Chapter 60 61
The USB was plugged into the projector at the chamber’s side. A screen flickered to life.
And there I was.
Naked. On the bed. Gregor above me. Our bodies entwined, moving with that wildness that had consumed us both.
My heart stopped. It looked weird. My face in the video looked different. And I swear, it was the best sex in my life, not like I have some experience to compare to but…my face in the video wasn't um, shall I call it, delighted?
The council gasped, voices rising, the chamber a hive of shock and scandal.
I wanted to crawl out of my own skin.
But then the audio hit. The volume was up for added drama.
Not my moans. Not my breathless begging for more.
No.
The sound that filled the chamber was my voice—screaming.
“Stop! Please—stop! You’re hurting me!”
My blood turned to ice.
My knees buckled, and only Sugar’s gasp behind me snapped me upright.
Because what played on the screen wasn’t just sex. It was rape.
Edited. Twisted. A grotesque violation of everything Gregor and I shared.
The chamber roared with outrage.
“How dare he—!”
“A crime against the crown!”
“Savage beast!”
The Queen sat, calm as a snake, her smirk spreading wider. The King’s face was pale, his mouth open in shock.
Gregor—
Gregor screamed.
The chains rattled as his body surged forward. His eyes burned molten gold, his teeth lengthening, claws bursting from his fingers.
“No!” His voice cracked, raw with fury. “That’s a lie! I would never—NEVER—hurt her!”
And then his wolf ripped free.
The chamber shook with the force of his shift. His wolf—massive, black as midnight, eyes glowing fire—snapped the chains as though they were paper. He roared, the sound echoing like thunder, shaking the rafters.
Panic erupted. Lords and courtiers scrambled back, guards surged forward, weapons drawn.
But my gaze was locked on him.
The video stopped.
But the damage had been done.
On Gregor.
On my mate, forced into chains, humiliated, slandered, framed for a crime that made my soul recoil.
I should’ve been cowering. I should’ve been horrified.
But all I felt was fire.
Because if the Queen thought this would destroy him, she didn’t understand. She’d only made him more dangerous.
And me?
Well, Margaux might’ve wilted. But I wasn’t Margaux.
So I lifted my chin, locked eyes with the Queen, and smirked right back.
“That never happened,” I whispered, just loud enough for the closest lords to hear.
And judging by the flicker in her gaze, maybe—for the first time—she believed it.
It happened too fast for my brain to catch up.
One moment, I was whispering under my breath—my truth, my defense, the only thing that mattered.
“Gregor didn’t force me,” I muttered, my throat raw, ready to scream it louder. Ready to tell them all that what they saw was not real, that he wasn’t a monster but my mate. That I wasn’t Margaux, their precious, spoiled future princess, but Marigold, the wolf they’d tried to erase.
The words were on my tongue.
I was ready to tear down their lies.
And then I heard it.
Her.
The voice I loathed, the one that made my wolf bristle and whimper all at once.
The Queen’s voice.
Not aloud. Not across the chamber. No—inside my head, sliding in like oil through cracks.
“Girl, stop.”
My blood froze.
“Open your mouth again, and I will make sure Gregor hangs before sunset. Do not reveal yourself. Do not speak at all.”
It wasn’t a threat.
It wasn’t even a warning.
It was a declaration. A truth spoken with the venom of someone who always, always, got what she wanted.
I stood there, numb, the words shriveling on my tongue. My throat closed, my body locked in place.
And around me—chaos.
Gregor snapped his chains like they were threads, his wolf bursting free in a blur of black fur and molten eyes. His roar shook the council chamber, a sound so deep it rattled the stained glass windows. Half the lords screamed. The others shifted on instinct, wolves bursting free in flashes of fur and teeth.
The guards surged forward with silver-bladed spears, guns loaded with wolfsbane bullets raised.
Gregor met them head-on.
Blood sprayed the marble floor as he ripped through the first line of guards, claws slicing like swords, his jaws crushing through armor. Men screamed, their howls choking on their own blood.
The council chamber became a battlefield in seconds.
Lords toppled chairs, scrambling to get behind the King’s dais. Some shifted, others cowered. The King himself rose to his feet, his face thunderous, shouting for order. His wolf glimmered in his eyes, ready to break free.
And the Queen—
Oh, she didn’t flinch. She didn’t move.
She smiled.
She stood in the chaos like it had all been scripted for her, like Gregor’s fury was the final act of her play.
“See?” she hissed, loud enough for the nearest lords to hear, her voice sharp and cutting. “See how savage he is? He cannot control himself. Even here, in front of the King—he betrays us with his violence!”
Her words slithered into the ears of everyone around her, poisoning them faster than wolfsbane.
Gregor tore through another guard, his body heaving, blood soaking his fur. His golden eyes scanned the chamber, landing on me.
And for one heartbeat—
One heartbeat in the madness—
The chaos blurred.
It was just us. Him and me.
His mate.
My mate.
His wolf howled through our bond, desperate, furious, protective. Mine, it screamed. She’s mine!
I almost shifted. Goddess, I wanted to. I wanted to tear through every liar in that chamber, rip their smug faces off, protect him with everything I had.
But the Queen’s voice held me like a leash.
“Do it, and he dies.”
I trembled. My claws pressed against my palms, aching to break through.
Sugar’s scream jolted me. She was beside me, her wide eyes darting through the chaos.
“Where’s Leon?!” she shrieked. “Where the hell is Prince Leon?!”
But I knew. I knew last night when he hadn’t returned to the suite. The Queen had sent him away. Southern Pack, she’d said. Handling politics, she’d said.
No.
It was planned. All of it.
Gregor’s arrest. The USB. This ambush.
Every step had been orchestrated. And the Queen had made sure Leon, the only one with enough power to interfere, was far, far away.
Gregor’s roar shook me back. He ripped a spear in half with his jaws, his body glistening with blood—his, theirs, I couldn’t tell anymore. A guard lunged, sinking a silver blade into his side. Gregor howled, spun, and tore the man’s throat out.
The King shouted, “Enough!” His voice cracked like thunder, his own wolf surging beneath his skin. He leapt forward, claws extended, colliding with Gregor in a clash of titans.
The ground cracked under their force.
Two alphas, two beasts, locked in a deadly grapple. The King trying to subdue, Gregor trying to survive.
The chamber erupted with howls, screams, steel clashing against claws.
And then—
The air shifted.