Chapter 101 Hush - Aleksandr’s POV
I felt Amelia’s pulse quicken through our mating bond as we approached the council chambers, her small hand nestled in mine like a bird seeking shelter. Each beat of her heart echoed through me, a testament to how completely our lives had interwoven overnight. Skoll rumbled contentedly in my mind, his presence stronger and more stable than it had been in months, the curse that had threatened to tear us apart now held at bay by something far more ancient and powerful. But even with this newfound strength flowing between us, I couldn’t blame Amelia for her apprehension. The council had made their feelings about her abundantly clear, and what awaited us beyond those carved mahogany doors would be less a celebration than a battlefield.
“Remember,” I murmured, pausing before we reached the entrance, “they advise. They do not rule.”
Amelia nodded, her mismatched eyes meeting mine with that quiet courage that had first drawn me to her. The mating mark on her neck stood out against her pale skin, a silvery crescent that matched the one she’d left on me. Let them see it, I thought savagely. Let them understand that some decisions were beyond their reach.
‘Ready to fight,’ Skoll growled in approval, his hackles rising metaphorically at the thought of anyone challenging our mate.
The guards flanking the entrance pulled the heavy doors open with practiced precision, revealing the circular chamber beyond. Morning light streamed through tall windows, catching the dust motes that danced in the still air. The councilors were already seated around the massive obsidian table – Blackstone with his calculating gaze, Lady Redwood with her spine rigid as iron, Juniper with her traditional bone beads clicking softly as she leaned to whisper something to her neighbor. Nora sat apart from the others, her ancient eyes finding ours immediately, a slight nod conveying her support.
Two empty chairs awaited us at the head of the table – mine carved from black granite, and beside it, a newer seat meant for Amelia. I guided her forward, my hand at the small of her back, feeling the slight tremble she fought to control. Pride surged through me at her composure. She’d come so far from the frightened girl I’d first encountered.
As we took our seats, a hush fell over the chamber. I kept my expression deliberately neutral, though I longed to bare my teeth at the poorly concealed disdain in some of their gazes.
Nora rose to her feet, her age-worn hands resting lightly on the table’s surface. “Fellow councilors,” she began, her voice carrying the weight of centuries, “I have called this session to formally announce that Alpha King Aleksandr Brecc and his mate, Amelia Lovelace, have completed their mating bond.”
Murmurs rippled around the table, quickly silenced by Nora’s sharp glance.
“Furthermore,” she continued, “we have reason to believe both curses – the centennial curse affecting our King and the shifting curse affecting our Queen – have been broken by the strength of their bond.”
More murmurs, these tinged with something like reluctant surprise. Lady Redwood’s eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline, while Blackstone’s mouth pressed into a thin line of disapproval.
“As is our tradition,” Nora said, straightening to her full height, “let us acknowledge our rulers.” She raised her hands, palms upward in the ancient gesture of fealty. “Long live the Alpha King and Queen!”
“Long live the Alpha King,” came the dutiful response, but only Nora’s voice continued to include “and Queen.” The omission hung in the air like a slap.
I felt Amelia’s hand tense in mine beneath the table but kept my gaze steady, daring any of them to meet my eyes directly. None did.
“The mating is complete, then?” Blackstone finally asked, his tone carefully neutral though his scent betrayed his displeasure. “Without council approval or oversight?”
“I wasn’t aware I needed permission to mark my mate,” I replied coldly, letting just enough threat colour my tone to remind them who sat at the head of the table. “Particularly when that mating appears to have broken curses that have plagued both our bloodlines.”
“Tradition dictates—“ Lady Redwood began, her voice as crisp as her perfectly arranged white hair.
“Tradition dictated many things that weren’t in the kingdom’s best interest,” I cut her off. “Including the council’s habit of trying to select appropriate mates for the Alpha King rather than respecting the true mating bond.”
Juniper leaned forward, bone beads clicking like tiny teeth. “My King, surely you understand our concern. The girl is—“
“The Queen,” I corrected, the words dropping into the chamber like stones. “And you will address her as such.”
“She has no lineage,” Juniper pressed, either brave or foolish enough to continue. “No political connections, no formal training. She was a servant mere weeks ago.”
