CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
AUbrEY
My palms are slick with nervous sweat as we approach the towering double doors at the far end of the council hall.
The polished wood gleams under the afternoon sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, and I can hear the low murmur of authoritative voices beyond the barrier.
My heart hammers against my ribs with a rhythm that feels loud enough for everyone to hear.
Deep breaths, I remind myself, smoothing down the sapphire silk of my gown one final time. You're supposed to be their future Luna Queen, not some terrified girl.
But the weight of what I'm about to do—walking into the inner sanctum of the kingdom's power structure while harboring plans to tear it all down—makes my stomach churn with acid.
Every step toward those doors feels like walking deeper into enemy territory, even as Knox's protective presence beside me provides unwanted comfort.
The doors swing open with barely a whisper, revealing a scene that makes my breath catch in my throat.
Three elderly men sit elevated on an ornate platform at the room's head, their weathered faces carved with the kind of authority that comes from decades of wielding power.
Their formal robes speak of ancient tradition, of ceremonies and decisions that shape entire kingdoms.
Flanked around the raised dais are the pack leaders—imposing figures whose very presence radiates dominance and strength.
Most are men, broad-shouldered and scarred from battles fought and won, but I catch sight of two women among them whose sharp eyes seem to catalog my every movement.
The intimidating atmosphere presses down on me like a physical weight, making me unconsciously drift closer to Knox.
His warmth becomes my anchor in this sea of calculating gazes.
Without breaking stride, he reaches back and clasps my hand firmly, his fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture of unshakeable support.
The contact sends that familiar spark racing up my arm, and I hate how much I need his steady presence right now.
"Look at them," Aria purrs with satisfaction, her voice cutting through my anxiety. "They're already impressed. You belong here."
"I don't belong anywhere near here," I shoot back, but her confidence bleeds into my own resolve. Whatever my true purpose, I need to play this role convincingly.
Knox's voice carries across the chamber with practiced authority as he draws us to a halt before the assembled council. "Honored elders, esteemed pack leaders, I present Lady Aubrey Lancelot, daughter of the late Alpha and Luna Lancelot of the Haven Pack, and my chosen mate."
The formal introduction hangs in the air like a challenge. I feel every gaze in the room weighing me, measuring my worth, calculating my value to their political structure. But it's the voice that cuts through the respectful silence that makes my spine stiffen with indignation.
"How surprising that our Prince Knox has finally found a mate," one of the elderly ministers comments, his tone dripping with barely concealed mockery. "We were beginning to wonder if such a thing was even possible."
The insult hangs in the air like poison, designed to diminish both Knox and me in front of the entire council. My jaw clenches with fury at the casual disrespect, but Knox's reaction surprises me. Instead of rising to the bait or defending himself, he simply ignores the jab entirely.
"Indeed, it is a blessed match," Knox replies with unshakeable composure, his voice carrying across the chamber with quiet authority. Then, still holding my gaze, he brings my hand to his lips.
The kiss is soft, reverent, yet performed with such deliberate intimacy that it feels like a claiming in front of everyone who matters.
His green eyes never leave mine as his mouth presses against my knuckles, and in that moment, the entire council chamber fades away.
The intensity of his gaze makes me feel like I'm the most precious thing in his world, like I'm worth defending against any slight or challenge.
Heat floods my cheeks at the possessive display, my pulse quickening despite every rational thought screaming that I shouldn't be affected by this. But the way Knox looks at me—like I'm a treasure he'll protect with his life—does something dangerous to my carefully constructed defenses.
This is just political theater, I remind myself desperately. He's establishing dominance, showing the council that his mate is to be respected.
But my traitorous heart doesn't care about political strategy when Knox's lips linger against my skin just a heartbeat longer than necessary.
"A bond is a bond," Aria declares with smug satisfaction. "No amount of denial changes what the Moon Goddess has decreed."
I shove her voice to the back of my mind, refusing to acknowledge the truth in her words. This attraction, this pull I feel toward Knox—it's just biology. The mate bond designed to override common sense and logic. It doesn't change what his father did to my family.
"Please, take your seats," one of the elders directs, his tone markedly more respectful now that Knox has so clearly claimed me before the assembled leadership.
