Chapter 9 Faith
NINE
FAITH
Faith stumbled through the palace corridors on unsteady legs.
The elegant black cocktail dress that had made her feel so confident hours earlier now clung to her trembling frame like a mockery.
Every step carried her further from the kitchens, further from the violence she had just witnessed, but she couldn’t escape the images seared into her mind.
White fur streaked with black stripes. Massive paws pinning a smaller form. The sound of claws against stone. The raw, primal growl that had rumbled from Kovrak’s throat—not human, not civilized, but utterly wild.
Her breath came in short bursts as she pressed herself against the cool stone wall, needing its solid reality to ground her spinning thoughts.
The scent of violence and fear still clung to her clothes, her skin, her very soul.
But what lingered stronger was the image of transformation—Kovrak the handsome prince dissolving into something magnificent and terrifying.
Call Gerri, her mind whispered frantically. Demand to leave. Right now. Before this gets any more complicated.
She had known, intellectually, that Kovrak was a shifter. Known he was dangerous. Known this entire kingdom operated on rules she barely understood. But knowing and seeing were entirely different beasts—quite literally.
It wasn’t just that he had fought. It was the power of it. The dominance that radiated from every movement and every calculated strike. He had been wild yet controlled, an apex predator defending his territory with lethal precision.
“What did you think would happen?” she whispered to herself, her voice echoing in the empty corridor. “That you’d never see him shift? Never witness what he really is?”
The truth hit her like a freight train. Being his mate—if she chose that path—wouldn’t always mean quiet mornings baking side by side, flour dusting their hands while they laughed over shared tasks.
It would mean shifter politics and ancient traditions.
Enemies who would strike without warning.
Public scrutiny that could crush her. Violence when necessary to protect what mattered.
A crown. A predator mate.
Her chest tightened until breathing became a conscious effort.
She had started to imagine a future with him this afternoon—tentative, fragile hopes blooming as they worked together in perfect harmony.
But she hadn’t imagined that part clearly enough.
Hadn’t pictured what loving a white tiger prince would actually cost her.
“I came here to bake,” she said aloud, the words bouncing off the stone walls. “To save my bakery. To maybe have a little fun with a handsome prince for one week. Not to... not to become bound to someone who could tear a man apart with his sharp teeth.”
But even as the words left her lips, another truth surfaced.
When Varrek had insinuated she was responsible for Merral’s collapse, when doubt had rippled through the crowd like poison, Kovrak hadn’t hesitated.
He had stood up for her immediately, taken responsibility, declared his trust in her before an entire hall of his people.
He had defended her without question.
“And yet,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “to love him would mean standing beside a powerful white tiger king.”
The weight of that reality settled over her shoulders like a lead cloak. Her life would never be small or private again. She would be watched, judged, measured against standards she didn’t understand by people whose approval she may never earn.
Was she built for that kind of existence? The girl from New Jersey who had fought tooth and nail just to keep her little bakery afloat?
No, her practical mind insisted. Of course you’re not. You’re human. You don’t belong in this world of shifters and politics and royal bloodlines.
But her heart... her traitorous heart whispered something different entirely.
She felt something for him. Deep in her soul, in places she had never allowed anyone to touch before. Walking away now would hurt in ways she wasn’t prepared to examine too closely.
Yet staying might cost her everything she had worked for.
Her thoughts spiraled until she forced herself to stop, pressing her palms against the wall for stability. “No,” she said firmly. “You cannot unravel in hallways. You chose to stay for the week. Buck up and handle it.”
But then another image filled her mind—Merral’s face contorting in agony, foam at the corners of his mouth, his body convulsing as his throat closed. The memory hit her like a punch, sharp and awful in its clarity.
Even if the sabotage wasn’t her fault—even if she knew with absolute certainty that she would never deliberately harm anyone—she felt connected to it.
Responsible somehow. If she hadn’t baked those desserts.
If she hadn’t come here at all. If she had just stayed in New Jersey and let her bakery fail quietly. ..
Merral wouldn’t have been in danger. He wouldn’t have almost died tonight.
The guilt twisted in her stomach like a living thing, and she knew she couldn’t just hide in her suite and pretend none of this had happened.
Straightening her spine, Faith spotted a young servant girl hurrying past with fresh linens. She cleared her throat, proud when her voice emerged steady and controlled.
“Excuse me. I need to see Lord Merral. Please.”
The servant’s eyes widened slightly. “My lady, he’s in the medical wing. Are you certain—“
“I’m certain.” Faith’s tone brooked no argument. “Please show me the way.”
If she couldn’t solve the politics or the mate thing tonight, couldn’t untangle the mess of emotions and expectations that had wrapped around her like chains, she could at least make sure someone was safe. She could at least try to make amends for the chaos that had followed in her wake.
The servant nodded and gestured for Faith to follow, leading her deeper into the palace toward whatever awaited.
The servant’s soft footsteps echoed through corridors that seemed to stretch endlessly before finally stopping at heavy wooden doors.
Faith’s pulse hammered as the girl pushed them open, revealing a chamber suffused with the gentle aroma of medicinal herbs and the crisp scent of freshly laundered linens.
Merral sat propped against a mountain of pillows, his weathered face pinched with the particular irritation of a man unaccustomed to confinement.
