Chapter 146

Chapter 146
Alexander's POV

The warmth of her blood still lingered on my fingertips.

Those droplets tinged with gold slipped through the spaces between my fingers and fell onto the marble floor, each one searing my soul with its touch. Darius thrashed violently within the confines of my mental domain, his snow-white fur streaked with bloody wounds he'd clawed into his own flesh. I could sense his desperate attempts to communicate with me, but all that rose from my rattling throat was the suffocating resistance of blood.

"Your Majesty!" Halson's voice slithered into my eardrums like a serpent. "Historical archives are replete with documented cases of Golden Wolves losing control—every single one dating back three hundred years, without exception. If we simply allow her to flee, one can only imagine the catastrophe that will unfold."

I wanted to raise my hand immediately to silence him, but discovered my palm was trembling beyond my control. Cold sweat covered my skin, mirroring the disintegration of my soul in that very moment. Then I heard others nearby echoing his sentiment.

"If a rogue Golden Wolf causes casualties, how will we answer to the Coexistence Committee? For such an incident to occur on Your Majesty's very first day on the throne—it will be interpreted by those with ulterior motives as a declaration of war against human society!"

At this, Halson stepped before me once more. "Perhaps Your Majesty should choose a more prudent path to demonstrate your irreconcilable stance toward the Golden Wolf Clan. For instance, selecting a more suitable Luna—though of course, I believe your attitude just now was already sufficiently resolute—"

"Mr. Lefett." My voice emerged cold as ice, my gaze venomous. "Your son appears to be dying. Does that not concern you in the slightest?"

The blood-soaked mass of flesh on the stretcher twitched feebly. Fendia's healing power flowed over him, but for a werewolf born without a wolf spirit, those torn wounds seemed to resist treatment, much like the boiling blood in my veins resisted this absurd decision I'd made.

"Father, must you speak such strange words at a time like this!" Fendia didn't even pause to wipe the cold sweat from her face. "His condition is critical! Do you intend to announce my wedding at my brother's funeral? A wedding you've unilaterally decided upon, one that no one cares about!"

In that moment, I believe everyone present understood the truth: for someone like Lucian, a spiritless werewolf long abandoned by his family, his life held little significance—what mattered was the circumstances of his death and how they could be exploited.

Just then, Father's mental link suddenly pierced my consciousness: You did the right thing, Alexander. Julian was far too sentimental back then.

The vaulted ceiling of the throne hall suddenly warped and distorted before my eyes, the stained glass emblazoned with family crests seeming to melt and flow in my vision. I gripped the throne's armrest with crushing force, feeling Darius's anguished howl rising from my own throat.

Tell me the truth, Father. I seized both my parents' consciousness within the mental domain. On the night three hundred years ago when the Golden Wolf Clan was exterminated, did the Arctic Wolf royals who had married into their ranks sever the mate bonds first?

Mother's mental form trembled. Alexander... don't think such things. This isn't a burden you should bear.

Did they or didn't they?

My demand caused the torches lining both sides of the hall to burst simultaneously, my fury born from the realization that I had just personally verified the correct answer. The Golden Wolves had been so powerful in battle—how could they have been slaughtered to extinction in a single night? The blade that cuts through the strongest armor is always the softest, most lethal strike from a loved one. Just like today, when I hadn't needed to deploy a single soldier or even raise my hand to completely shatter Fiona.

Every Arctic Wolf King who survived made the same choice. Do you think that woman was able to mortally wound Julian by chance? It was because he wavered at the critical moment!

Father's mental presence remained formidable—the kind of strength I suspected I couldn't match even after decades of effort. Because he possessed an emperor's ruthlessness, a quality that clearly neither Julian nor I had been fortunate enough to inherit.

My knees suddenly buckled, my entire body lurching forward. I watched as that typically elegant and restrained snow wolf now gnawed at his own forepaws like a rabid creature, tearing through flesh until white bone pierced through fur. He was using this self-mutilation to fight against the backlash of a severed mate bond.

Cyril caught me just in time, and the blood I coughed up splattered across his gold-embroidered cuffs.

