They didn't sleep that night... instead they chose to get ready. To put their best selves forward and look the part.
Kael had sent and entire team to help Vireya get ready. They had all eyed her suspiciously but none of the ladies made a peep. Vireya figured the King had given them a life or death talk before they entered the room. They only spoke to ask her opinion on certain things. But Vireya had never worn anything like this before, she had never had her make up done either... So she asked them to just do what they pleased.
Once the ladies finished Vireya stood in the mirror and the maroon fabric shimmered with every movement, hugging her curves like it had been cut from the blood of queens and stitched with war. The neckline plunged just enough to make her look untouchable, and the long slit up one leg promised violence if you looked too long.
Her freckles glowed against the pale of her skin. Her red hair had been curled, twisted, and pinned back into a crown of flame by a woman Iska swore had done royal courtesans and battle generals. Smokey shadow deepened her sea-glass eyes. Her lips a shade of red Kael hadn't stopped staring at since she walked out of the dressing chamber.
She wasn't beautiful.
She was a fucking reckoning.
And when she stepped forward, Kael was already waiting, dressed head to toe in black. Not just armor, but tailored command. His storm-grey eyes sharpened when he saw her.
He didn't say anything. Just reached for her hand, turned it over, and slid something onto her finger.
A ring, deep crimson ruby set in obsidian.
She blinked. "What is this?"
"A match," he said, holding up his own hand. His ring was black diamond, jagged cut. It looked like a piece of night forged into stone.
Then, from his pocket, he pulled a necklace.
Thin chain. Dark metal. One single black diamond in the center.
He clasped it around her neck without asking. The stone settled just above her chest. To match him and to warn them. She was no longer just with the Alpha King. She was his Queen. Vireya swallowed, trying not to let the heat flood her face. Not from embarrassment. From power.
Because for the first time in her life, she didn't feel like prey.
She felt like something hunted.
Kael's voice was low. "When they enter, don't speak until I say. But when you do... don't bow."
"I wasn't planning on it."
His mouth curved. Not quite a smile.
But something close.
"Good."
________________________________________________________________________________
The knock at the outer gate echoed through the castle like thunder.
Kael's spine straightened, the storm already brewing in his eyes.
Iska strolled in, tossing a scroll onto a nearby table. "They're right on time. Looking smug. Probably think this is going to be a neat little execution."
Vireya groaned, then stood taller. "Let them try."
The council entered the throne hall like stormclouds with teeth.
Seven wolves.
All high-ranking. All ancient. The weight of their power rippled through the air like a low growl. Their robes dragged across the stone, etched in gold and bone-thread, symbols of ancient bloodlines and older wars.
Three men. Four women. None of them smiled.
They didn't just look at Kael.
They dissected him.
They didn't just notice Vireya.
They judged her.
Kael sat on the throne, back straight, one boot hooked over his knee like he was bored but deadly. Vireya stood to his right, dressed in blood-red power and anchored by the black diamond at her chest.
She didn't waver.
She burned.
Iska stood a pace behind them, already smirking.
The oldest woman stepped forward. Her eyes were the color of polished stone. Her aura hit like a slap.
"We sensed a bond flare," she said coldly.
Kael didn't blink. "Then your senses work."
"You broke the ancestral seal."
"I did."
"With... her?" another councilor spat, a male with a cruel mouth and colder eyes. "She's nothing. Unmarked. Unclaimed. You allowed an unstable female to tear through centuries of balance."
"She is not unstable," Kael said, voice steady.
One of the other women stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Then explain the power we felt in the mountains. The flare nearly shattered the eastern wards. You've bonded with something volatile. Dangerous."
Iska snorted. "Oh, now you want to talk about danger? Cute."
The silver-haired woman raised a brow. "Stay in your place, witch."
Iska took a step forward. "Say that again and I'll show you what place I keep my hexes."
Kael didn't look away from the speaker. "Enough."
Another man pointed at Vireya like she wasn't standing right there. "Who is she? What blood does she come from? You crown her in silence but bring no proof. Is this a conquest? A claim? A lapse in judgment?"
"She is my mate," Kael said, voice still even. "And your queen."
"And we don't accept bastards of broken lines as rulers," the cruel one growled.
Vireya stepped forward before she realized she was doing it. "Say that again."
The council straightened, surprised by her voice.
"You don't speak for me," the older woman snapped.
"I don't need to," Vireya said, chest rising. "You're already choking on your fear."
The tension snapped like a whip.
"You will regret this pairing," one of them snarled. "Her kind always ends in ruin."
Kael's hand clenched on the throne arm. His eyes were starting to glow.
"I dare you," another councilor hissed. "Put her through the trial of the veil. Let the old magic judge her."
"She's not ready for that," the silver-haired woman warned. "And if she fails, it won't just kill her. It'll kill the bond."
Vireya's heart thundered. Her back ached. The burn had returned, hot and pulsing. Her voice cracked as she stepped forward again, fury glowing under her skin. "I'm not scared of your trials—"
That's when Kael moved.
The entire room gasped.
He didn't just reach for her.
He pulled her into his lap. Right there. In front of the council. Like she was already his. Like he was done pretending he wasn't on the edge of violence.
His arm wrapped around her waist. His other hand came to rest on her thigh, fingers digging in just enough to anchor her. To stop her from doing something she might not survive.
He didn't speak for a moment.
Didn't blink.
And when he finally did, his storm-grey eyes glowed like the sky before a god-level lightning strike.
"She is mine," Kael growled.
His voice was low. Deadly. Final.
"You dare threaten her? In my hall?" His power cracked through the space like thunder. "Do not mistake my restraint for absence. Do not mistake her scars for weakness."
The council froze.
Kael's voice dropped even further.
"I am still your king. And I will be obeyed."
No one breathed.
No one dared.
After a long, suffocating silence, the silver-haired woman finally straightened.
"We will reconvene," she said stiffly. "And deliver our position."
"Do that," Kael replied. "But do it carefully."
The council turned, one by one, and left.
Not in victory.
But retreat.
When they were gone, Iska blew out a slow breath. "Well. That wasn't subtle."
Kael didn't release Vireya right away.
She was still tense. Still vibrating. But she leaned back slightly, just enough for her to hear his heart racing under her hand.
Not fear.
Possession.
Claim.
And she wasn't sure if it comforted her—or lit a fuse under everything she'd tried to hold back.
Iska stepped forward, quieter now.
"It's starting again," she said, gaze flicking to Vireya's spine. "Her wolf is waking faster than we thought."
Kael said nothing.
Because he already knew.
He could feel it along with Drekken scratching at him internally to be let out. It was getting harder by the minute to keep him contained. But Drekken wouldn't tell him what was so special about his bond. He just kept telling him, no demanding that they get her wolf.
And this kingdom?
Had no idea what was coming. Including the almighty council.
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