Chapter 107 That's My Fucking Mate
Fernando didn’t wait for Garrick’s final words to settle. The moment Alberto’s body began to slump toward the scorched earth, Fernando vaulted over the dais railing and sprinted across the yard. He reached the ring just as Alberto’s shoulder grazed the ground, catching him mid-fall with one arm beneath his back, the other cradling his head.
Alberto was limp, breathing shallow, blood smeared across his lips and chin. His eyes fluttered half-open, unfocused.
“Stay with me,” Fernando muttered, voice rougher than he intended.
Before he could rise, a chorus of outraged voices erupted from the eastern tier.
“That boy cannot be crowned!” Elder Soje bellowed, rising to his full height, robes flaring. “He entered under false pretenses! He concealed his identity! By ancient law, the victor must be known and verified before the duel begins!”
Another elder, gray-bearded and trembling with indignation, added, “Eliana should be declared winner by default! This is an insult to the sanctity of the Mate Duel!”
Fernando didn’t turn. He adjusted Alberto in his arms, then slowly stood, holding the unconscious man against his chest like something sacred.
Then he turned.
His voice didn’t rise. It dropped low, lethal, vibrating with restrained fury.
“Say that word again,” he said, eyes locked on Elder Soje. “Say ‘default’ again. Or ‘false.’ Or ‘conceal.’ Say it once more, and I will throw every tradition you cling to into the fire myself. And your heads? They’ll roll down these steps before moonrise.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Soje paled but held his ground. “What’s so special about him?” he demanded, voice shaking only slightly. “A kitchen servant? A shadow? You would risk alliance, honor, and legacy for him?”
Fernando didn’t answer with words.
He motioned sharply to Darius.
Darius stepped forward instantly, arms outstretched. Fernando transferred Alberto carefully into his hold gently, deliberately then turned.
In less than a heartbeat, he crossed the ten meters between himself and Elder Soje.
The old man barely had time to widen his eyes before Fernando’s hand shot out, gripping his throat with enough force to lift him off the ground.
“That,” Fernando growled, voice raw with feral rage, “is my fucking mate, you hate-dumbass relic.”
And with a single, brutal shove, he threw Soje across the yard.
The elder crashed into a stone pillar, crumpling to the ground with a cry, clutching his ribs.
Fernando turned to face the rest of the council, eyes blazing gold at the edges his wolf riding close to the surface.
“If one strand of his hair,” he said, voice cutting through the stunned silence like a blade, “is disrespected knowingly or unknowingly the punishment is cruel death. Not exile. Not banishment. Death. Slow. Painful. Final.”
Mira and Samael rushed into the ring then, pushing past stunned guards.
Fernando whirled on them, snarling. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”
Before either could speak, Alberto coughed a wet, ragged sound and fresh blood spilled from his mouth.
Mira dropped to her knees beside Darius, fingers flying to Alberto’s pulse point. Her face tightened. “Something’s wrong,” she said, voice low and urgent. “This isn’t just exhaustion. I sense… poison. Something fast-acting. Meant to kill.”
Fernando didn’t hesitate.
He yanked Alberto back into his arms, spun on his heel, and strode toward the east wing at a near run. “To my chamber. Now.”
Samael and Mira followed without question. Darius fell in behind them, hand on his sword hilt, eyes scanning for threats.
Inside Fernando’s private chamber, Mira laid Alberto on the bed, tearing open his tunic to examine his torso. She pressed her palms flat against his chest, closing her eyes, channeling her healing sense.
After a long moment, she exhaled sharply. “It's a nightshade-laced hemlock. Mixed with silver dust. Designed to paralyze the heart within minutes. But…” She frowned. “It’s weaker than it should be.”
“Why?” Fernando demanded, pacing like a caged beast.
“Because his wolf emerged during the duel,” Mira said, turning to him. “The transformation burned through most of the toxin. If he hadn’t shifted when he did, he’d be dead already.”
Fernando stopped pacing. His hands curled into fists. “Eliana.”
Mira nodded grimly. “She must have slipped it into him before the match. Maybe through skin contact. Or breath mist. It’s odorless, tasteless.”
Darius, standing by the door, frowned. “How do you know it was her? Anyone could’ve—”
“It was her,” Fernando cut in, voice cold. “She used it during the mind duel. That’s how she gained control so fast. She didn’t just attack his mind she poisoned his body at the same time. Made him weak. Made him vulnerable.”
He turned to Darius, eyes burning. “Her mother wasn’t a full wolf. She was half-blood descended from the Ashen Veil clan. They specialize in neurotoxins that mimic mental fatigue. Perfect for mind duels. Undetectable unless you know what to look for.”
Darius went still. “You knew?”
“I practically grew up with her,” Fernando said, jaw tight. “But I didn’t think she’d be reckless enough to use it here. In front of everyone.”
Mira stood, wiping her hands on her robe. “She didn’t care. She thought she’d win. Thought she’d bury him before anyone noticed.”
Fernando walked to the bed, staring down at Alberto’s pale face. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m going to kill her.”
“No,” Mira said sharply. “Not yet.”
Fernando turned on her. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.”
“If you kill her now,” Mira countered, “the Southern Ember Pack declares war. The council uses it as proof you’re unstable. And Alberto your mate wakes up to a kingdom in chaos. Is that what you want?”
Fernando didn’t answer. He just stared at Alberto, his expression shifting from rage to something far more dangerous: grief.
Samael stepped forward quietly. “We’ll handle it,” he said. “Not with blades. With truth. Let the council see what she did. Let them smell the poison on her hands.”
Fernando exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face. Then he nodded once. “Fine. But if she so much as looks at him again…”
“You won’t need to lift a finger,” Samael said. “I’ll make sure she regrets ever stepping foot in this territory.”
Outside, the distant sound of shouting echoed Eliana’s supporters demanding justice, elders calling for inquiry, guards struggling to maintain order.
But inside the chamber, there was only silence.
And the slow, steady rise and fall of Alberto’s chest.
Fernando sat on the edge of the bed, taking Alberto’s hand in his. His thumb brushed over the knuckles, gentle, almost reverent.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “All this time… and I didn’t know.”
Mira exchanged a glance with Samael. Neither sp
oke.
Fernando leaned closer, forehead nearly touching Alberto’s.
“Rest,” he murmured. “I’ve got you now.”