I expect Knox to guide me toward one of the chairs designated for visiting nobles, somewhere appropriately secondary to his own position. Instead, he stops at the main table where Noah already sits, his hand firm on my lower back as he indicates the chair between himself and his advisor.
"But that's—" I start to protest, recognizing that the seat he's offering is reserved for full council members, not mere observers.
"Where my mate belongs," Knox finishes firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "You're not a guest here, Aubrey. You're the future Luna Queen. Your voice matters in these discussions."
The declaration sends another wave of heat through my chest, this time tinged with guilt rather than pleasure.
He's including me in the kingdom's highest levels of decision-making, trusting me with access to information that could reshape the balance of power.
It's exactly what Jax needs me to accomplish.
So why does Knox's faith in me feel like a knife between my ribs?
I settle into the offered chair, hyperaware of how the expensive silk of my gown rustles against the leather upholstery. Noah offers me a warm smile of welcome that I return.
As the formal proceedings begin, I find it nearly impossible to concentrate on the discussions swirling around me.
Trade agreements, territorial disputes, resource allocation—all topics that should fascinate someone planning to infiltrate the kingdom's power structure.
Instead, my mind keeps drifting to the man beside me, to the way his presence seems to fill every corner of my awareness.
Knox participates in the debates with natural authority, his insights sharp and his questions incisive.
Watching him navigate complex political situations with such skill only compounds my confusion.
This isn't the cruel tyrant's son I expected.
This is a leader who genuinely seems to care about his people's welfare, who asks thoughtful questions about the impact of decisions on common families.
How can he be so different from his father?
The treacherous thought surfaces before I can stop it, followed immediately by guilt. Just because Knox appears decent doesn't erase what King Alexander did to my pack. Blood runs thicker than appearances, and I can't afford to let surface charm distract me from the truth.
But then Knox turns toward me, concern etched across his handsome features as he notices my distraction. Without disrupting the ongoing discussion, he leans closer until his breath ghosts against my ear.
"Everything alright?" he murmurs, his voice low and intimate despite our public setting. "You seem... elsewhere."
The warmth of his breath against my skin sends unwanted shivers down my spine.
This close, I can smell his scent—cedar and storm rain mixed with something uniquely masculine that makes my wolf practically purr with satisfaction.
It takes everything I have not to lean into that warmth, not to seek the comfort his presence offers.
"Just taking it all in," I whisper back, forcing my voice to remain steady. "It's a lot to absorb."
Knox's eyes search mine for a moment, clearly sensing there's more to my distraction than simple overwhelm. But instead of pressing, he offers something that makes my chest tighten with unexpected emotion.
"How about dinner tonight?" he suggests quietly, his lips curving into a small smile that transforms his entire face. "Just the two of us. Somewhere we can talk without politics and protocols getting in the way."
The offer hits me like a physical blow. Not because it's unwelcome—that's the problem. The idea of spending an evening alone with Knox, away from the weight of my mission and the guilt crushing my chest, sounds like exactly what I desperately need. Which is precisely why I should refuse.
"Say yes," Aria urges immediately, her presence suddenly sharp and insistent in my mind. "When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to? When did you last allow yourself a moment of happiness?"
"This isn't about happiness," I argue back, but my conviction wavers. "This is about justice for our family."
"And spending one evening with our mate will somehow dishonor their memory? Or are you afraid you might actually enjoy yourself?"
The accusation cuts deeper than I want to admit.
Because she's right—part of me is terrified of how much I want to say yes.
How desperately I crave the chance to see Knox away from the weight of royal expectations and family secrets.
To discover if the man who brings me flowers every morning and holds me so tenderly is real, or just another facade.
Knox is still waiting for my answer, his green eyes hopeful but patient.
Around us, the council continues their discussions, but I feel suspended in this moment of choice.
Accept his invitation and risk losing myself further in feelings I shouldn't have, or refuse and continue this careful dance of deception that's slowly tearing me apart.
"I'd like that," I hear myself say, the words emerging before my rational mind can stop them.
The smile that spreads across Knox's face is radiant, transforming his formal features into something boyish and achingly sincere. "Perfect. I know just the place."