Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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The music hasn’t even finished recovering from Wade’s little humiliation when the High Priest stands.
I hear the scrape of his chair before I see him. Wood on stone. Sharp. Wrong timing. My shoulders tense beneath silk before my brain catches up, instincts already barking that something’s off.
The strings of the orchestra lower. One by one, like they’re being strangled.
Servants freeze mid–step. A goblet hovers in the air near the edge of the platform, trembling in a girl’s hand. Conversations die out like someone just closed a door on them. The High Priest clears his throat.
Is this his influence?
That’s when I feel it. His eyes are on me.
Not Alaric. Not Wade. Not the crowd.
Me.
Through the veil.
I don’t move. I don’t blink. I let him look. Let him sweat about whether I see him back. My spine stays straight, chin tilted just enough to be regal without trying. I’ve learned that confidence isn’t loud. It’s stillness.
“Your Majesty,” the High Priest begins, voice smooth but stretched thin at the edges, like fabric pulled too tight. “Honored Alphas. Esteemed guests p>
Alaric’s arm tightens around my waist and I could tell he’s bored already.
I rest my palm against his chest, feeling the steady thud beneath my fingers. Easy now.
“The Goddess smiles upon this gathering tonight,” the Priest continues. “For we are graced by the presence of her chosen vessel p>
Here it comes. I turn my head slightly. Just enough.
Ariel sits at Wade’s side, pale blue fabric draped over her shoulders, her hand–always that fucking hand- resting on her belly like it’s a holy relic. She’s smiling. Soft. Demure. Practiced.
She’s been playing this role a long time.
“The Saintess Ariel,” the High Priest says reverently, lifting his hands. “Blessed among us. Carrying life touched by divine favor p>
Polite applause ripples through the hall, just enough to look obedient.
My jaw tightens beneath the veil. I don’t look at Ariel. I look at him. The High Priest’s gaze flickers. Just for a second. Not to the crowd. Not to the King.
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Chapter 68
To Ariel.
Too fast. Too familiar. Their eyes locked and sa small smirk forms on their lips.
What the… fuck?
Oh.
Oh.
Something ugly clicks into place.
I glance across the platform.
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Beta Cassian is leaning against one of the pillars, arms crossed, expression neutral. When my eyes meet his, his brow lifts–just a fraction. Not surprised.
It’s confirmed.
I swallow slowly.
The Priest continues speaking, blessing the unborn child, invoking protection, prosperity, legitimacy. Each word lands heavier now that I’m really listening. His voice wavers when he mentions the Goddess by name.
Guilt does that to people.
I track Ariel now. The way her fingers press into her stomach, not protective–possessive. The way she doesn’t look at Wade when the blessing is for their child. The way her eyes keep drifting back to the High Priest as though she’s checking for approval.
Like a lover would. Ugh, ew. What? He’s like sixty!
My stomach drops, sharp and cold.
Temple visits. Isolation. Power laundering. A saintess who never bleeds, never prays alone, never gets sick.
And a High Priest who’s too invested in one woman’s womb.
You absolute fucking idiot.
I exhale through my nose, slow and controlled. Shock hits first–clean and sharp. Then comes clarity, settling into place like armor.
Alaric shifts beneath me, distracted. His thumb brushes my hip absentmindedly. He’s watching my reaction, not the room. It’s always me first.
Good.
I slide my hand up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat, and tilt his chin up. He looks at me, amber eyes bright with curiosity, mouth already twitching like he knows I’m about to start something.
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“We need to introduce ourselves,” I murmur, low enough that only he hears.
Not a request A directive.
His grin spreads slow and dangerous. “Now?” he asks softly, clearly entertained.
I don’t answer. I just squeeze once, nails biting lightly into his jaw.
He laughs under his breath and kisses my neck, right below the veil. We’re doing this in front of everyone, by the way Geez. can’t he at least try to be more discrete? It’s like a warning shot to the entire fucking hall.
Then he releases me.
I rise smoothly, stepping off his lap as though it’s something I do every day–which, honestly, it is now. My feet hit the stone platform. Cold seeps through the thin soles of my shoes.
I bow.
Not deep. Not submissive. Just enough to be formal.
Alaric doesn’t wait.
Of course he doesn’t.
He stands as he straightens his coat, and walks to the edge of the platform. The room goes silent again, faster this time. Like they’ve learned.
“The Imperial Crown,” he says, voice carrying without effort, “acknowledges the future heir of the Woodridge Pack p>
Wade stiffens visibly. Ariel’s fingers curl around the table edge.
“Bring them forward,” Alaric commands.
They don’t hesitate. That’s the thing about power–it doesn’t need permission.
Wade stands first, jaw tight, eyes locked on me like I might vanish if he blinks. Ariel rises more slowly, smoothing her dress, breathing shallow.
They approach the base of the platform together.
I step forward to stand beside Alaric. Before anyone else can speak, I do.
“This blessing,” I say clearly, calmly, “will be different p>
The murmurs start immediately. Whispers skitter across the hall like nervous animals.
“What?