"His Majesty requires rest—the coronation ceremony is concluded!" Cyril, my beta, issued what was perhaps the most humiliating command of my first day in power, speaking on my behalf.

I knew the situation remained manageable, though silencing the murmuring voices would prove difficult. I also knew they were all waiting for my final decision. No—no one truly cared about Fiona's fate. Their eyes gleamed with hypocrisy, greed, or morbid curiosity, for it was the Golden Wolf's power and her blood's ability to heal all wounds that formed the underlying logic of this restless hunt.

"All clan leaders..." I forced out the words, each syllable like swallowing shattered glass. "Within one week... will receive an official announcement from the Crown. I will provide everyone with a proper accounting of this matter."

Halson opened his mouth to speak, but the pressure I released drove him to his knees. The old fox finally recognized the murderous intent churning in my eyes—if he dared pursue and harm Fiona, I would make the entire Purple Wolf Clan pay with their lives.

As I passed through the corridor, the portraits of past Wolf Kings seemed to watch me. In the painting, Julian's eyes wept blood, just as they had when his beloved nearly tore out his throat all those years ago.

"Alexander!" Cyril caught me again at a corner as I suddenly went limp. "Your pupils..."

I raised my hand to touch the icy liquid covering my face, only then realizing it wasn't sweat but blood. Darius was going mad in my mental world, using his fangs to tear at my internal organs as if trying to excavate the name Fiona Sterling from my very marrow.

"Fortunately, she left this." Cyril opened a small crystal vial and brought it to my lips. I caught the familiar scent of that blood which should have brought me comfort and peace—the vial Fiona had specifically left for me. But at this moment, for someone who had rejected her with his own hands, it was no longer a healing elixir but a curse more malicious than any witch's spell.

The instant that concentrated aroma flooded my nostrils, my chest felt as though it had been filled with an unprecedented explosion. I collapsed at the corridor's edge, blood pouring from my mouth in convulsive waves.

"Your Majesty!" Cyril watched me in horror, acutely aware of his own helplessness. "The backlash from voluntarily severing a bond is unpredictable, especially... when deep love still exists..."

"How fortunate, then." My body went numb fighting the pain, yet my mind remained unusually clear. "At least for Fiona, the moment she was betrayed, her love for me was replaced by overwhelming hatred. Her suffering won't last long, will it?"

Tears gathered in Cyril's eyes. "I don't understand why you're doing this, Alexander."

"Because love has always been a heavier burden than any crown." The path of standing beside her against the entire world—Julian had already walked it once, and still he couldn't save the woman he loved.

I clenched my fingers so tightly I nearly clawed deep fissures into the solid floor. I prayed Darius would survive this—in all the world, he was the one who should understand me best. He had to survive, because as long as I lived, Fiona would one day see her golden fur shine brilliantly again.

Urgent footsteps suddenly echoed from the corridor's end as Fendia ran toward us, lifting her skirts. "Alexander, Lucian's condition has deteriorated... he seems to have already..." But when she saw my state, she couldn't suppress a cry of alarm. "God! You look terrible too... Cyril, haven't you called for the medical team?"

"This is the backlash from forcibly severing a fated bond—he can only endure it alone." Cyril explained to Fendia. "Perhaps all we can do is prevent those with ill intentions from taking advantage of His Majesty at his most vulnerable moment."

Fendia sighed. "I should be grateful that my love for you stems entirely from instinctive attraction and has nothing to do with the Moon Goddess, because I dare not imagine if the person experiencing everything Fiona went through today were me..."

I raised my hand to silence her, then gestured for Cyril to give Fendia the precious vial of blood. "Go save your foolish brother. If he dies, all leads die with him. And tell your father Halson... he may continue his politically expedient contortions and survival tactics, but he should never presume he's acquired the ability to overstep his authority."

Darius suddenly surged violently, forcing me to press my temples before I could continue. "Because I have no desire to make your branch of the clan the first target of my post-coronation purge."

Whatever rights or wrongs occurred three hundred years ago no longer justified reigniting war in the present day. But those who sought to exploit ancestral mistakes to maintain their parasitic positions would certainly pay the price for their selfishness and stupidity.