Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Alaric’s lap is solid beneath me–and his hands are already exactly where I knew they’d go the second my ass touched him.
The room–full of Elders, Alphas, advisors–goes dead silent.
Perfect.
Heat drags across my spine as his fingers flex against my hips, the weight of his grip is making every part of me aware of exactly where I’m sitting. Exactly what I’m pressing against. Exactly how reckless this is.
I’ll be damned once this is over.
Which is why I lean forward, whispering a secret with my body. My chest brushes his, my breath ghosts over his jaw, and his hand fists a little harder on my thigh.
My cheek settles against the side of his neck, right over that spot where his pulse always kicks harder when he’s two seconds from losing control.
“Mm,” I murmur, letting out a tiny breath though I’m exhausted from the big scary council men yelling at me.
He knows what I’m doing.
Hell, everyone knows.
It makes my pulse stutter.
He feels that too. His heartbeat kicks under my lips, hard enough to match mine, and then-
Yeah. That.
He’s already getting hard beneath me, not caring that we’re surrounded, not caring that this is the council room of the biggest kingdom on the continent. I feel his cock thicken against the inside of my thigh, and breath hitches before I can stop it.
He notices instantly–of course he does–because the bastard’s jaw ticks against my temple.
my
Around us, chairs scrape and robes rustle. The kind of sound people make when they’re watching something they know they shouldn’t be watching, but can’t look away from.
One of the Elders chokes on air.
Another clears his throat way too loudly.
Someone in the back mutters a prayer.
Alaric doesn’t even blink.
He just drags his palm up my spine, slow and hot, until his fingers are curled in the back of my hair. Not
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tugging. Just holding me there. Claiming. His other hand anchors my hip tighter against him.
He’s letting every single man here know exactly what I sit on. Exactly who I sit on. What a perverted bastard.
“Your Majesty-” One of the elder’s voice breaks, he sounds as if he swallowed a broom. “This is highly inappropriate p>
Alaric ignores him. Completely. Entirely.
Instead, he does the one thing guaranteed to make the entire room combust,
He lowers his head and kisses my neck.
Not soft. Not polite. A slow, heated drag of lips that sends a pulse of electricity down my spine. His tongue grazes the edge of my pulse point, and I swear every Elder in here gets whiplash.
My breath comes out shaky. Not pretend. This part isn’t an act.
We’re practically close to having sex and fucking like wild animals on this conference table.
His teeth graze my skin and the sound that leaves him–Goddess. It’s barely a growl, more like a low warning rumble that vibrates through my entire body.
The council reacts like he just pulled out a sword.
Chairs scrape. Someone actually steps back. One Alpha grips the table so hard it cracks. Another one drops to his knees so fast I hear his joints pop.
But Alaric’s mouth only finds the hollow beneath my ear and he speaks against my skin, voice low enough it makes something inside me go molten.
“Stay with me p>
Two words. Quiet. Not a command—an anchor. I’m slowly losing myself to the heat. Every part of me right now wants to be bent over and fucked in front of everyone.
I swallow hard, fingers curling into his shirt. “I am p>
“Good,” he murmurs.
My eyes stay open as he kisses down my neck, and I let myself smile. Just a little. Just enough for the council to see. A silent, Yeah… you see this? The King bows to me.
They lose it.
“This is manipulation p>
“A witch! She’s controlling the King p>
“She is unfit p>
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Chapter 53
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I turn my head slightly and catch the sight of Elder Bann’s face turning purple. He points at me with a trembling finger, rage flooding out of him in a spit–filled rant.
“She is a siren, Your Majesty!” Bann screeches. “She seduces you in front of your own council and you allow it
Alaric’s eyes snap to him.
Amber flames erupt in them.
Bann’s mouth snaps shut so hard his dentures probably crack.
Alaric doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to. His wolf is practically radiating off him in waves.
“Finish that sentence,” he says quietly.
Quietly. And that’s all. Three words.
Three words that suck every last breath out of everyone here.
And that’s what terrifies them.
The temperature in the chamber drops. Wolves are sensitive to hierarchy–when an Alpha King threatens violence, every instinct in the room screams kneel or die.
Elder Bann stumbles back. His legs give out and he hits the floor hard, collapsing to his knees.
One by one, the others follow him.
Alphas. Advisors. Men who once held the power to strip me of a title, a home, a life.
Now they kneel before me. Because of me. Because I am sitting on the King’s lap and he’s ready to kill for me.
