Chapter 9 - THE ALPHAS’ DECREE

Deep within the inner sanctuary of the Royal Lycan Citadel, high above the frozen valleys of the Iron Peaks, the stone chamber burned with the warm, amber glow of a hundred hearth fires.
For three agonizing days, the citadel had been locked in absolute silence. No council meetings were held. No guards patrolled the inner halls. The entire royal court waited with bated breath outside the heavy oaken doors of the King’s private chambers.
Inside, Alonzo had refused to leave Gertrude’s bedside for a single second.
Using his own royal blood—pure, ancient, and potent enough to neutralize the synthetic toxins of the rebel silver—he had spent forty-eight hours purging the poison from her veins, transferring the agony into his own scarred body until the fever finally broke.
On the third morning, Gertrude’s eyes slowly flickered open.
The first thing she saw was the vaulted stone ceiling of a grand, unfamiliar bedroom draped in heavy velvet and dark furs. The second thing she saw was Alonzo sitting slumped in a wooden chair beside her bed, his head bowed, dark shadows bruised beneath his golden eyes, looking entirely exhausted yet fiercely alive.
Gertrude shifted slightly, a dull ache still lingering in her shoulder, but her breathing was strong and steady. "If you're going to keep staring at me like a heartbroken hound, Your Majesty, you could at least offer me a glass of water."
Alonzo’s head snapped up.
In a fraction of a second, he was kneeling beside the mattress, his large, warm hands gently cupping her face as if checking to ensure she was real. A ragged, breathless laugh escaped his lips.
"You're awake," he whispered, his voice thick with overwhelming relief. "By the gods, you're awake."
"Of course I'm awake," she muttered, though she didn't pull away from his touch. "I'm a healer. We're notoriously difficult to kill. What happened to Coulter Woods?"
Alonzo’s expression darkened into cold, absolute granite. "Vane and his trackers hunted him down before he reached the lowlands. He won't be bothering anyone ever again. Neither will Malakor; the rebel leadership was crushed at the base of the Black Gorge two nights ago."
Gertrude let out a long, shaky breath, leaning her head back against the plush pillows. "Good. Because if I have to move houses again due to political assassinations, I'm going to send you the bill for my cabin."
Alonzo chuckled, a rich, deep sound that warmed the cold stone room. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently against hers.
"Your cabin is being rebuilt," he murmured softly. "Though I suspect you won't be living in isolation much longer."
Before Gertrude could formulate a sarcastic response, the heavy oak doors of the bedchamber swung open.
The high council of the Lycan Kingdom—twelve ancient, heavily scarred elders and generals clad in ceremonial silver-trimmed armor—marched into the room in solemn procession. Gertrude stiffened, pulling the blanket up slightly, but Alonzo didn't move an inch away from her bedside.
The lead elder, a venerable Lycan with white hair and piercing amber eyes, stopped at the foot of the bed and swept into a deep, formal bow. The other eleven elders instantly followed suit, kneeling in unison before the human healer.
"My King," the elder spoke, his voice echoing respectfully through the grand chamber. "The rebels are broken. The kingdom is secure. And the debt this court owes to the human who saved our sovereign’s life is beyond measure."
Alonzo turned his head, looking back at the kneeling council, then down at Gertrude. His golden eyes burned with an absolute, undeniable truth.
"Rise," Alonzo commanded his council.
The elders stood.
Alonzo slipped his hand down, lacing his warm, calloused fingers securely through Gertrude’s. He looked straight into her startled eyes, a confident, wicked smile touching the corners of his lips.
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"You are not my queen," Alonzo murmured softly for her ears alone, repeating the words that had haunted her since the night he arrived at her door. Then, louder, so the entire royal court could hear every syllable ring out across the stone halls:
"You are something far more dangerous. You are the heart of this kingdom. And you will rule it by my side."