96: Emma

The air in the room was charged with tension, thick with the mingled scents of anger, fear, and power. I moved between Elijah and Theo, my brother making space for me at the table while Theo's hand found mine, our fingers intertwining. The two guards positioned themselves against the wall behind me, their presence a silent support.

Benjamin stared at me, his gaze a mixture of hunger and hate that made my skin crawl. "Emma," he said, my name an unwelcome intimacy on his lips.

"Your Majesty," I corrected, my voice firmer than I had expected. "You will address me as Your Majesty or Queen Emma."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. "You're not—"

"I am Queen," I cut him off, squeezing Theo's hand for reassurance but holding Benjamin's gaze. "That's all there is to it. You couldn't mark me because I found my true mate in Theo, rather than the abusive asshole that you were."

His face contorted with rage, but I continued, drawing strength from Artemis, from Theo, from my brother at my side.

"You tried to own me once before, and I walked away," I said, leaning forward slightly. "I should have let Elijah kill you years ago when he wanted to."

I felt my aura rising to meet Theo's, our power mingling in the space between us—twining together into something neither of us could have created alone.

"The doctor," I said. "How did you get him to agree to your plan?"

Benjamin tried to resist, his teeth clenched against the dual compulsion of our auras, but he had no defense against our combined power. "His daughter," he finally gasped. "I threatened his daughter. Said I'd kill her if he didn't cooperate."

Disgust coiled in my stomach. "You threatened a child to get what you wanted?"

"I'd have done anything to have you," he said, and the sincerity in his voice was perhaps the most disturbing thing of all.

I drew back, suddenly weary of his presence, of the hatred and obsession that radiated from him. "You'll never have me," I said softly. "You'll never have anyone again. Your pack will be reassigned, your status stripped, your freedom forfeit. That's the price you pay for what you've done."

I rose from the table, Theo moving with me, his presence a solid comfort at my side. "I hope it was worth it," I added, turning toward the door.

"It will never be over," Benjamin called after me. "You'll always be looking over your shoulder, Emma. Always wondering who else thinks like I do, who else doesn't want a wolf as their Queen."

I paused, my hand on the door, and looked back at him over my shoulder. "Let them come," I said, feeling Artemis's fierce agreement. "I've survived worse than their disapproval. I survived you."

We left him there, seething in his impotent rage, his threats hollow in the face of what we had become together. As the door closed behind us, I let out a long, shaky breath, the tension leaving my body in a rush that left me light-headed.

Theo's arms came around me, holding me up, holding me close. "You did well, my Queen," he murmured against my hair.

I nodded against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The confrontation hadn't erased the trauma of what Benjamin had tried to do, hadn't magically healed the wounds of our past. But it had given me something perhaps more valuable—the knowledge that I could face my fears and walk away stronger.

‘We are Queen now,’ Artemis reminded me, her presence a warm glow in my chest. ‘And no one will ever cage us again.’

I spent seven days watching men break. Not physically—though some came close—but watching as their carefully constructed lies crumbled under persistent questioning.

Each day brought a new interrogation, a new face across the table, a new web of deception to untangle. By the seventh day, my dreams were saturated with their voices, their excuses, their desperate attempts to minimize their roles in what they'd done to me. I hadn't expected justice to be so exhausting.

The interrogation rooms beneath the royal palace were sparse and cold—deliberately so, I imagined. Nothing but a metal table, three chairs, and walls of a peculiar grey stone that seemed to absorb both sound and hope. Theo had explained they were lined with silver filaments, enough to make any Lycan or werewolf feel subtly weakened, slightly nauseated. Not torture, he'd insisted, just enough discomfort to discourage lies.

Minister Krea was the first. The former Minister of Foreign Affairs sat with impeccable posture even in captivity, her silver hair pulled back so severely it seemed to stretch her skin. Her eyes, when they met mine, showed nothing but cool calculation.

"You understand, Your Majesty," she said, the title falling from her lips like a sour fruit, "that maintaining the purity of Lycan bloodlines is essential to our kingdom's strength. A true queen would recognize this."

I leaned forward, still unsettled by the way everyone now addressed me. "What I recognize is that you helped orchestrate my kidnapping to prevent me from taking that role."

"A necessary precaution," she replied without a flicker of remorse. "Werewolves were meant to serve, not rule alongside us."

"And yet here I am," I said quietly. I watched her face tighten, the only indication that my words had landed.

That night, Theo held me as I shivered despite the warmth of our chambers. "I never realized how cold they are," I whispered against his chest. "Not just cruel, but empty. Like there's nothing inside them but ambition."

His fingers traced patterns on my bare shoulder. "Not all Lycans think like Krea."

"I know," I said, though the chill lingered.

Minister Bennett was different—agitated where Krea had been composed. His fingers drummed incessantly on the table, a nervous rhythm that filled the silent gaps between questions.

"It wasn't personal," he insisted, his eyes darting between Theo and me. "The markets were projecting instability with the marriage announcement. Investors were threatening to pull out. I simply calculated the most efficient path to stability."

"By having me forcibly marked by another Alpha?" My voice remained steady despite the sickness that rose in my throat at the memory.

His mouth twitched. "The Silver Crescent alliance offered financial advantages that—"

"That my life was worth sacrificing for," I finished for him.

A flash of genuine confusion crossed his face. "It was just business, Your Majesty."

I remembered how Theo's hands had clenched under the table.

Minister Stavros was perhaps the most forthright, his hatred requiring no excavation. The former Minister of Defense sat rigid in his chair, his contempt radiating like heat.

"Werewolves have no place in royal succession," he stated flatly. "This marriage undermines centuries of Lycan strength. I acted to prevent the dilution of our power."

"By betraying your king?" Theo's voice was dangerous, the lowest register of his anger that made even my skin prickle.

Stavros looked at him with something like pity. "You betrayed your kind first, Your Majesty. I remained loyal to what matters—Lycan supremacy."

I watched Theo's jaw work, the muscle leaping beneath his skin. Later, he confessed he'd wanted to tear Stavros's throat out. "I wouldn't have blamed you," I whispered in the darkness of our bed.

Lord Cassius maintained his aristocratic air despite seven days in a cell. His silver-streaked beard had grown unkempt, but his gaze remained imperious.

"My loyalty to Alpha Thorne spans generations," he explained, as if we were discussing something as mundane as a business arrangement. "His grandfather saved my father's life. Such debts must be honoured."

"Even when it means kidnapping?" I asked.

His eyes flickered with something—not quite regret, but recognition. "I perhaps allowed loyalty to override judgment. But surely you understand devotion, Your Majesty? You who have inspired such in our king."

It was manipulative, skillful. I almost admired his ability to redirect, to soften the edges of his crimes with appeals to values I held dear.

Dr. Stone was the only one who crumbled completely. A father whose daughter had been used as leverage.

"They threatened Sarah," he said, his voice breaking. "Said they'd make an example of her if I didn't provide the sedatives. What choice did I have?" He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. "What would you have done?"

I had no answer for him. The question haunted me through the night.

Alpha Michael Barker was saved for last.