Chapter 91 Breathe - Amelia’s POV
The royal guard parted before us as Aleksandr guided me toward the throne room, his hand steady at the small of my back. The massive doors loomed ahead, carved with wolves in various poses of victory and dominance, a silent warning to any who might challenge the Alpha King's authority. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a reminder that today wasn't about me, but about justice. Kane and Blackthorn would finally answer for their crimes. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was playing a part in someone else's story, a servant girl dressed up as royalty. The weight of what awaited inside those doors pressed down on me with each step.
'Breathe,' Kaela murmured in my mind, her presence warm despite the barrier between us. 'You belong here as much as anyone.'
I drew strength from her conviction even as the guards pulled the heavy doors open, revealing the throne room in all its intimidating splendor. The space stretched out before us, impossibly vast, with obsidian floors that swallowed light rather than reflecting it. Silver veins ran through the black granite walls like frozen lightning, catching the morning sunlight that streamed through tall, narrow windows. The room was already filling with spectators—council members in their formal attire, high-ranking pack members from across the territory, journalists granted the rare privilege of covering royal proceedings.
But what caught my eye, what made me falter mid-step, was the dais at the far end of the room. Aleksandr's throne, carved from a single piece of obsidian and inlaid with silver, had been joined by a second throne. Equally massive, equally ornate, positioned not behind or below his as tradition might dictate for a consort, but directly beside it. Equal. A queen's throne.
"Aleksandr?" I whispered, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.
He bent slightly, his lips brushing my temple in a gesture that sent shivers across my skin. "For my queen," he murmured, the possessive note in his voice making my heart stutter. "Where else would you sit?"
Before I could respond, he was guiding me forward again, his stride confident and unhurried despite the hundreds of eyes following our progress. I forced myself to match his pace, to keep my chin high even as whispers rippled through the gathering crowd. The wolfless girl. The Alpha Queen who shifted once but never again. The servant who captured the Alpha King's heart.
The dais felt impossibly high as we climbed the three shallow steps. Aleksandr led me to the right-hand throne, his hand leaving my back only to take mine, raising it to his lips in a gesture that silenced the room. "My queen," he said, loud enough for all to hear, before pressing a kiss to my forehead that felt like a blessing, a claiming, a promise.
I sank into the throne, the cool stone quickly warming beneath me, as if accepting my presence. Aleksandr took his seat beside me, his massive frame making even the oversized throne seem almost too small. His hand found mine between our seats, fingers intertwining with mine in a silent show of support.
The council members filed into their designated seats in a semicircle before the dais, Nora's ancient face serene despite the gravity of the proceedings, Victor Blackwood's sharp eyes missing nothing behind his wire-rimmed glasses, Elara Juniper's bone beads clicking softly as she inclined her head respectfully in our direction. Lady Isolde Redwood sat stiffly in what had once been Kane's seat, her white hair elaborately styled, her expression carefully neutral though I could smell the faint trace of disapproval in her scent.
Once the council was seated, the citizens followed suit, settling into the tiered seating with a rustle of expensive fabrics and whispered observations. The room grew still, expectant, as Aleksandr raised his free hand, signalling the start of proceedings.
"Bring in the accused," he commanded, his deep voice resonating through the vast space without effort.
The side doors opened, and Kane and Blackthorn were led in, silver chains binding their wrists and ankles. The metal was designed to suppress their wolves, to keep them docile and controllable. Even so, guards flanked them on all sides, vigilant for any sign of resistance.
Both men looked diminished since I'd last seen them. Kane's usually immaculate appearance had given way to unkempt hair and a wrinkled suit that hung oddly on his frame, as if he'd lost weight during his confinement. Blackthorn's bruises had faded to sickly yellow-green smudges, but new lines had etched themselves around his eyes and mouth, aging him a decade in a matter of days.
I tightened my grip on Aleksandr's hand, steadying myself against the surge of emotions their presence evoked. Fear. Anger. And something uglier that I didn't want to acknowledge, satisfaction at seeing them brought so low.