“And yet she shifted into one of the largest wolves anyone has witnessed,” Nora interjected smoothly. “Carried a full-grown man across the castle grounds without effort. Broke through a shifting curse that had contained her wolf for two decades.”
I felt a surge of gratitude toward the elder werewolf. While I’d expected her support, having her voice it so directly in the council chamber was a powerful statement.
“Would you have approved her as my mate had I asked?” I challenged, already knowing the answer. “Would any of you have supported my choice?”
The silence was answer enough.
“We would have suggested alternatives,” Blackstone finally admitted, unable to meet my gaze directly. “Daughters from established families, wolves with proven bloodlines and political value.”
I felt Amelia’s pain through our bond, sharp as a blade despite her outward composure. The suggestion that she was somehow less than worthy cut deep, reopening wounds that had barely begun to heal.
“Which is precisely why I didn’t ask,” I replied, letting the temperature of my voice drop dangerously. “The Alpha King chooses his Queen. Not the council.”
“We merely advise—“ Lady Redwood began.
“Then consider your advice noted and dismissed,” I interrupted, rising to my feet. Amelia stood with me, her chin high despite the hurt I could feel radiating from her. “This council session is concluded. Elder Nora will inform you of the coronation details once they’re finalised.”
Without waiting for their response, I guided Amelia toward the door, maintaining a deliberately unhurried pace despite my desire to remove her from their presence immediately. Only once we were in the corridor, doors firmly closed behind us, did I allow my mask of indifference to slip.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, drawing her into an alcove where we could have a moment of privacy. “They’re relics of an older time, clinging to power they’ve never truly had.”
“It’s alright,” she whispered, though I could feel through our bond that it wasn’t. Their words had wounded her more than she wanted to admit.
I took her hand again, leading her through the corridors toward my office where we could speak freely. With each step, I felt her withdrawing into herself, doubt creeping into the spaces where confidence had begun to grow.
When we reached my office, I closed and locked the door behind us, then moved to my chair behind the massive oak desk. Instead of directing her to the seat opposite, I guided her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her slender waist.
“Talk to me,” I said, pressing my lips to her temple. “I can feel your hurt.”
She leaned into me, her body molding against mine as if we’d been designed as complementary pieces of the same puzzle. “Do they all think that? That I’m not worthy? That I’m just some... some servant girl you decided to keep?”
“They fear what they don’t understand,” I explained, my fingers tracing gentle patterns along her spine. “And they definitely don’t understand us. What we have, what we are to each other.”
“Are they right, though?” Her voice was small, painfully vulnerable. “About me not knowing how to be a queen?”
“No,” I said firmly, tilting her chin up so she had to meet my gaze. “Being Queen isn’t about bloodlines or political connections. It’s about leading, protecting, seeing what needs to be changed and having the courage to change it. You’ve shown more of those qualities in the short time I’ve known you than most of that council has demonstrated in centuries.”
She nodded slowly, some of the doubt receding from her eyes. “What exactly is their role?” she asked. “The council, I mean.”
“Advisory, primarily,” I explained. “They represent different interests within the kingdom, provide input on policy decisions, maintain continuity between generations.”
“How are they chosen?” She sat straighter now, curiosity replacing hurt. “You never really explained that.”
“The roles are typically inherited,” I admitted. “Passed down through certain families, with occasional appointments to fill vacancies.”
She raised an eyebrow, something sharp and intelligent flickering in her gaze. “Can that be changed?” she asked, her voice small but steady.
I cupped her face in my hands, struck once again by how perfectly she fit against me. “We’re the King and Queen,” I said, watching understanding dawn in her remarkable eyes. “We can change whatever we want.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “So we could set up an elected council instead?”
I kissed her forehead, warmth spreading through me at her use of “we” – already thinking like a true Queen. “Yes, we absolutely could.”
“It would take time,” I added. “Change always does. But yes, we could create a system where packs elect their representatives, where voices beyond the traditional families are heard.”
She nodded, something like determination replacing the hurt in her expression. “After the coronation?” she asked, and I could already see her mind working, planning, adapting.
“We’ll coronate you, my Queen,” I promised, kissing her softly. “We’ll get married in front of the entire kingdom, and then...” I smiled against her lips, “...then we’ll make the world a better place.”