Chapter 88 Rage - Amelia’s POV
I felt Aleksandr vibrating with rage beside me, his control hanging by a thread. But this was my fight, my moment.
"I wasn't wolfless," I said quietly. "Kaela was always there. I just couldn't shift. And instead of helping me, instead of trying to understand why, you threw me away. You let them hurt me. You hurt me."
Marcus's eyes narrowed. "We did what was necessary. A pack is only as strong as its weakest member."
"And what about a kingdom?" I asked, holding his gaze steadily. "Is it only as strong as its cruelest alpha? Because that's what you became, Marcus. Cruel. Small. Afraid."
His hands gripped the bars, knuckles whitening. "You don't understand what it takes to…"
"I understand more than you think," I interrupted, surprising both of us. "I've seen what real leadership looks like. It's not fear. It's not cruelty disguised as strength. It's protection. It's justice."
"Justice?" He spat the word like poison. "Is that what you call this? Locking up your elders based on lies?"
He fell silent for a moment, something calculating entering his expression. When he spoke again, his voice had softened, taking on the tone I remembered from childhood, the voice he'd used when I'd come to him with skinned knees or nightmares.
"Amelia," he said, almost gently, "I made mistakes with you. I admit that. We all did. But we were trying to protect the pack. You were different, vulnerable. We thought—"
"Stop," I cut him off, a bitter laugh escaping me. "Don't. Don't try to rewrite history now. Don't pretend you were protecting me when you locked me in a basement for four years. When you let Dominic use me as his personal punching bag. When you—" My voice broke, but I pushed through. "When you pressed that silver knife into my back and told me worthless things don't feel pain."
Beside me, Aleksandr went deadly still, his fury a palpable force. I hadn't told him that specific detail before. I hadn't told anyone.
Marcus's face drained of colour. "That was, I was angry. You had broken pack rules, you needed discipline—"
"I was sixteen," I said, each word precise and clear. "I was a child who needed help, not torture. Not abandonment."
"You weren't my blood," he said finally, his voice hardening again. "You were a foundling, a charity case. When it became clear you'd never be a proper wolf, never contribute to the pack—"
"I did everything you asked," I cut in, memories of endless chores, of scrubbing floors until my hands bled, of cooking meals I wasn't allowed to eat. "I worked harder than anyone. But it was never enough, was it? Because the problem wasn't what I did or didn't do. It was what I was."
Marcus fell silent again, his eyes darting past me to Aleksandr, perhaps looking for an ally in alpha authority. He found none.
"You failed her," Aleksandr said, his deep voice vibrating with barely contained rage. "You failed as an alpha. As a father. As a man."
Marcus flinched at the condemnation, but his expression quickly hardened into defiance. "And I suppose you're the model of perfect leadership? The king whose curse will destroy this kingdom? Does she know how many wives you've gone through, Alpha King? Does she know what happened to them?"
I felt Aleksandr tense beside me, but I spoke before he could respond. "I know everything," I said firmly. "Every rumour, every truth. And I'm still here. I chose him, just as he chose me."
'And we chose Skoll,' Kaela added fiercely. 'And Skoll chose us.'
For the first time, genuine uncertainty flickered across Marcus's face. He hadn't expected this united front, this unshakable bond between us. He had assumed, as he always did, that I was weak, manipulatable. That I could be turned against my mate with the right words.
"I shifted, you know," I continued, a small, cold smile playing at my lips. "Kaela. My wolf that you swore didn't exist. She's one of the largest wolves anyone's ever seen. Carried Blackthorn all the way to the castle ball like he weighed nothing."
Marcus's eyes widened slightly, genuine shock registering on his face. "You... shifted? But how—"
"Because I was never broken," I said simply. "Just waiting for someone who saw me. All of me."
Something shifted in his expression, a crack in the armour of justification he'd built around himself. For just a moment, I glimpsed regret in his eyes. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the cold calculation I knew so well.
"Pretty words," he said dismissively. "But if you've shifted, where is this magnificent wolf now? Why come to me in human form?"
The question struck a nerve, reopening the wound of my recent failures. But I refused to let him see how it affected me. "That's none of your concern," I replied evenly. "I didn't come for your approval, Marcus. I came to say goodbye."
His brow furrowed. "Goodbye?"
"Yes," I said, stepping back from the bars. "To the past. To the fear. To you. I don't need answers from you anymore, because they don't matter. You don't matter, not to my future, not to who I am now."
I turned away from the cell, Aleksandr's hand immediately finding the small of my back again. But I paused, looking over my shoulder at the man who had shaped so much of my pain. "Goodbye, Marcus," I said softly. "I hope you find peace in whatever sentence awaits you."
His face contorted with sudden fury, the mask of control finally slipping. "You think this makes you strong?" he snarled, lunging against the bars. "You're still that frightened little girl, hiding behind a stronger wolf. You'll never be a real queen. You'll never…”
But I was already walking away, my steps measured and calm. Aleksandr matched my pace, his massive presence a wall between me and Marcus's shouted insults that grew fainter as we moved down the corridor.
When we reached the heavy door that would lead us back to the upper levels, I finally let out the breath I'd been holding, my shoulders slumping slightly. Aleksandr's arm wrapped around me, drawing me against his chest in a protective embrace.
"You did well," he murmured against my hair. "I'm proud of you."
I closed my eyes, letting his warmth seep into me, chasing away the chill that confronting Marcus had left in my bones. "Did it help?" he asked after a moment. "Did you get what you needed?"
I considered the question carefully, taking stock of my feelings. The anger was still there, the hurt still real. But something had shifted, a weight lifted, if only slightly. "Yes," I said finally. "It wasn't about getting answers. Not really. It was about standing before him as myself. Not as his victim or his disappointment, but as who I really am."
'The Alpha Queen,' Kaela supplied, her mental voice steadier than it had been in days. 'With or without shifting.'
Aleksandr pressed a kiss to the top of my head, then stepped back just enough to tilt my chin up with gentle fingers. "My Queen," he agreed, those simple words carrying a world of meaning. Then he offered me his arm, every inch the Alpha King despite the rage I knew still simmered beneath his controlled exterior. "Shall we?"
I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, and together we left the darkness of the cells behind, ascending toward the light above. I couldn't shift, not yet. The barrier between Kaela and me remained solid and unyielding. But for the first time in three days, I felt something like hope stir within me. Not because of anything Marcus had said or done, but because I'd faced him without breaking. Because I'd walked away on my terms.