Chapter 22 #2
Zari’s expression is a combination of fear and obstinance. “The witch is lying. He’ll say anything to save his own skin.”
Lord Vance steps forward, his face flushed with righteous indignation. “Your Majesty, this traitor cannot possibly be the Crown Prince’s fated mate. Your son is clearly confused, bewitched by whatever dark arts she possesses.”
A new voice cuts through the tension, that of Lord Aldric of the Umbra Council. “Even if the girl is indeed a latent shifter, she still defied the crown. Her actions cannot go unpunished.”
Murmurs of agreement ripple through the assembled nobles. I feel the political tide shifting, these vultures circling for advantage.
Aldric continues, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “Such defiance sets a dangerous precedent. If we allow one subject to ignore royal decrees without consequence, what message does that send to the rest of the kingdom?”
More nods. More whispered agreements. I watch Aldric’s eyes as they fix on Astra, and I see something in them that makes my blood run cold—a calculating gleam, like a predator sizing up prey.
“Perhaps,” Aldric suggests smoothly, “it would be best to hand the girl over to the Council for proper judgment. We can determine the appropriate punishment for her crimes.”
The suggestion sends ice through my veins. I’ve been watching Aldric throughout this entire proceeding because there is something in the way his eyes keep drifting to Astra—too much interest, too much focus. Whatever he wants with her, it has nothing to do with justice.
“Furthermore,” Aldric adds, his tone growing more confident, “even if this woman is the Prince’s fated mate, only one of them bears the mating mark.
The bond is incomplete.” He turns to address the assembled nobles.
“Even if fate has chosen her, the kingdom will not accept someone like her as crown princess. A traitor. A nobody from the outer territories.”
Lord Vance seizes the opening. “My daughter is far better suited for the role. She has breeding, class, political connections. If the Prince is determined to keep this woman,” Vance says disdainfully, gesturing toward Astra, “perhaps she could serve as a concubine. Someone he can...visit when the mood strikes him. My daughter would be understanding of such arrangements.”
Astra flinches beside me, and something inside me snaps. “A concubine?!”
The throne room falls silent at my tone.
“You want to know what this woman has accomplished?” I step forward, my voice echoing throughout the vast space. “Astra is a genius herbalist. She has developed a way to neutralize wolfsbane poisoning—something no healer in this kingdom has ever managed.”
Lord Vance scoffs. “The Prince is clearly—”
I cut him off sharply. “She saved my life. This woman healed me when I was dying. She has also discovered a cure for nightshade poisoning. Tell me, Lord Vance, what has your daughter accomplished besides sharing your bloodline?”
His face flushes red. “My daughter has breeding and class—”
“Your daughter,” I say coldly, “is not worthy of polishing my mate’s shoes.”
Vance’s eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. “The Prince is mistaken! Zari has everything needed to be a proper crown princess—”
I take another step forward, and my voice drops lower.
“Let me make something very clear to everyone in this room,” I say, but I’m staring at Lord Vance.
“If any family is foolish enough to put forward their daughter as a candidate for crown princess, I will personally return that daughter’s head to her family.
And if that family dares to protest, I will wipe their entire bloodline from existence. ”
The threat hangs in the air like smoke. Several nobles step away from Vance, as if they don’t want to get caught in any blowback from his actions.
My father sighs heavily from his throne. “Lord Vance, the engagement between Prince Lucian and your daughter is officially dissolved.”
“Your Majesty!” Vance and Zari cry out in unison.
I smile menacingly at them. “You touched my mate. You kidnapped her. You tortured her.” My voice grows colder with each word. “For those crimes, I am ending all business dealings between the crown and your family. Every contract, every trade agreement, every political alliance.”
Whatever is left of Zari’s composure finally shatters. “You can’t do this! I am your betrothed! You belong to me!”
“I belong to no one,” I say softly. “But Astra belongs to me. And I will burn this entire kingdom to ash before I let anyone harm her again.”
The promise resonates through the throne room, and in the silence that follows, I hear the rapid beating of hearts, the sharp intake of frightened breaths.