Alaric brushes his lips up my neck again, claiming every inch of me. My eyes flutter closed for a split second as heat floods my stomach.
He feels it.
His grip tightens in my hair, not enough to hurt–just enough to remind me I’m not leaving this seat even if I wanted to.
He turns his head slightly and his voice brushes my ear again.
“This is nothing,” he whispers. “They haven’t even seen what happens when someone actually threatens you p>
I shiver. I can’t help it.
“They’re afraid of you,” I murmur.
“They should be p>
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Chapter 53
He lifts his head, addressing the room without bothering to push me away or compose himself.
2
“If any of you,” he says, voice calm, “ever raise your voice at my woman again–if any of you speak to her in a way I do not approve–if any of you breathe wrong in her direction p>
The nearest Elder whimpers.
Alaric smiles. It’s cold. Mocking. Cruel. The kind of smile that says he’s very ready to rearrange bones.
“-you will beg for death long before I grant it p>
A shocked silence swallows the chamber whole.
The Elders tremble.
The Alphas bow their heads lower.
No one breathes.
No one moves.
I suddenly see it from outside myself, me sitting on his lap, his hands on my hips, his lips still glistening from my skin, and the most powerful men in the continent kneeling like scared children.
I should feel guilty.
But I don’t.
Instead, something hot and dangerous blooms in my chest–a spark I’ve been too scared to acknowledge.
Power.
Not borrowed. Not stolen.
Given.
Freely.
Alaric’s thumb strokes my waist, slow and deliberate.
His voice drops just for me.
“This,” he says, “is what power looks like p>
My heart slams against my ribs. “And I’m going to give you all of it p>
A shiver races through me–part adrenaline, part disbelief, part… hunger.
Because suddenly I see it.
Really see it.
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Chapter 53
Because part of me-
the part that’s tired of being hunted, silenced, blamed-
the part that’s tired of surviving-
the part that has claws of its own-
wants all of it.
Wants the throne. Wants the fear. Wants the strength.
Wants him.
And for the first time… I don’t deny it.
I look at the kneeling council, their eyes lowered like I’m a goddess they don’t dare meet.
I exhale, slow and steady.
I lean close to Alaric’s ear, my lips brushing his skin as the room watches in terrified silence.
“Good,” I whisper. “Because I’m done letting them speak over me p>
His breath catches–only slightly. Only noticeable to me.
Then he smiles.
The room goes still.
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“Sorin, darling.” he murmurs, voice dropping to a dark promise, “I will burn kingdoms for you p>
And Goddess help me…
I believe him.
For the first time, I understand how easily power corrupts. How Ariel must’ve felt when she had even a sliver of it.
I want every bit of it.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when one of the elders, Elder Renn, I think his name was, clears hi throat.
“Y–Your Majesty,” he says, voice trembling, “with all due respect, the council still requires… ah… structure for the next quarter. Updates. Strategies p>
Of course they do.
“Sit,” he orders them.
Every single man drops like someone yanked their knees out.
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I stay exactly where I am, perched on the King’s thighs though this is my rightful seat–and maybe it is. Alaric’s thumb moves in slow circles on my hip, but his eyes sharpen, ready to go right back into business like he didn’t just try to eat me alive in front of all of them.
“Continue,” he says.
His voice thrums through his chest into my spine, and the council jolts back into motion. Scrolls rustle, papers slide, a few hands shake. No one meets my eyes. Good. They shouldn’t.
One Elder clears his throat, the sound painfully thin. “A–as we were discussing… the matter regarding the White Wolves Pack p>
That gets my attention immediately. I’ve heard of them back when I was still the Luna.
I straighten just a bit, enough that Alaric’s grip tightens in reflex. The movement drags me against him, and I feel him—still hard, still throbbing from earlier. A slow pulse that makes heat shoot up my neck.
Focus, Sorin. Goddess.
The Elders try not to look at the way I subtly adjust myself on his lap. They fail. Miserably.
Beta Cole slides forward a stack of maps, his smirk is palpable. His eyes flick to me, then away so quickly he might’ve burned himself on the sight.
This bastard.
“We’ve received reports,” he says, “that several northern packs are requesting protection from the White Wolves. Rogue attacks have increased, and winter shortages are worsening. If Alpha Vernyx sends his envoy into our capital… it could disrupt internal restructuring p>
Alaric doesn’t speak. He just breathes slow and steady behind me, giving me the space to listen. His restraint is a blade. I know exactly what it costs him to stay silent.
