Chapter 89 Patience is a Virtue - Aleksandr’s POV
The morning light cast dappled shadows across the breakfast table as I watched Amelia spread honey on her toast, her movements more deliberate than they had been in days. Something had shifted in her since confronting Marcus yesterday, a straightening of her shoulders, a steadiness in her gaze that hadn't been there before. Pride swelled in my chest even as Skoll rumbled his approval in our shared mind. Our mate had faced down her tormentor and walked away stronger. But the shadow of her inability to shift still hung over us, an unspoken weight that neither of us knew how to lift.
'She sleeps better,' Skoll observed, his mental voice tinged with satisfaction. 'Less fear scent. Good.'
He was right. Though I'd felt her toss and turn in the night, her nightmares had been less violent, her whimpers fewer. Progress measured in small mercies.
"You're staring," Amelia said without looking up, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she bit into her toast.
"Guilty," I admitted, reaching across the table to tuck a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. "It's still sinking in that you're really here. Safe."
The word 'safe' hung between us, layered with meaning. Safe from her former pack. Safe from Kane and Blackthorn's machinations. But still not safe from the curse that kept Kaela trapped within her, the barrier that had reformed after that one miraculous shift.
I'd spent decades perfecting the art of solving problems with force or strategy. But this invisible enemy that hurt my mate, left me frustratingly powerless. All my strength, all my authority as Alpha King, and I couldn't tear down the wall between Amelia and her wolf.
'We find way,' Skoll insisted, pushing against the boundaries of our shared consciousness with determination. 'Mate needs us strong. Patient.'
Patience. Not a virtue either of us had in abundance. But for Amelia, I would learn.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. I recognised the measured cadence immediately, Elder Nora, her ancient stride unhurried yet purposeful. Amelia heard it too, her head lifting, those remarkable mismatched eyes brightening with hope that was becoming increasingly rare.
Nora appeared around the corner of the garden path, a leather-bound tome tucked under one arm. She looked exhausted, the weight of centuries suddenly visible in the lines of her face, in the slight stoop of shoulders that normally remained rigid with pride.
"Good morning," she greeted, settling into the empty chair at our table without waiting for an invitation. She had long ago earned the right to such familiarity. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Never," I assured her, signaling to the hovering servant to bring another cup for tea. "Have you eaten?"
"No time for such luxuries," she replied with a dismissive wave of her gnarled hand. "But I'll take the tea."
Amelia leaned forward slightly, her breakfast forgotten. "Did you find something?" she asked, unable to keep the desperate hope from her voice.
Nora's ancient eyes softened as they fell on Amelia. "Perhaps," she said, accepting the tea with a nod of thanks. "I've been researching curses that block shifting, they're rare, but not unheard of."
I felt Skoll surge forward in our shared mind, his interest as keen as my own. "And?" I prompted when Nora paused to sip her tea.
She set down her cup with deliberate care. "I believe Amelia's first shift wasn't a fluke or a temporary break in the curse," she said. "It was a response to extreme circumstances. The need to protect you, Aleksandr, to save you from Kane's plot, was so powerful that Kaela could temporarily force her way through the barrier."
"Life or death," I murmured, the pieces clicking into place. "The most primal wolf instinct—protecting their mate."
Nora nodded. "Precisely. In that moment, the wolf's need overcame whatever magic has been suppressing her."
I watched Amelia's face as she processed this information, saw the exact moment understanding gave way to crushing disappointment. Her shoulders slumped, eyes dropping to stare at her half-eaten breakfast.
"So I can't shift again unless Aleksandr is in mortal danger?" Her voice was small, fragile in a way that made my chest ache. "That's… that's not sustainable. Not fair to either of us."
'Mate sad,' Skoll whined, pushing me to comfort her. 'Fix it.'
But there was nothing to fix, not yet. I reached across the table, covering her slender hand with mine. She didn't pull away, but I felt the slight tremor running through her fingers.
"We'll figure this out," Nora said, gentler than I'd heard her in decades. "This is just the first piece of the puzzle. Now that we understand the trigger, we can work on helping Kaela find other ways through."
"How?" Amelia asked, a single tear tracking down her cheek that she quickly brushed away. "I can feel her trying every day. She throws herself against that wall until we're both exhausted and hurting. If she couldn't break through when I confronted Marcus…"
"Different kind of threat," Nora interrupted. "Marcus was a threat to your emotional wellbeing, your sense of self. But not to your life, not to Aleksandr's. The wolf responds to physical danger, to survival instincts."
I squeezed Amelia's hand, drawing her gaze back to mine. "We have time," I reminded her. "We're not giving up."
Nora cleared her throat, setting her empty teacup aside. "There's more," she said, her tone careful, measured. "I still believe your curses are connected, Aleksandr's centennial curse and whatever is blocking Kaela. They may even have a common solution."
Hope flickered in Amelia's eyes. "What solution?"
"Mating," Nora said simply. "Not the bond you've already formed, strong as it is. But the formal ritual. The true claiming." Her ancient eyes moved between us. "Mating will break Aleksandr's curse, of that I'm certain. And it might be what breaks yours, too."
I felt heat rush through me at her words, my body responding instinctively to the thought of fully claiming Amelia. Skoll growled his approval, pushing images into my mind that I quickly suppressed. This wasn't about our desires. This was about Amelia's freedom.
"There's no guarantee," Nora cautioned, perhaps reading my expression. "But it's the strongest lead I've found. I'll continue researching, of course." She rose from her chair, tucking her book back under her arm. "I'm heading back to the library. There are texts I need to reexamine."
After she departed, a heavy silence fell over our breakfast table. Amelia's food remained largely untouched, her tea grown cold beside it. The weight of Nora's words hung between us, possibilities and uncertainties swirling like autumn leaves caught in a breeze.
"Would you like to walk in the meditation garden?" I asked finally, sensing her need for peace, for space to process. "It's quiet there this time of morning."
She nodded, rising from her chair with a grace that belied her inner turmoil. I offered her my arm, and we walked in silence through the castle corridors until we reached the tranquil space I'd had designed specifically for reflection.
The meditation garden was my sanctuary—a place of carefully cultivated calm, where water flowed over smooth stones and wind chimes sang softly in the gentle breeze. We settled on a bench beneath a flowering tree, its pale petals occasionally drifting down around us like snow.
"I thought confronting Marcus would help," Amelia whispered after a long silence. "I thought letting go of that fear, that anger... I thought it might make a difference."
"It did make a difference," I said gently. "Just not in the way we hoped."
She turned to me then, her remarkable eyes swimming with tears she'd been too proud to shed before Nora. "What if I'm never whole, Aleksandr? What if I can never fully be with Kaela again? What kind of Queen can I be if I'm—" Her voice broke, the word 'broken' hanging unspoken between us.
The dam finally broke. Sobs wracked her slender frame as fear, hope, disappointment, and trauma poured out at once. I gathered her into my arms, pulling her onto my lap as if she weighed nothing, cradling her against my chest as she wept. Her tears soaked through my shirt, her fingers clutching the fabric as if it were the only thing keeping her from drowning.
"You are not broken," I murmured against her hair, rocking her gently as she cried. "You are the strongest person I've ever known. And whether you ever shift again or not, you are my mate. My Queen."
I held her until the storm passed, until her sobs quieted to hiccups and then to the occasional shuddering breath. Even then, I didn't let go, unwilling to break the fragile peace that had settled over her exhausted body.
'Protect mate,' Skoll insisted, his presence a comforting weight in my mind. 'Always protect.'
For once, we were in perfect agreement.