They understand now. They understand exactly what they’re dealing with.
The Mad Wolf has come home.
My father’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade. “Everyone out. Now.”
The nobles scramble for the exits, their whispered exchanges and shocked murmurs fading as the massive doors close behind them. Soon, only three figures remain: my father on his black throne, myself, and Astra standing beside me.
The King’s expression is one of pure annoyance. “You’ve cost me an advisor,” he tells me.
“I cannot tolerate Zari,” I say flatly. “I won’t have her poisoning your ear with lies about my mate.” I look at her. “Astra is the only one I want,” I continue, my voice growing fiercer. “And I meant every word I said. I will burn the Wolf Kingdom to the ground before I let anyone hurt her.”
My father leans back in his throne, studying me with those cold eyes. “She’s a latent shifter.”
“We’ll discuss that later,” I reply. “Latent or not, she is mine.”
He looks at us, his gaze heavy with unspoken challenges and the weight of everything that has just transpired.
Finally, my father waves his hand dismissively. “Get out of my sight.”
Without another word, I lift Astra into my arms. She is lighter than she should be, weakened by torture and blood loss. As I carry her away, I feel her head rest against my shoulder, and through our bond, I sense her exhaustion and relief.
The throne room doors close behind us with a resounding thud, sealing away the politics and schemes and leaving just the two of us in the corridor beyond.
I stare down at Astra’s sleeping face, noticing the way her dark lashes fan across her pale cheeks.
It’s been half a day since the confrontation in the throne room, and the royal healer has done everything possible—healing the whip marks, treating her other injuries, ensuring her body is whole again. But she remains unconscious.
“It’s the shock of it all, Your Highness,” the healer had explained before he left. “Her body is healed, but her mind needs time to process the trauma.”
Guilt gnaws at me like it’s a living thing.
My mate probably feels completely betrayed by my deception—finding out I’m the crown prince in front of the entire court, learning that I’ve been lying to her about my identity this whole time.
The woman who saved my life, who trusted me enough to share my bed, discovered my true identity while being tortured for crimes she didn’t commit.
I lean forward and press a gentle kiss on her forehead. My fingers drift to my neck, touching the unmarked skin there. I want her bite, the mating mark from her end that would complete our bond. But if she truly is a latent wolf, her bite won’t carry the power needed to mark me.
Except, I have my suspicions.
I’ve already consulted with the royal witch about Astra’s condition. He was able to detect magic on her—old magic, deeply embedded—but he can’t determine if it’s suppressing her wolf or serving some other purpose. The magical signature is too complex, too ancient for him to unravel.
But I know something is different about her. During our nights together, in the heat of passion, she clawed me, causing deep scratches. They healed within hours, but the strength behind them, the instinctive nature of the action—that wasn’t human. That was wolf.
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. Seth enters, his expression grim.
“Your father wants to see you. Now.”
I look down at Astra one more time, then stand. “Guard this room. No one gets in except the healer.”
Seth nods. “Of course.”
As I head out the door, I catch sight of Leon in the hallway and flag him down. “I need you to do something for me,” I tell him quietly. “Dig into Astra’s past. Her family, her childhood, anything you can find. There’s more to her story than we know.”
Leon’s eyes sharpen with interest. “I’ll start immediately, Your Highness.”
I stride toward my father’s private study, my mind racing. Whatever he wants to discuss, I doubt it’s going to be pleasant. But Astra is safe now, healing in my chambers, and that’s all that matters.
The King is waiting for me, standing by the tall windows that overlook the palace grounds. He doesn’t turn when I enter, but he does speak.
“The Umbra Council is insisting on investigating the matter of your mate breaking the royal decree. They want to take her into custody.”
I try to contain the fury rising inside me. “This has nothing to do with them. Why are they getting involved?”
My father turns to face me, his expression weary. “I don’t know their true motives, but I understand their reasoning. Even if she was being manipulated, Astra still played a part in defying the order. The Council argues that it sets a dangerous precedent.”
“What precedent?” I snap. “That people can be manipulated by corrupt alphas and ambitious nobles?”