The advisors continue, passing maps and reports around. No one hands anything to me, obviously–they just awkwardly place the documents near Alaric’s side of the table, like if they get too close to me, they’ll combust.
I lean forward enough to reach for one. The elder who placed it there nearly drops dead.
“M–my lady, those are precious maps. You can’t play with them p>
Oh come on.
Alaric smirks behind me.
The room watches me scan the pages–border routes marked in red, White Wolves‘ patrol shifts, resource shortages, rogue sightings. It’s all basic political positioning. I used to handle this every damn week in Woodridge while Wade was off trying to be a war hero.
I track the patterns easily. Too easily.
Vernyx is making moves.
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This isn’t a simple envoy visit. He’s preparing for something bigger. Something calculated. And rejecting him would trigger assumptions we can’t control.
“They’re circling around the point,” I murmur under my breath.
Alaric hears me, of course. His fingers flex on my thigh.
The Elders finish their rambling presentation–half fearmongering, half excuses–and then sit back like they’ve delivered divine wisdom.
Silence falls.
Everyone waits for Alaric.
But Alaric is waiting for me.
His thumb strokes my waist once, silent encouragement to continue.
Fine.
I straighten, letting my legs shift just enough to feel him again–his breath stutters for a fraction of a second. The Elders collectively seize up like they heard something they shouldn’t.
“I think,” I say, my voice steady, “you should let the envoy in p>
It’s like I tossed a grenade into the room.
Several elders explode at once.
“What? Absolutely not p>
“She oversteps her position p>
“Her position is to bear the royal heir, not p>
Alaric’s growl snaps through the chamber so sharp the walls practically vibrate.
I grab his forearm–pressing, grounding him—without looking away from them. Let me talk.
“It’s not a commitment,” I continue. “It’s an opportunity p>
One advisor sputters, “Lady Sorin, you misunderstand p>
“No,” I cut in, “you misunderstand p>
A few jaws drop. Good.
I point to the maps. “If we reject him outright, Vernyx will make assumptions in the dark. And assumptions start wars. If we accept him controlled, we gain information. We set the tone. We see him before he sees us p>
One Alpha opens his mouth like he wants to correct me.
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I raise a brow.
He shuts it.
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I continue, “Escort him with loyal guards. Restrict his access to the palace. Keep him where you can watch him. You don’t give him anything–just the illusion of cooperation p>
Murmurs ripple, uncertain, shifting.
I lean back slightly, into Alaric’s chest. His breath burns against the side of my jaw, the silent I–told–you–so in the way he holds me.
“The border packs will read it as confidence, not avoidance,” I add. “And if Vernyx is planning something… this is our only chance to see it coming p>
The room shifts.
Slowly.
It’s as if they can’t admit I’m right but they know damn well I am.
Papers shuffle. Quills scrawl. Elders glance at one another with small nods. Even the stiffest advisor exhales like he just swallowed something bitter but necessary.
Consensus is forming.
Because they know I’m right.
Alaric’s voice rumbles behind my ear, low, proud, dangerous, “You heard her p>
It rolls through my spine like heat.
“Structured acceptance,” Elder Bann murmurs. “Restricted. Guarded. Limited access p>
“Yes… yes, that could work p>
“White Wolves would hesitate before escalating p>
“This grants us insight p>
All of them talking over each other now. All agreeing.
Alaric leans down, lips brushing the top of my shoulder.
His whisper is meant only for me.
“You just shifted my entire court p>
“Someone had to,” I mutter.
He chuckles–low, sinful, approving.
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The Elders finally gather the courage to look directly at me.
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And then the eldest one clears his throat and says something that knocks the breath out of my lungs:
“Since this strategy is yours, Lady Sorin… you will prepare the envoy’s welcoming protocol p>
I blink. “I–wait. What? ”
Alaric goes very still behind me.
A folder is placed directly in front of me, pushed across the table with trembling hands.
“For your review,” the elder says quickly. “His name, background… a portrait p>
My stomach knots as I open it.
Black ink on cream paper.
The seal of the White Wolves Pack.
And then-
A face.
A very handsome face.
Sharp jaw. Dark hair. Cold green eyes.
Beta Cassian Veylor.
Vernyx’s right hand.
My pulse stutters. I’ll welcome this man into the pack?
Before I can say a word-
A sound tears out of Alaric’s chest behind me.
A growl so deep the wood under us vibrates. “You are not meeting a man p>
“What? ”
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