Chapter 21 Malachar
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Malachar
I was fuming.
Not just angry. Fuming. The kind of rage that made my wolf claw at my insides, demanding to be let out. Demanding blood.
Amaia had insulted my mate. Called her a whore in front of half the noble families in the castle. And I had not been there to stop it. Had not been there to put that woman in her place the way she deserved.
The only thing stopping me from storming into that dining room and making a scene that would give the council even more ammunition was my mother.
She had found me in the corridor outside the dining room and grabbed my arm before I could do something spectacularly stupid. Her grip was iron despite her smaller size.
“Malachar. Breathe.” Her voice had been firm with that commanding tone only mothers could master. “Going in there with your eyes glowing red will not help Wen. You need to be calm. You need to think.”
“She called her a whore,” I had growled. My hands were already sprouting claws. My vision was tinged red at the edges.
“I know. I just heard what happened from Lady Thorne. And from what she told me, Wen handled it beautifully. Threw water directly in Amaia’s face and soaked her completely.
” Mother’s lips had twitched with amusement despite the gravity of the situation.
“That girl has fire. I like her more every day. But now the council will be involved. You need to be the king, not the mate. Can you do that?”
I had forced myself to breathe. To push down the rage enough to think with some semblance of clarity. “Yes.”
“Good. Now go find your mate. Make sure she is safe. Reassure her. Then prepare yourself for the council meeting that is inevitable. Because Amaia will push for punishment, and Andreas’s supporters will use this as an opportunity to undermine you.”
So I had reached out through the bond. Found Wen’s presence in my mind, that golden thread that connected us. Sent my thoughts to her even though it took effort that made my temples throb with the strain.
Training room three.
I had gone to her. Had held her. Had tried to gauge exactly how furious she was with me this time.
Very furious, as expected. But not as much as those first few days after I had dragged her through the portal. Not as much as when she had refused to even look at me. That was progress. Small progress, microscopic even, but I would take what I could get.
Things had been looking promising. Training together, touching her under the guise of correcting her form. The way she had moved, the way she had looked at me when she ended up straddling me on the mat with our faces inches apart.
That kiss.
Gods, that kiss. A week without touching her properly had been absolute torture.
Feeling her grind against me, hearing that small moan escape into my mouth, had nearly broken my control completely.
I had been seconds away from tearing our clothes off and taking her right there on the training mat regardless of where we were.
Then Aurion had interrupted with news of the council meeting and Amaia’s complaint, shattering the moment and dragging us back into the political nightmare I had been dreading.
Now I was standing in the middle of the council chamber, surrounded by nobles who all had opinions they felt the desperate need to scream at maximum volume. As if volume made them more correct. As if shouting would change reality.
“The human must be punished!”
“She assaulted a lady of the court!”
“This is unacceptable behavior from a servant!”
“The king shows inappropriate favoritism!”
“She should be imprisoned at minimum!”
“Banished back through the portal!”
It was a complete fucking nightmare.
Amaia sat in one of the chairs reserved for noble witnesses.
Her hair was down now instead of elaborately styled.
The water had ruined whatever complicated arrangement her maids had constructed.
She wore a simple gown instead of the ornate dress from dinner.
She must have been forced to change. To wash the water from her hair and skin and admit that my mate had utterly humiliated her.
I smirked despite my rage. Good. She deserved every bit of that humiliation.
“Silence!” I let my voice carry through the room. Let a hint of alpha command bleed into it, that tone that made wolves instinctively want to submit. “All of you will calm down or I will clear this chamber and make decisions without your input.”
The shouting died to murmurs as everyone turned to look at me. Some with respect, some with thinly veiled contempt. The Andreas sympathizers stood together near the back, whispering amongst themselves with smug expressions that made my wolf snarl.
One of the council members stepped forward.
Lord Corvei. Old, powerful, and usually neutral in political matters.
“Your Majesty. The council has convened to discuss the incident at dinner. Lady Amaia has made a formal complaint against the human girl. She demands punishment for assault on her person.”
