Chapter 66
Chapter 66
SORIN
I wake on my back, staring at the ceiling though it personally offended me.
Alaric is draped over me.
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Not delicately. Not sweetly. He’s heavy–an arm thrown across my stomach, his thigh hooked over mine, his head pressed against my chest, a damn pillow he decided was his.
His breathing is slow and steady, warm air brushing the underside of my jaw. One of his hands flexes in his sleep, fingers curling as if he’s afraid I might vanish if he loosens his grip.
I don’t move at first.
The room is massive, all stone and gold and quiet power. Sunlight leaks through the tall windows in pale stripes, catching on polished floors and carved pillars. Everything smells clean–linen, wood polish, faint traces of his soap. Somewhere far down the palace halls, metal clinks. Guards changing shifts. A door opening. Life continuing though this room isn’t holding a secret right in the center of it.
Me.
Sleeping in the Lycan King’s bed under his command.
Tully’s shriek rings in my ears as if it happened five minutes ago instead of last night. She’s high–pitched, furious, half–delighted. She’d nearly dropped the tray she was holding when she found out where I was sleeping now.
You’re joking, she’d said.
I hadn’t been.
I lift one hand slowly and slide my fingers into Alaric’s hair. It’s thick, dark, softer than it has any right to be for someone who could tear a man apart barehanded. His brow smooths under my touch, the perpetual tension easing as if my fingers flipped a switch.
That, right there, pisses me off a little.
I shouldn’t have this effect on him. I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t earn it. Didn’t want the responsibility that came with it.
But here we are.
A knock sounds at the door.
I don’t flinch nor do I shift. “Come in,” I say calmly.
The door opens, hinges whispering. An omega steps inside carrying a breakfast tray. She takes two steps in- and freezes. I think she does this everyday and this one is an exception.
Chapter 66
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Her eyes
flick from me to Alaric. To the way he’s sprawled across me, bare shoulders exposed, mouth parted slightly against my skin. Her ears flush red so fast it’s almost impressive.
She looks like she wants to evaporate.
I hide my smile.
She clears her throat and keeps her eyes glued to the far wall as she crosses the room with stiff little steps, sets the tray down on the table, bows too deeply, and practically sprints out without a word.
The door shuts.
Sunlight creeps higher, washing over the bed. Over his face. The sharp line of his jaw. The scar under it I know came from a training accident years ago. His skin is warm where it presses into mine, solid and real and entirely too comfortable.
He stirs.
His head lifts slowly, amber eyes blinking open, unfocused at first. Then they land on me.
And soften.
There it is–that look. It as if the world narrows to one point and I’m standing dead center in it.
He leans in automatically.
I turn my head before his mouth can reach mine.
“No p>
It’s not sharp. Not cruel. Just final.
He pauses, hovering there, then pulls back slightly. A slow grin spreads across his face, lazy and unapologetic. “Morning to you too p>
“I’m serious,” I say. “You don’t get to wake up and claim me as if it’s already done p>
He chuckles and props himself up on one elbow, still very much on top of me. “You’re in my bed p>
“Under your command,” I correct. “I’m still not the Queen yet. Just as I’m to earn my position, that leaves yo to earn me, Your Highness.” I smirk as I circle my fingers underneath his chin like a dog.
His grin widens. “I could give you that crown right now p>
“That’s exactly the problem.” I slide out from under him, the cool air hitting my skin as I stand. “Power given is power taken back. I’m not accepting legitimacy like a favor p>
He watches me move, unbothered, eyes tracking every step. “You shouldn’t have to earn being queen p>
“I will,” I say, pulling on a robe. “Or I won’t be it at all p>
For a moment, something dark flickers behind his eyes. Then it’s gone, replaced by that infuriatingly easy confidence. “Fine. Earn it. I’ll just be here… waiting p>
I don’t dignify that with a response.
As I dress, my mind drifts where I don’t want it to. To Wade. To the child in Ariel’s belly. To the truth sitting like a loaded weapon between my ribs.
I’m going to have to tell him.
That the child isn’t his.
That everything he thinks he lost wasn’t stolen the way he believes–it was poisoned from the inside.
I still don’t even know who the father is.
The guilt flares, sharp and unwelcome, but I shove it down. I’ve gone too far to stop this revenge now. My father’s face flashes in my mind, broken and still, and the guilt hardens into something colder.
I still need to know what happened to my own father.
I’m not retreating.
By afternoon, the palace is alive with movement.
We walk the corridors side by side, guards lining the walls, staff bowing as we pass. I keep my chin level, my steps steady. Every nod, every acknowledgment is deliberate. Controlled.
They’re watching me. Judging how I wear this place. How I carry his shadow.
The courtyard opens ahead, sunlight glaring off stone. Carriages wait in a neat row. Horses stamp and snort. The air smells like leather and dust and anticipation. We had the option to run instead but hell if Alaric decides to run in such heat.
Not unless he’s out to shove his paws inside someone’s chest and pluck their hearts out in a war.
Although with the carriage comes the problem.
His fucking bratty ass.
