Chapter 92 Justice - Aleksandr’s POV
We left the throne room behind us, but the rage followed like a shadow I couldn't outrun. My hand engulfed Amelia's smaller one, the contrast of her delicate bones against my massive fingers a reminder of how easily I could break what I loved most.
Six weeks.
Six weeks until my hundredth birthday, when the curse would claim me completely if we hadn't found a way to break it.
The thought sent a fresh wave of darkness rippling through me, a thick mist clouding my mind. I tried to focus on the rhythm of our footsteps echoing through the corridor, on the subtle warmth of Amelia's hand in mine, but the curse pulled at me, whispering temptations of violence and release.
"Aleksandr?" Amelia's voice reached me as if through water, distorted and distant despite her walking beside me. "Are you alright?"
I managed a nod, not trusting my voice. The sight of Kane and Blackthorn kneeling before us, the scent of their fear, the power of holding their lives in my hands, it had awakened something primal in me, something the curse used now to claw its way deeper into my consciousness.
Every Alpha King before me had faced this moment. The centennial curse was as predictable as it was devastating; a slow deterioration of control that accelerated in the final months before the hundredth birthday. I'd heard stories of my father going through it, before he found my mother, his true Queen. But she had been a powerful wolf in her own right, able to shift at will, to run beside him when the moon called.
Amelia, my beautiful, brave Amelia, couldn't even access her wolf. And here I was, leading her down an empty corridor, my control fraying with each step.
'Slipping,' Skoll's voice whispered in our shared mind, a desperate warning rather than his usual confidence. 'Control slipping. Danger. Mate in danger.'
I should have released Amelia's hand then. Should have ordered her away from me, sent her somewhere safe until I could regain control. But the selfish part of me, the part that had grown stronger as the curse progressed, couldn't bear to let her go. I needed her close. Needed her scent, her touch, her presence to anchor me.
The first sign that I was truly losing control came when my vision began to bleed red at the edges. The corridor ahead narrowed, details blurring as my focus sharpened on Amelia's pulse, visible in the delicate skin of her throat, audible to my enhanced hearing, a drumbeat of life that seemed to echo through my entire body.
'No!' Skoll's panic surged through our bond. 'Not mate. Never mate. PROTECT mate.'
But the curse was stronger, wrapping tendrils of shadow around Skoll's presence, muffling his desperate pleas. I felt my canines lengthen, pressing against my bottom lip. Felt my fingers tighten around Amelia's until she made a small sound of discomfort.
"Aleksandr," she said again, her voice sharper now, tinged with concern rather than fear. "Look at me."
I couldn't. If I looked at her, the curse would know exactly what I valued most. Would use that knowledge against me.
The darkness surged, flooding my consciousness until there was nothing but the red-tinged vision, the thundering of her heart, the scent of lavender and vanilla that marked her as mine. I felt myself moving without conscious decision, felt my body turn toward her, hands reaching…
And then I was pressing her against the cold stone wall, one hand around her throat, claws extended but not yet piercing her skin. Her mismatched eyes widened, but still, impossibly, held no fear, only a fierce determination that cut through the fog like a blade.
I tried to pull back, to warn her, but my voice emerged as a guttural growl. My free hand slammed into the wall beside her head, stone crumbling beneath my fingers. The curse sang in my veins, urging me to tighten my grip, to feel her life force ebb beneath my hand, to take what was mine completely.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the guards who had been trailing us at a discreet distance rush forward, silver handcuffs glinting in their hands. They had been prepared for this, I realised dimly. Had been waiting for me to snap, to prove myself the monster everyone feared.
But Amelia, my incredible, impossible mate, raised her hand to stop them. "No," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the pressure of my hand against her throat. "Leave us. He won't hurt me."
The guards hesitated, torn between her command and their duty to protect. I could smell their fear, their uncertainty. One wrong move from me would end with silver burning into my wrists, with Amelia pulled away from me, perhaps forever. The thought sent a fresh wave of rage coursing through me, my growl deepening to something that made the guards take an involuntary step back.
Then Amelia's hands were on my face, cool and soft against my burning skin. Her touch was gentle but insistent, turning my head until I had no choice but to meet her gaze. Those remarkable eyes, one green, one blue, locked with mine, refusing to look away even as my canines lengthened further.
"Come back to me," she whispered, her thumbs stroking across my cheekbones. "Aleksandr. My mate. Come back."
Her voice penetrated the darkness, a lifeline I grasped with desperate strength. I focused on the pressure of her hands against my skin, on the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath mine, on the absolute trust shining in her eyes despite the danger I posed.
Slowly, agonisingly, the red haze began to recede. My vision cleared enough to see what I was doing, my hand around her throat, my claws a whisper away from drawing blood. Horror flooded through me, so intense it drove back the curse's influence like a physical blow.
I released her instantly, stumbling backward on unsteady legs, my back hitting the opposite wall with enough force to crack the stone. "Amelia," I gasped, her name a prayer and a plea. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
She rubbed her throat where my hand had been, but her expression held no accusation, no fear, only concern. For me. After what I'd nearly done.
"I know," she said simply, crossing the distance between us without hesitation. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"
I nodded, unable to find words adequate for the terror coursing through me. Not fear for myself, but for her. For what I might do if the curse progressed much further. For the fact that I'd almost…
'Failed,' Skoll whimpered, his presence in our shared mind smaller somehow, more distant than he'd been even yesterday. 'Failed to protect mate. Failed pack. Failed everything.'
His anguish cut deeper than any physical pain. My wolf, my other half, my strength since childhood, was slipping away from me, our connection weakening as the curse drove a wedge between us. Soon we would be separate entities, the wolf consumed by instinct, the man trapped in a body he could no longer control.
But then, like a beam of sunlight breaking through storm clouds, I felt Kaela's presence brush against Skoll's. Despite the barrier that kept her from fully merging with Amelia, despite her own pain and frustration, she reached out to comfort my suffering wolf.
'We've got you, mate,' her voice came, warm and fierce through our bond. 'Both of you. We won't let go.'
I watched as Amelia stepped closer, her hands returning to my face without a trace of hesitation. The guards still hovered nearby, silver cuffs at the ready, but she ignored them completely, her focus entirely on me.
"We'll figure this out," she promised, rising on tiptoe to press her forehead against mine. "Together. The way we've figured everything else out."
I didn't deserve her courage, her forgiveness. But I would spend whatever time I had left earning it. I closed my eyes, breathing in her scent, letting it wash away the last traces of the curse's influence. For now, at least, I was myself again. But the darkness lingered at the edges of my consciousness, waiting for another moment of weakness, another chance to claim what had been marked as its own a century ago.