'They deserve worse,' Kaela growled, her rage a hot counterpoint to my unease.
The trial began with formality and precision. A court official outlined the charges; treason, kidnapping, conspiracy to commit regicide. The evidence presentation began with the security footage showing my supposed departure from the castle, followed by the enhanced version revealing the impersonator's subtle differences. Then came footage I hadn't seen before, recordings of the interrogation of Blackthorn, captured by hidden cameras in the council chamber.
I watched myself on the massive screen, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands as I recounted each detail of my captivity. The calm way I described the wolfsbane drip, the cell conditions, the threats made against Aleksandr's life. The person on that screen seemed stronger than I felt sitting on the throne, more certain of her place in this world.
Beside me, Aleksandr's tension grew with each passing minute. I could feel it in the tightening of his fingers around mine, in the subtle change in his scent, pine and cedar darkening to something sharper, more dangerous. His wolf was close to the surface, rage building as the evidence mounted.
'Skoll,' Kaela called, her mental voice deliberately soothing despite the pain I could feel radiating through her. The barrier between us seemed to thin whenever emotions ran high, allowing more of her through. 'Calm, mate. We're safe now.'
I felt rather than heard Skoll's answering whine, a vibration through our imperfect bond. Kaela pushed forward in my mind, closer to that invisible wall than she'd been since our failed attempt in the forest. I could almost see them, Kaela's massive black form pressing against Skoll's, their eyes meeting across that barrier, providing comfort even as they remained separated.
The proceedings shifted into direct interrogation. Guards forced Kane and Blackthorn to their knees in the centre of the floor, facing the dais where we sat in judgment. Aleksandr nodded to Adrian Blackstone, who stepped forward to begin the questioning.
His methods were ruthlessly efficient. Questions delivered in rapid succession, designed to trip them into contradictions. When Blackthorn hesitated too long, a guard pressed a silver-tipped rod against the back of his neck—not enough to burn, but enough to threaten. Kane maintained his composure longer, his political training evident in each carefully worded response, but even he broke when Adrian produced documents found in his private safe; detailed plans for Aleksandr's "containment" should the curse progress too rapidly, complete with diagrams of silver restraints and precisely calculated doses of wolfsbane.
"And these?" Adrian asked, producing another set of papers. "Plans for Miss Lovelace's permanent removal?"
Kane's eyes flicked to mine for an instant, something like regret flickering across his face before vanishing behind his politician's mask. "Contingency plans only," he replied smoothly. "Standard procedure for potential threats to kingdom stability."
The silver rod pressed harder against his neck, and this time, the scent of burning flesh filled the air. Kane's composure finally cracked, a pained hiss escaping through clenched teeth.
I flinched, my free hand gripping the armrest of my throne. This wasn't justice, it was torture disguised as interrogation. Yet a dark part of me, a part I didn't want to acknowledge, felt vindicated. Kaela's satisfaction rumbled through our bond, primal and uncomplicated.
'They hurt us,' she reminded me. 'They would have killed our mate.'
When the interrogation finally ended, Aleksandr rose to his feet, pulling me gently up beside him. His hand trembled slightly in mine, the only outward sign of the rage I knew was building within him, threatening his control.
"The evidence is conclusive," he declared, voice like gravel. "For crimes of high treason against the crown, conspiracy to commit regicide, and the kidnapping and imprisonment of the Alpha Queen, I sentence both Victor Kane and Thaddeus Blackthorn to death. Execution to be carried out at dawn tomorrow." His eyes swept over the silent room. "This council is dismissed."
Without waiting for the customary acknowledgments, he turned, guiding me down the steps and toward the private exit behind the thrones. I could feel the tension radiating from him, the rigid control that kept Skoll contained growing thinner with each passing moment.
As the door closed behind us, sealing us off from the throne room's oppressive formality, I caught one last glimpse of Kane and Blackthorn being dragged away. Justice had been served, but the bitter taste it left in my mouth surprised me. Perhaps because I knew that verdicts and executions wouldn't fix what was broken inside me, or heal what was breaking inside my mate.