Alaric exhales sharply. “Tell me again why he’s coming p>
I don’t even look at him. “Because diplomacy isn’t optional p>
“He enjoys provoking me p>
“Yes,” I say mildly as I nod at one of the elders. “And you enjoy reacting p>
His brattiness however is coming from one source today.
Chapter 66
Beta Cassian is coming with us to the Woodridge Pack.
His jaw tightens. “I sure hope that envoy bastard doesn’t forget his place p>
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“That’s because he knows exactly where it is,” I reply and glare at him to which everyone quickly turn away at. It’s like they’re not used to seeing their own King follow someone’s words. That’s cause he gives the word. “Behave.” I hiss.
He mutters something under his breath, but he does.
For now.
As we approach the carriage, I feel it—that tightening in my chest. The pull of what’s waiting for us. Woodridge. The past. The lies about to crack.
Something is coming.
And this time, I’m not running from it.
I don’t look back as the palace doors close behind us.
Stone echoes. Hooves scrape. The afternoon sun sits too high, too bright, like it’s mocking the knot tightening under my ribs.
Beta Cassian stands near the second carriage, hands folded behind his back, postu looks composed. Men like him always do–built for courtrooms and wars they nev
Ss. Of course he
d in.
A guard clears his throat and steps forward, bowing at Alaric and nodding at me to which I find Alaric glaring at him for. “My King. There’s been… an issue p>
Alaric stops short. I feel it before I see it—his shoulders locking, his spine going rigid like someone just flicked
a switch.
“What issue,” he says flatly.
“The envoy’s carriage,” the coachman says, hat clutched in both hands. “Axle cracked during inspection. He’s not safe for travel p>
Silence stretches and Cassian who’s now walking towards us lifts a brow. Amused. Barely. “Unfortunate timing p>
Alaric’s mouth curves. Slow. Sharp. “Then he rides with the guards p>
I inhale through my nose.
“No,” I say.
Both men turn to me. What the hell would everyone think of the Imperial Pack? Putting their guests with the guards?
Alaric blinks once. “No p>
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I step forward, skirts brushing stone. “He’s an invited envoy, not a criminal being escorted. Putting him with guards makes us look unprepared p>
Alaric scoffs. “We don’t need to look like anything. We are the Imperial Pack p>
“Yes,” I say calmly. “And reputation is how you remind others of that without drawing blood p>
Cassian’s gaze flicks to me, assessing. Not grateful. Just… curious.
Alaric steps closer, towering, heat rolling off him. “I don’t want him in our carriage p>
“I know p>
“I want it to be just us p>
“I know,” I repeat, firmer now.
His jaw ticks.
I turn to Cassian before Alaric can escalate. “Beta Cassian. I apologize for the inconvenience. You’ll ride with
us p>
Cassian inclines his head. “I appreciate the courtesy, Luna p>
Alaric makes a low sound in his throat. Not quite a growl. Close enough that the
iffen.
Cassian’s lips twitch.
Oh, he enjoys this.
Alaric snaps his gaze to him. “Don’t p>
Cassian only smiles politely. Bastard.
Before Alaric can say something diplomatic–or homicidal– I step closer to him, pressing into his space. His attention drops instantly, eyes burning down at me.
I rise on my toes and murmur, low enough that no one else hears, “Behave, and I’ll make it worth your while later p>
His expression changes. Immediately. Geez, what a kid.
The tension drains from his shoulders like someone pulled a plug. His mouth curls into a smug, satisfied “You should have started with that,” he says softly.
I pull back, rubbing my temple. Gods help me.
He turns to Cassian, all sharp edges wrapped in silk. “Get in p>
Cassian’s smile widens by a fraction. “After you, my King p>
Chapter 66
They’re both insufferable.
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Cole catches my eye from a few steps away. He gives a helpless shrug, lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh.
Traitor.
As we move to board, both men reach for me at the same time.
Cassian offers his hand, palm up. “Allow me p>
A warning rumble rolls out of Alaric’s chest as he offers his own hand for me to hold.
“I can get in myself–ah!” I squeal. Too late.
Alaric’s hands clamp around my waist and I yelp as he lifts me clean off the ground. Stone blurs. My skirts flare.
“Alaric!” I hiss.
He deposits me inside the carriage as though I weigh nothing, climbing in immediately after. He pulls me into his side, arm locking around my back, possession written all over him.
Cassian steps in last, smooth as ever, settling across from us.
The door shuts.
Alaric smirks at him. “Careful where you look p>
Cassian’s gaze flicks to mine, then away. “I wouldn’t dream of it p>
The carriage lurches forward.
I lean back, staring out the window as the palace slips away. Sunlight flashes between trees. Stone gives way road.
Woodridge Pack waits ahead.
My stomach tightens. I’m finally coming back.
I don’t know what’s left there. I don’t know who survived. I don’t know what truths are about to su
who they’ll destroy when they do.
Alaric’s grip tightens slightly, like he feels it too.
The road stretches on.
And something in my chest whispers-
This time, nothing is staying buried.
10:31 Fri, Jan 16
75
Chapter 66
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I turn to the two men in the carriage. Well, I suppose I’m not coming back totally empty handed anyway.
Bring it on, Ariel.
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