“What is that consort talking about p>
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Chapter 68
“How’s it gonna be different?
I don’t look at the elders. I look at Ariel and my eyes catches her as she freezes.
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“As the Saintess is present,” I continue, wrapping my arm through Alaric’s, claiming him openly, “it seems only fitting that she bless our union as well p>
Alaric turns to me, surprised for half a second. I didn’t really inquire this from him earlier.
Then he smiles, clearly delighted.
Ariel’s composure fractures for just a crack–but I see it. Her eyes flick to Wade. Then to the High Priest.
Panic.
Real panic.
Wade hesitates, then nods slowly, trapped by etiquette and pride and too many eyes. Well, he doesn’t really know his wife’s a fake.
“Of course,” he says, voice hoarse.
I hold Ariel’s gaze. Your move now.
And for the first time tonight, she has nowhere left to run.
Silence stretches.
Not the polite kind. The kind that presses against your ears until you’re aware of your own breathing. Alaric’s hand slides from my waist to rest openly at my lower back. It’s possessive and never gentle. Just… there. A statement where everyone can see a line is drawn.
“Saintess Willow,” he says, voice smooth as polished steel. “Step forward p>
Ariel flinches.
It’s small and barely there. But I see it. The way her shoulders tense before she schools them back into grace. The way her fingers twitch at her sides like they’re looking for something to cling to.
She moves.
Wade doesn’t look at her. He doesn’t look anywhere except me. I’m still wearing the veil and I doubt he can see anything but Goddess, it’s as though he’s afraid if he blinks, I’ll disappear again.
They stop at the foot of the platform.
Close enough now that I can smell Ariel’s perfume – something floral and sharp, layered too heavily, as if she poured it on to hide fear. Close enough that I can see the faint sheen of sweat at her temple.
Alaric steps forward first.
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Chapter 68
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The room seems to shrink around him when he moves. Chairs feel smaller. Ceilings feel lower. Even the elders sit straighter without realizing it.
He places one hand over Ariel’s abdomen.
The contact is brief. Symbolic. Controlled.
“This union,” he says, voice carrying effortlessly, “falls under Imperial acknowledgment. The child within carries blood recognized by the Crown p>
Wade’s jaw tightens.
Ariel’s breath stutters. Alaric doesn’t look at either of them.
“May the child be born whole,” he continues, tone flat, formal, “unharmed by deceit, and untouched by false claims p>
That last part lands like a dropped glass.
Sharp. Final.
He removes his hand.
The hall remains silent. There’s no applause. No approval. Just tension humming in the air like a live wire. Then I step forward.
If the crown blesses the kid, then she, as the saintess, blesses us too. That’s the exchange.
My shoes click against the stone as I move to stand beside him. I feel every eye shift to me. Measuring. Judging. Waiting.
“The exchange,” I say calmly, “may now be fulfill p>
I’m cut off as a voice from the crown walks forward with pride. “Wait!” Ugh, what now?
An elder from Woodridge clears his throat. I recognize him. Of course I do. He was always loud when it was safe to be.
“With respect,” he says, lifting his chin, “this decision does not fall to a consort.” He mutteres and everyone around him agrees. “She’s a woman and thus doesn’t have any saying in all this.” He adds and I could see Ariel’s face light up.
If they’re right, then she doesn’t have to bless anyone. No one would know she doesn’t have any powers to wield. I turn back at the elder and raise a brow. Everyone nods at him. “She should remain p>
The growl cuts him off.
It’s not loud. It doesn’t need to be.
It rolls through the room low and vicious, vibrating in my bones more than my ears. Alaric doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t even bare his teeth.
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But every wolf in the hall feels it.
“Anyone,” he says softly, “who disrespects my woman in this hall will pray for death long before it finds them p>
I watch as the elder pales. The blood leaving his face. A smirk forms on my lips when it shouldn’t. I turn to Alaric. Damn it, why is he so powerful?
No one speaks after that.
Good.
Alaric steps down one level of the platform.
I follow.
Now we’re standing directly in front of Wade and Ariel. No height. No distance. It’s just truth and nowhere to hide.
My heart isn’t racing. That surprises me.
What I feel instead is… steady. As if something finally clicking into place.
Here we go.
I lift my hand.
The veil comes free in one smooth motion.
Fabric whispers as it slides away.
Gasps of shock ripple through the hall.
Sharp. Immediate. Uncontrolled.
Cold air brushes my face. I breathe it in fully, like I’ve been holding my breath for years and only just noticed.
Wade’s face drains of color.
His eyes widen. His mouth opens–and for once, no words come out. Then his breath breaks.
“S–sorin,” he whispers.
Not loud enough for the room. Loud enough for me.
I meet his gaze. Really look at him. The man who watched me bleed. The man who chose another woman, The man who couldn’t see me until I was standing in front of him, untouchable.
I don’t feel triumph.
I feel done.
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Chapter 68
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I turn to everyone in the room and form a smile, “I am…” I glance at Alaric as he looks at me with pride in those crimson eyes,
“–the King’s woman p>
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