold from me.
“Lia,” I rasped, my throat still raw from sleep. “Why are they why does everything feel different?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she crossed the room and perched lightly on the edge of the bed, her hand finding mine. Her touch was warm, grounding, but her eyes carried a weight I hadn’t seen before.
“They know,” she said finally.
My heart stuttered. “Know what?”
Her lips parted, and though her voice was calm, it was steady with conviction. “About the child. About us. I told them yesterday.”
The words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, the entire world narrowed to her face, her hand, her steady gaze.
I tried to sit straighter, ignoring the pain that flared through me. “You, you told them?”
She nodded once, firm, unflinching.
A flood of thoughts crashed through me, the council, the pack, the enemies waiting for cracks in my armor. We had guarded this secret so fiercely, keeping it close, hidden. And now it was out, laid bare.
I stared at her, searching her face, and found no regret there. Only resolve.
“Why, Lia?” My voice was hoarse, almost breaking. “Why would you risk yourself like that? They’ll”
“They’ll what?” she cut in, her tone sharp as steel. “Whisper? Plot? Doubt? They were already doing that, Edgar. I saw it in their eyes, heard it in the way they spoke about me when they thought I couldn’t hear. They were circling like vultures. And I refuse to let them treat me, or our child, as something to be hidden in shame.”
Her words struck deep, each one a blade and a balm all at once.
“I stood before them,” she continued, her eyes blazing now, “and I told them the truth. I dared them to challenge me. And they didn’t. They couldn’t.”
My chest ached, not from weakness this time, but from the sheer weight of emotion. Pride, fierce and overwhelming, swelled in me. I could picture it in my mind’s eye: her standing in the council hall, fire in her voice, daring them to defy her. My mate. My equal.
“You shouldn’t have had to do that alone,” I murmured, guilt bleeding through the pride. “That was my burden.”
Her hand tightened around mine. “No. It’s ours. And I will not let you carry everything while you’re barely able to stand. We are in this together, Edgar.”
I closed my eyes briefly, swallowing hard against the knot in my throat. When I opened them again, she was still watching me, her gaze unwavering.
“They’ll fear you now,” I said softly.
“Let them.” Her chin lifted, defiant. “I don’t care about their fear. I care about our child. About you. And I will protect both with everything I have.”
For a long time, I said nothing. I just watched her, the fire in her, the strength she had claimed. She wasn’t the same girl who once stumbled into my life frightened and unsure. No, she was the woman fate had carved into steel, the mate I needed when my own strength faltered.
My throat burned as I lifted our joined hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Lia, you’ve given me something I thought I lost.”
“What’s that?” she asked, softer now.
“Hope.”
The word lingered in the morning air, fragile but unbreakable.
The rest of the morning unfolded slowly. Whispers echoed faintly through the corridors, too low to decipher, but I could feel the shift. The servants moved differently now, fewer curious stares, more bowed heads. Not just because of me, but because of her. Because Lia had stood tall before them all.
And though my body still ached, though weakness still weighed me down, I felt something else settle into me that I hadn’t felt in weeks.
Strength.
Not the strength of muscle or wolf, but the strength of knowing I was not alone.
When Lia moved to leave the chamber to see to her duties, I caught her wrist gently.
“Stay close today,” I said.
She tilted her head, eyes softening. “Afraid they’ll challenge me?”
I shook my head faintly. “No. Afraid I’ll miss you.”
A rare smile curved her lips, and she bent to press a kiss to my forehead before slipping away.
When the door shut behind her, I leaned back into the pillows, exhaustion pulling at me again. But this time, I let it. Because for the first time in too long, I wasn’t afraid of closing my eyes.
Because now, the pack knew.
And they would never see her as weak again.