“That subjects can ignore royal commands without consequence,” he replies sharply. “Whether she was the most powerful female or not, she still fled instead of presenting herself as ordered.”
“She wasn’t told to ‘present herself,’” I counter sharply, clenching my fists at my sides. “Gareth told her she was being sent to die. She fled to save her life.”
“She chose to run rather than place her trust in royal justice.”
“Royal justice?” I laugh bitterly. “She would have been executed if I hadn’t intervened.”
My father’s eyes narrow. “You think I would have killed an innocent woman?”
“You almost did! You trusted the word of an alpha over that of a powerless, latent shifter,” I say bluntly. “A conspiracy unfolded right in front of you—Zari and Gareth convinced you to put her to death based on lies.”
I pause, thinking about the years of unspoken tensions between my father and me, about duty versus compassion, crown versus conscience.
“I won’t give up my mate,” I finally say, my voice low and calm. “I meant what I said in the throne room.”
“I’m not asking you to give her up,” he says irritably, moving to pour himself a glass of wine from the crystal decanter on his desk.
“But if she truly is a latent shifter, that presents a problem. We’re already dealing with divisions within the Umbra Council.
This situation will only give them more ammunition to challenge the crown’s authority. ”
I step closer to him. “If you would just let me investigate High Inquisitor Draven, we could accumulate evidence against him and his supporters.”
My father’s expression darkens. “Aldric has been pushing for expanded Council powers for months. Specifically, the right to investigate and prosecute crimes against the crown without royal oversight. He is Draven’s closest ally in this.”
A chill runs down my spine. That would essentially give the Council the power to act as judge, jury, and executioner for anyone they deem a threat.
“They see your mate as the perfect test case,” my father continues. “A clear violation of royal decree with obvious political implications. If they can force the crown to hand her over, it sets a precedent for future Council authority.”
“Over my dead body.”
“That may be what it comes to,” he says grimly. “Aldric has significant support among the noble houses. If this escalates into a full political crisis...”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I understand. Civil conflict. Possibly even war.
“I’m convinced Astra is not latent,” I say firmly. “I’m looking into her past. There has to be something there that even she isn’t aware of.”
My father sets down his wine glass and studies me carefully. “What makes you so certain?”
I hesitate, then decide on honesty. “The royal witch detected old magic on her. And during our...intimate moments, she has shown signs of wolf behavior that a true latent shifter wouldn’t display. Something has been suppressing her wolf. I’m sure of it.”
My father goes quiet for a long moment, studying me with those pale eyes. Then, he asks, “Is it true that she saved you from wolfsbane poisoning?”
“She did,” I reply without hesitation. “Created an antidote from scratch using nothing but forest herbs. The royal healers have said it’s impossible, but she did it.”
“And the nightshade cure you mentioned?”
“Another of her innovations. She has developed treatments for poisons that have killed countless shifters over the centuries.”
My father sits down in his chair, considering this information. “That level of knowledge...It’s not something a simple pack herbalist would possess.”
“Exactly. Which is why I think there’s more to her background than anyone knows.”
“An excellent herbalist,” he muses. “Groundbreaking. Capable of curing supposedly incurable afflictions.” He picks up his wine glass again. “Her knowledge could indeed be a tremendous asset to the kingdom.”
A “harrumph” escapes him, but I catch the flicker of genuine interest in his expression. He doesn’t look displeased.
“Find out who she really is,” he commands. “If she is not what she appears to be, that changes everything. But until then...” His expression hardens. “Keep her close. The Council will make their move soon, and when they do, you’ll need to be ready.”
I nod and turn to leave, and as I reach the door, I make up my mind about something else.
Aldric’s interest in Astra had been too intense, too personal.
The way his eyes lingered on her during the trial, the eagerness in his voice when he suggested handing her over to the Council—it wasn’t just about upholding the law.
I’m going to investigate him. Whatever his true motives are, whatever he wants with my mate, I’ll uncover it. And I’ll protect Astra from him and anyone else who thinks they can use her for their own agenda.
The Council may be making their move soon, but so am I.