Chapter 90 Exhaustion - Amelia’s POV
I sat nestled against Aleksandr's chest, my tears finally exhausted, feeling hollow but somehow lighter. The garden's quiet serenity enveloped us, water trickling over smooth stones, wind chimes singing softly in the distance. I should have been embarrassed by my breakdown, by the wet patch my tears had left on his shirt, but all I felt was a strange calm. Like a storm that had finally passed after building for too long, leaving behind damaged earth that could finally begin to heal.
'Better?' Kaela asked gently, her presence in my mind like a warm hand on my shoulder. Even separated by that impenetrable wall, she remained my constant companion, my strength when mine faltered.
'Yes,' I answered silently. 'I needed that.'
Aleksandr's heart beat steadily beneath my ear, its rhythm grounding me in the present moment. His massive hand stroked slow circles on my back, each touch careful, reverent. As if I were something precious despite my perceived brokenness.
"Amelia," he said finally, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and into mine. "Where do you want to go from here?"
The question hung between us, weighted with possibility. I pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. Those dark eyes that struck fear into the hearts of his enemies now looked at me with such tenderness that my own heart ached.
"What do you mean?" I asked, though I knew. I just needed to hear him say it.
"This changes things," he said, his thumb brushing away the remnants of tears from my cheek. "Knowing that your first shift might have been triggered by extreme circumstances, that it might not happen again without similar danger... I need to know what you want."
I considered his question carefully, searching my own heart for the honest answer. Four weeks ago, I'd been a servant girl from Frozen Mountain Pack, sent as a sacrificial bride to an Alpha King rumored to kill his mates when they failed him. Now I knew those rumors for the lies they were. I knew him—the man behind the fearsome title, the heart behind the stone façade.
"I want you," I said simply, the words carrying all the weight of my conviction. "If you'll still have me. Even if I never shift again. Even if Kaela remains trapped behind this wall forever." I swallowed hard, forcing myself to continue. "But I would understand if you wanted someone... whole. Someone who could shift at will, who could run with Skoll as your equal."
'I would kill him if he rejected us now,' Kaela growled, though we both knew it was an empty threat. We couldn't bear to harm him, even if he broke our heart.
Aleksandr cupped my face in his enormous hands, his touch so gentle it made my eyes sting with fresh tears. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerously soft register that sent shivers across my skin. "Shift or no shift, you are my mate. My Queen. The only one Skoll and I have ever truly wanted."
'Damn right,' came Skoll's mental voice, clear even through our imperfect connection. The certainty in his tone matched his human's, both of them so sure of me when I was still learning to be sure of myself.
"But the curse—" I started.
"We'll face it," he interrupted, pressing his forehead to mine. "Whatever comes. We've already survived separation, kidnapping, treason. A little thing like a centuries-old curse doesn't stand a chance against us."
A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me, rusty and surprised. "A little thing," I repeated, shaking my head at his absurd confidence. "Only you would call it that."
His answering smile transformed his severe features, making him look younger, almost boyish. "Is that a yes, then? You'll stay with me? Become my Queen in truth, not just in name?"
"Yes," I whispered, the word as binding as any vow. "It's a yes."
He kissed me then, his lips gentle against mine, communicating without words everything we both felt. When we finally broke apart, the hollow feeling inside me had been replaced by something warm and bright, hope, cautious but real.
"Then we should make it official," he said, rising from the bench with me still cradled in his arms. "The council is meeting this morning anyway."
I wiggled until he set me down, smoothing my dress with nervous hands. "Now? Like this?" I gestured to my tear-stained face, my rumpled clothing.
He caught my fidgeting hands in his. "You look perfect," he said with such sincerity that I couldn't doubt him, even though I knew objectively I was a mess. "But we can stop by our chambers if you want to freshen up first."
Our chambers. The casual way he referred to his space as ours still sent a thrill through me. "Yes, please," I said, grateful for his understanding.
An hour later, wearing a fresh dress and with my hair neatly braided, I stood beside Aleksandr in his office as the council members filed in. Their curious glances slid over me, assessing, wondering. News of my failed attempts to shift again had spread throughout the castle, as had rumors of my confrontation with Marcus. I kept my chin high, Kaela's presence bolstering my courage.
'Let them look,' she growled. 'We have nothing to be ashamed of.'
The council members took their seats—Adrian Blackstone with his calculating gaze, Elara Juniper with her traditional bone beads clicking softly in her elaborate hairstyle, Victor Blackwood with his wire-rimmed glasses and ever-present notebook. The empty seats where Kane and Blackthorn should have sat were stark reminders of recent events.
Aleksandr didn't wait for them to settle completely before speaking, his voice carrying the natural authority that came so effortlessly to him. "I've called you here to announce that Amelia Lovelace and I intend to marry four weeks from today," he stated without preamble. "Preparations will begin immediately."
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken questions. Finally, Victor Blackwood cleared his throat. "And mating?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral though his gaze was sharp. "The traditional ceremony would typically occur before or during the wedding, yes?"
I felt heat rise to my cheeks at the directness of his question. Mating was a sacred, private ritual between werewolves, the formal claiming that would bind us irrevocably. It was also, according to Nora, potentially the key to breaking both our curses.
Aleksandr's hand found the small of my back, warm and steady. "When we decide it happens, it happens," he replied, his tone making it clear the subject was closed for discussion. "That is between my mate and myself. The wedding, however, is a matter of state, and I expect this council's full support in ensuring it reflects the significance of the occasion."
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur of logistics and formalities. I spoke when addressed but otherwise remained silent, watching Aleksandr in his element, commanding, decisive, brooking no argument. This was the Alpha King the world knew, so different from the gentle man who had held me while I wept.
When we finally left the council chambers, I felt drained but strangely exhilarated. In four weeks, I would officially become his wife. The thought was both terrifying and thrilling.
"You did well in there," Aleksandr said as we walked back to his, our, suite. "They respect you."
I gave him a skeptical look. "They fear you. There's a difference."
"They fear me," he agreed with a slight smile. "But they respect you. It's not the same thing."
Back in our rooms, I felt the day's emotional toll settling into my bones, a bone-deep weariness that made my limbs feel heavy. "I think I want to have a bath," I said, already imagining the comfort of warm water easing the tension from my body.
"Of course," he replied, moving toward the door. "I'll leave you in peace."
"No," I said quickly, surprising myself with my boldness. "Join me? Hold me?" I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly vulnerable. "You feel safe."
Something flickered in his eyes, surprise, then a warmth that made my heart skip. Without a word, he followed me into the massive ensuite bathroom, waiting as I filled the sunken tub with steaming water and scented oils.
The vulnerability of undressing before him still made my heart race, but for different reasons now than when we'd first met. It wasn't fear that made my hands tremble as I slipped out of my dress, but anticipation, not of anything physical, but of the simple intimacy of being held.
He undressed with efficient movements, his massive body a landscape of scars and strength. Then he slipped into the water first, settling against the back of the tub and opening his arms in silent invitation. I joined him, my back to his chest, his powerful arms encircling me as the hot water enveloped us both.
We didn't speak. We didn't need to. His heartbeat against my back, his breath stirring my hair, the gentle way his thumb traced circles on my shoulder, it said everything. Whatever came next, the wedding, the mating, the ongoing battle with our respective curses, we would face it together.
And for now, that was enough.