Chapter 19 Sunlight - Amelia’s POV
I woke to sunlight warming my face—not the dim, filtered light of a basement window well, but actual, direct sunlight. For a moment, I lay still, savoring the sensation of soft sheets against my skin and the absence of dampness in the air. It took my brain a few seconds to remember where I was—the eastern tower of the Royal Castle, in a suite bigger than the entire servants' quarters at Frozen Mountain. In a bed that didn't smell of mold. With a window that actually opened.
'You're staring at the ceiling like it might disappear,' Kaela observed, her mental voice morning-rough but alert.
"Just making sure it's real," I whispered, stretching carefully to avoid aggravating my back. The silver salve had worked wonders overnight, transforming the burning pain into a more manageable ache.
I pushed myself up and padded to the window, pulling back the curtains to reveal the sprawling grounds below. Gardens stretched toward distant walls, meticulously maintained paths winding between flower beds bursting with color. People moved about—staff in uniforms, guards at their posts, a groundskeeper pruning roses. A normal morning in a place that felt anything but normal to me.
The clock on the bedside table read 7:45. I'd slept longer than I had in years, uninterrupted by cold or pain or someone banging on my door demanding service.
'Don't get used to it,' Kaela warned, though her tone lacked its usual edge. 'This is still a cage, just a prettier one.'
I was about to respond when three sharp knocks sounded at my door. My heart leapt into my throat—had I missed something? Was I supposed to be somewhere? Old fears of punishment for tardiness flooded back.
"Come in," I called, hastily smoothing down my sleep shirt.
Mira's familiar face appeared as the door swung open, her smile bright as she balanced a tray with what smelled like fresh coffee. "Good morning! Hope you slept well."
"I did, thank you." I glanced at the tray, surprised she'd brought coffee to my room.
"His Majesty has asked if you would join him for breakfast," she announced, setting the tray down on a side table. "In about fifteen minutes, if that works for you?"
My stomach dropped. Breakfast. With the Alpha King. After our strange moment of connection in the garden last night.
'Trap,' Kaela hissed immediately. 'Be careful.'
"I... of course," I stammered, unable to imagine refusing such a request even if I'd wanted to.
Mira must have noticed my face pale, because her expression softened. "It'll be in the east garden—nothing formal. He's already there with his coffee, looking over reports."
That somehow made it worse—the thought of him waiting, already settled and in control of the space where I'd be joining him. I nodded weakly.
"I'll help you find something to wear," Mira offered, moving toward the closet where we'd stored my new clothes the night before.
"Thank you," I managed, grateful for the guidance. What did one wear to breakfast with the man whose bride you were supposed to become? The man who might or might not be responsible for the deaths of his previous wives?
'Something you can run in,' Kaela suggested dryly.
Mira pulled out a light blue dress with a simple cut and cap sleeves. "This would be perfect—casual but pretty. And maybe these?" She held up a pair of flat shoes in a neutral cream color.
I nodded again, taking the items with hands that trembled slightly. "I'll just... get ready."
"Take your time," Mira said, though we both knew fifteen minutes wasn't much time at all. "I'll wait in the sitting room to show you the way."
In the bathroom, I moved with the efficiency born of years serving others on tight schedules. Quick shower, careful application of salve to my back, dress on, hair combed into some semblance of order. The dress fit better than I expected, skimming over my too-thin frame rather than emphasizing it. My reflection still startled me—the girl in the mirror looked like someone else, someone who belonged in nice clothes and sunlit rooms.
'Remember who you are,' Kaela said, gentler than usual. 'You're a survivour. Whatever he wants, we'll handle it together.'
I stepped back into the bedroom, slipped on the shoes, and took a deep breath. "Ready as I'll ever be."
Mira led me through the castle with her usual cheerful efficiency, pointing out features I'd missed the day before—a tapestry depicting the founding of the Luna Kingdom, a glass case displaying ancient ceremonial daggers, a small alcove with a window seat that she promised had the best view of sunsets in the entire castle.
"His Majesty has breakfast in the garden whenever the weather permits," she explained as we descended a different staircase than yesterday. "Says it clears his head before council meetings."
I tried to absorb this information, this tiny glimpse into the routine of the man I was supposedly going to marry. A man who liked outdoor breakfasts and sent wine to match my dinner and had his healer tend my wounds.
'A man who terrifies everyone around him,' Kaela reminded me. 'Don't forget that part.'
The garden Mira led me to was different from the staff one I'd visited the night before—larger, more formal, with geometric flower beds and perfectly pruned hedges. At its center stood a pavilion with an open design, white columns supporting a roof that provided shade without blocking the view.
And there he was.
The Alpha King sat at a small table beneath the pavilion, a stack of papers to his right, a coffee cup in his hand. He wore dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing muscled forearms covered in intricate tattoos. In the morning light, he looked less intimidating than he had in his office—still massive and powerful, but somehow more human.
He looked up as we approached, those dark eyes finding mine immediately. Setting down his coffee, he rose to his feet in one fluid motion.
"Good morning, Amelia," he said, his deep voice carrying easily across the distance between us.
"Your Highness," I replied, the title automatic as I approached the pavilion.
Mira discreetly melted away as Aleksandr moved to pull out a chair for me—a gesture so unexpected I nearly stopped walking. At the Frozen Mountain, no one would have dreamed of such courtesy for a servant, let alone one believed to be wolfless.
I sat carefully, mumbling a thank you as he pushed my chair in and returned to his own seat.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, those intense eyes studying my face.
"Better than I have in years, Your Highness," I answered honestly, folding my hands in my lap to hide their trembling.
Something that might have been satisfaction flickered across his face. "We're to be married, Amelia. You're one of the few people who can use my name."
I blinked at him, caught off guard by the directness. "Okay... Aleksandr." His name felt strange on my tongue, forbidden somehow.
'That's because it is forbidden,' Kaela muttered. 'For everyone but his equals. Which we definitely are not.'
Mira reappeared with another server, both carrying trays laden with food. They set out a feast before us—pastries still warm from the oven, fruits sliced into precise arrangements, several kinds of cheese, thinly sliced meats, and fresh coffee in a silver pot.
"Thank you, Mira," Aleksandr said, his tone warmer than I expected.
She smiled—an actual, genuine smile—and nodded before withdrawing with the other server.
When we were alone again, Aleksandr gestured to the spread. "Please, help yourself."
I reached for a small pastry, hyperaware of his gaze on me. The silence stretched between us as I took a careful bite, the flaky dough melting on my tongue.
"I need to know what happened to you at Frozen Mountain," he said finally, his voice low and controlled.
The pastry turned to ash in my mouth.