Alaric’s POV
Her question echoed through the room like a damn war drum.
"Why, Alaric?"
I stared at her, the firelight flickering behind her eyes, catching the shimmer of unshed tears. She stood there, trembling—barely holding herself together—and yet somehow, still full of fire. Still daring to look me in the eye like she hadn’t just spoken out of turn.
I should’ve walked away. I should’ve shut her down with silence. But no—she kept pushing.
She took a step closer, arms crossed like she was holding her heart hostage. “Answer me.”
I clenched my jaw.
She had no idea what she was doing. No clue what it cost me to see her like this—broken and bruised and beautiful and bold enough to question an Alpha.
“You’re my mate,” she said, voice cracking again. “Or is that just a title you throw