“The human girl was defending herself against verbal assault,” I said coldly. “Lady Amaia called her a whore in front of witnesses. Multiple witnesses. My guest reacted appropriately to being insulted.”
“Your guest?” Corvei’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Some say she is more than a guest. That she occupies your chambers. That she comes and goes with unusual freedom for a human servant.”
“She is under my protection,” I said carefully. “That makes insults against her insults against me and my judgment.”
“Protection seems an interesting word choice.” One of the Andreas supporters spoke up. Lord Darius - smug, ambitious, a snake wearing expensive clothing. “Why would a human require your personal protection? Unless there is more to this relationship than you have admitted to this council.”
“That is none of your concern.”
“It is very much our concern if the king is making decisions based on personal attachments rather than the good of the kingdom.” Darius smiled in a way that did not reach his eyes.
“Perhaps we should hear from the human herself. Let her explain why she felt entitled to assault a noble lady. Let us judge her character.”
“That is not necessary-”
“I think it is entirely necessary.” Darius turned to the guards stationed at the door. “Bring her here. Now. Let us hear what this human has to say for herself.”
“You have no authority to give that order,” I snarled. My control was slipping. My hands wanted to shift to claws.
“The council has the authority to call witnesses in matters of court justice.” Corvei’s voice was apologetic but firm. “If Lady Amaia is here to testify about the assault, the accused should have the opportunity to defend herself. That is only fair, Your Majesty.”
I wanted to argue. Wanted to refuse outright. But Corvei was right about the law. We had procedures for these things. And showing obvious favoritism to Wen without explanation would only make things worse. Would give Andreas more ammunition.
“Fine. But she will be escorted respectfully. Not dragged like a criminal. She is a guest in this castle.”
Darius nodded to the guards with a smile that made me want to rip his throat out. “You heard the king. Bring the human. Respectfully, of course.”
The guards left. I stood there, tension coiling tighter in my shoulders with each passing second, while we waited in uncomfortable silence.
It took less than five minutes. The doors opened and my mate was being dragged in by two guards who had their hands gripped around her arms. Dragged. Despite my explicit orders about respect.
My wolf roared inside me so loudly I almost could not hear anything else. My eyes flashed red without my permission. My voice came out as a growl that made the windows rattle in their frames and several candles gutter. “What the actual fuck is the meaning of this?”
Several nobles cowered and stepped back. Others stared at me with expressions that ranged from surprise to fear to calculation. The Andreas supporters looked pleased - I was losing control in front of the council. Exactly what they wanted.
The guards holding Wen looked panicked when they saw my expression. They released her arms immediately and started to stammer apologies that I could barely hear over the roaring in my ears.
Then I saw Captain Torin enter behind them. One of my most trusted guards, loyal since before I took the throne. His expression was grim as he approached and gave a slight bow.
“Your Majesty.” His voice was quiet and respectful.
“There were too many guards sent to retrieve her. My men tried to stop them but we were outnumbered and they had orders from the council. The lady walked willingly rather than cause a scene or provoke violence. We followed to ensure her safety. I swear on my honor that nothing happened to her. She was not harmed.”
I was barely controlling myself. Barely holding back the shift that would turn me into a creature of fur and fangs. My hands had started to sprout claws before I forced them back with enormous effort. My teeth felt too sharp in my mouth. My vision was tinted red.
Aurion stepped closer to me. His own expression was calculating as he assessed the room with tactical precision, reading the nobles, analyzing the power dynamics, identifying the trap that was being laid.
“Punish her!” Amaia shrieked from her chair with theatrical outrage. “Look at her! She shows no remorse! No respect! She should be imprisoned for what she did to me! She should be whipped!”
But I was not looking at Amaia. I was looking at Wen.
She was flushed. Her cheeks were bright red. She kept shifting from one foot to the other in a way that suggested discomfort. Her breathing was slightly elevated. Her pupils were dilated. She looked... wrong. Not like herself.
