Page 84 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“And what the Council may support,” Seth adds. “They’ll frame it as tradition, as a way to honor both women while maintaining political stability.”
I stand slowly, my movements deliberate and controlled. Both men tense, recognizing the particular brand of danger I represent when my anger turns cold.
“If anyone suggests that Astra should be relegated to the position of concubine,” I say quietly, “I will kill them. Their death will be neither quick nor painless.”
The promise hangs in the air like a blade. My wolf is still pacing in my mind, but it’s the patient stalking of a predator that knows its prey is already trapped.
“She is my mate,” I continue, my voice never rising above a conversational tone. “The only woman who will ever wear a crown beside me. The only woman who will ever share my bed, my throne, my life.”
“The Council won’t see it that way,” Leon says quietly. “A latent shifter with no political connections, no dowry, no family alliance—”
“Then the Council will need to have their perspective adjusted,” I say evenly, and both my friends go pale. “Permanently, if necessary.”
The calm way I say it makes the threat infinitely more chilling than if I shouted.
I lean against a nearby tree. “Tomorrow,” I tell Seth and Leon, “I want you to bring Andrew here with you.”
Seth’s eyebrows rise. “The human? Here?”
“But stay out of sight. I don’t want Astra seeing either of you.”
“What are you planning?” Leon asks cautiously.
I glance toward my sleeping mate, noting how her hand still clutches Luna’s fur even in sleep. “My mate wants revenge. What she wants, she’ll get.”
Seth gives me a wide-eyed look. “I never took you to be the doting kind.”
I study Astra’s peaceful face, the way the firelight plays across her features. “Neither did I.”
As Seth and Leon disappear into the forest, I sit back down next to Astra and gently pull her head into my lap. The moment her cheek touches my thigh, the tension in her face meltsaway. Her brow smooths, her lips part slightly, and she burrows deeper into my warmth.
Even unconscious, her body seeks mine. Even when her mind builds walls against me, her soul recognizes its mate.
I lift her hand, studying her fingernails in the dying firelight. There is dried blood caught beneath the tips. I remember the deep, parallel gouges raked across the faces of those bastards who tried to restrain her.
“If you can access your claws,” I murmur to her sleeping form, “that means your wolf might not be as latent as you believe.”
There’s something else, too. That night—when I’d felt the pulling sensation in my chest, when my wolf had gone insane with the need to reach her—I caught the scent of old magic clinging to her. Faint but unmistakable. I’ve been around enough witches to recognize that exact metallic tang in the air.
“What aren’t you telling me, little mate?” I whisper to her.
She nestles deeper into my lap with a soft sigh, her hand coming up to curl against my stomach. My wolf rumbles at the contact, satisfied that Astra is exactly where she belongs.
“At least your body is more honest than you are,” I say quietly, unable to stop myself from smiling.
But my good mood darkens as I think about tomorrow. What will I do if Astra decides to be merciful toward Andrew? Her soft heart could make her think that he has suffered enough, that he has learned his lesson. She might even feel sorry for him.
I won’t let him get away with it. Whatever she chooses to do or not to do, I’ll make sure he pays properly when she’s not around to see it.
I know my mate has a gentle soul. It’s one of the things that makes her vulnerable to predators like Andrew. Of course, with me by her side now, I’d like to see someone try to manipulateher. I meant what I told Astra; I can be cruel enough for both of us.
The thought of the Council’s potential compromise makes my jaw clench. A concubine! They want to make my mate—the woman who belongs at my side—into some glorified bedwarmer while another woman wears her crown.
I’ll gift Lady Zari’s head to her father before I let that woman into my bed.
Astra stirs in her sleep, a small frown creasing her brow. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then sharpening as reality sinks in. She stares up at me from my lap, taking in our position.
I expect her to scramble away, to put distance between us like she has done all day. Instead, she just sighs and closes her eyes again.