The pallor that had terrified her earlier had given way to healthy color, and his breathing moved steadily, free of the foam and panic that had nearly claimed him.
Relief crashed through her so violently her knees threatened to buckle.
“You look far better,” she managed.
He snorted. “I look imprisoned.”
Despite everything—the fear, the guilt, the chaos of the evening—laughter bubbled up. “Well, hopefully they will let you leave soon. I’m so sorry for the trouble I caused—“
“Stop.” His voice cut through her apology with gentle authority. “You saved me.”
Faith blinked, confusion clouding her thoughts. “I don’t understand.”
“You recognized the allergic reaction immediately. Named it. Shouted it.” His eyes held hers steadily. “That clarity shaved precious seconds off the response time. If you hadn’t spoken up, the healers might not have understood the urgency.”
The guilt that had been eating at her insides shifted, morphing into something less sharp but no less complex. She had helped, yes, but her presence had also created the opportunity for the attack in the first place.
Merral’s voice dropped to a more intimate register. “You need to understand something about this kingdom. These last twenty years have not been peaceful.”
Faith settled into the chair beside his bed, sensing the weight of what he was about to share.
“Kovrak’s lack of a mate has caused unrest. Doubt.
Opportunists have been circling like vultures, especially after last year’s public display when he refused to bring anyone to the festival.
” His lined face grew grim. “Power without a clear direction invites teeth. I just happened to be the first victim of it.”
Her stomach clenched as the implications hit her. “Someone tried to kill you to get to him.”
“To discredit you, more precisely. To make it appear that his choice of mate was dangerous to the pride.” Merral’s weathered hands smoothed the coverlet with methodical precision. “They wanted to drive you away.”
“I’ll admit, I’m overwhelmed by all of this. This alien shifter world and its politics and its powerful creatures,” she confessed. “And I didn’t understand what choosing Kovrak would truly mean.”
He studied her face intently, holding space for her to share her feelings.
“It isn’t just kitchens and quiet dinners,” she continued, her voice growing stronger. “It’s strategy and optics. Enemies. People potentially getting hurt because of me.”
“I have watched my nephew for two decades looking lost and defeated. I have never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. The hope in his eyes has returned.”
Her breath caught in her chest, a flutter of something dangerous and warm.
“And I see the way you look at him,” he finished with a knowing smile.
Heat flooded her cheeks. She had thought she was being subtle, professional. Apparently, her attraction to Kovrak was as obvious as a neon sign.
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this place,” she whispered. “Or for him.”
Merral’s expression softened. “But you’re still here.”
The simple observation hit her like a revelation.
“You did not run when you easily could have. You came to check on me. You faced accusation with composure at the feast. You’ve adapted. You’ve learned. You stand even when afraid.” His smile grew warmer. “That is queen energy, whether you claim it or not.”
Her throat tightened unexpectedly. The praise felt like a benediction, filling spaces in her heart she hadn’t realized were empty. She had never known her father, and this was the closest thing to paternal approval she had ever experienced.
“The people may come around. Or they may not. Politics shifts like sand,” he added gently. “What matters is what grows between the two of you. That is the true foundation.”
The door opened with a soft whisper of hinges. Faith turned to see Kovrak filling the doorway—broad shoulders, controlled expression, those pale blue eyes immediately scanning her for signs of distress or fear. When he noticed her attentiveness to his uncle, something in his posture eased.
He stepped closer, and Faith felt that familiar pull, that magnetic awareness that made her skin hum.
Merral watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction. “You have checked on an old man enough,” he declared with dry humor. “I recommend fresh air. The moons are bright tonight.”
The subtle blessing hung between them like a gift.
Faith rose slowly, her heart hammering as Kovrak offered his hand. She took it without hesitation, and the simple contact seemed to steady them both.
He led her through corridors bathed in silver light, past windows that revealed twin moons against the star-scattered sky. The palace gardens soon spread before them, washed in luminous moonlight that transformed familiar paths into something magical.
The two moons hung overhead—one full and radiant, the other thinner but steady in its distant orbit. They walked in comfortable silence at first, the cool air carrying the perfume of night-blooming flowers that had no Earth equivalent.
“I thought you might leave for good tonight,” he said finally, his voice honest and unaccusing.
“I considered it briefly,” she admitted, surprised by her own candor. She stopped walking and turned to face him fully. “I didn’t fully understand what being your mate would mean. The tiger. The crown. The weight of it all.”
He didn’t deny any of it, didn’t try to minimize the reality she would be stepping into. “I know it’s a lot.”
Her pulse thrummed—not with fear this time, but with a deeper awareness of what stood between them. She stepped closer, close enough to see the way moonlight caught in his pale eyes.
“This is frightening,” she admitted. “But so is walking away from you.”
Silence stretched between them, charged with possibility and choice.
Then she rose onto her toes and kissed him.
Soft at first, tentative, under twin moons and open sky. No walls. No politics. No witnesses. Just the beginning of something neither of them could deny anymore.
The kiss quickly turned more intense as every suppressed feeling rushed to the surface. She gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, getting completely lost in the taste of him, the solid warmth of his body, and the way he responded to her touch with barely leashed hunger.
Faith knew there was no going back from this moment.