Something was very wrong.
“Is everything okay?” I sent the thought through the bond carefully, trying not to alarm her but needing to know.
She jumped slightly when my voice entered her mind. Her eyes found mine across the room. They were slightly glazed and unfocused in a way that made my wolf whine with concern.
“I feel... weird,” she sent back. Each word came individually and spaced out as if it was taking enormous effort to form coherent thoughts.
I frowned. What did she mean by weird? Was she ill? Injured? Had those guards done something despite Torin’s assurance? I would kill them all if they had touched her inappropriately.
“She should be hanged for this offense!” One of the councilmen snarled. Lord Matthias, another Andreas sympathizer with delusions of importance. “Make an example of her! Show that humans cannot assault their betters without consequence! Show that you are strong!”
“I dare you,” I growled. My wolf was too close to the surface. My control was slipping by the second. “I dare you to fucking try.”
“Why would you let this go unpunished?” Matthias demanded. His face was red with outrage. “She assaulted a noble lady! In front of dozens of witnesses! If you do not enforce consequences, you show weakness! You prove that Andreas was right about you!”
That was when I scented it.
Sweet and delicious and intoxicating beyond anything I had ever smelled. The scent hit me like a physical blow that made my wolf howl with desperate need, made every instinct I possessed scream at me to claim her, protect her, get her away from this room full of unmated males immediately.
The scent was coming from Wen.
Oh gods. Oh fuck.
My wolf went completely insane, throwing itself against my control with violence that made my bones ache. It was screaming at me to shift, to take our mate away from this room full of unmated males who could also scent her now, who were starting to notice the change in the air.
I knew what this meant. Had known it was coming eventually. Had hoped desperately that we would have more time before it happened. Time to prepare, to secure her somewhere safe, to warn her properly about what was coming.
She was entering her heat. Her first heat. The strongest one. The one that would drive every unmated male within scenting distance absolutely mad with need.
I made a decision. The only decision that mattered anymore.
Politics could go to hell. The council could go to hell. Andreas and all his supporters could go straight to hell. My mate needed me and needed protection, and I would give it to her regardless of the consequences.
“Because the human outranks everyone in this room except me,” I growled.
Let my eyes stay red and glowing. Let my alpha power fill the chamber until the air felt thick and several weaker wolves whimpered.
“Gwendolyn Woods is my fated mate. She will not be punished for defending herself against insult. And if you-” I turned my glowing eyes on Amaia.
“If you ever speak to her again in that manner, woman, you will not see the light of day again. You will regret the day you decided to speak ill of my mate. The same goes for every fucking person in this room. Do I make myself clear?”
Complete shocked silence descended on the chamber.
Amaia’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. Her face had gone pale.
“I want everyone out of this room. NOW.” The last word came out as a roar that made several nobles stumble backward. “GET THE FUCK OUT!”
Everyone scrambled. Nobles rushed for the doors in a panicked mass. Council members fled without dignity. Even Corvei, who had witnessed countless conflicts in his long life, moved with unusual haste toward the exit.
I stalked toward Wen. Several males had paused near her. Were scenting the air. Their pupils were starting to dilate. Their wolves responding to the unmated female in heat despite their better judgment.
I growled and physically shoved one of them. Hard enough to send him stumbling into the wall. “OUT! NOW!”
That got them moving with renewed urgency. The room cleared in seconds. The massive doors slammed behind the last fleeing noble with a resounding boom.
Silence. Finally. Blessed silence except for our breathing.
I reached Wen and buried my face in her neck. Breathed in her scent despite knowing it would make my control even more tenuous. Let it fill my lungs even as it drove me half-mad with need and the desperate urge to claim her properly.
“Mal?” Her voice was breathless and confused. “What’s going on? Why do I feel so... everything feels wrong. Too hot. Too much.”
“You are in heat, little mate,” I growled against her skin. “Your first heat. And every unmated male in this castle is going to be able to scent it within the hour.”