Page 63 of Alpha's Hated Mate

“Mind your tongue!” Elder Greenwood says. “She is our Luna!”

“She is not our Luna until there is a mating ceremony.”

“How about the Holloway girl? I’ve known Vera since birth,” interjects a silver-haired elder at the far end. “Pure bloodline for twelve generations. She would make a more . . . appropriate Luna for our pack.”

Several council members nod in agreement.

The insults are hardly unexpected—I’ve heard worse walking down hallways at Moonhelm—but the blatant hostility from the very people supposedly serving Aydan’s best interests makes my blood simmer. I clench my hands in my lap, fighting the urge to show them exactly what a Scarlet wolf can do.

“Enough.” Aydan’s knuckles whiten around his fork before he sets it down with deliberate control. The single word silences the entire table.

“Saffron Kamaria bears my mark. Sheismy Luna—chosen, claimed, and bound to me. By the Moon Goddess, that bondcannot be broken or denied.” His voice is quiet and steady but carries the unmistakable weight of Alpha command. “I understand your concerns. A mating ceremony will come but it is just that—ceremonial. Questioning her or her place in this pack means challenging me as your Alpha. If that is what you intend, speak up now.”

A tense silence falls over the table. The council members exchange uncomfortable glances, clearly caught off guard by Aydan’s directness.

“We are in agreement then,” Aydan continues. “I will not stand for anyone disrespecting my Luna. Not in my house. Not in my presence. Not ever.”

Aydan’s mark on my neck warms in response to his defense . . . or maybe it’s the wine. Either way, I reach for my glass, taking a slow sip to hide my satisfaction at their discomfort.

A silver-haired man at the far end of the table narrows his eyes at me before turning to Aydan and changing the subject. “We’ve been eager to hear your explanation for recent . . . developments with your sister, Lady Vaultmore.”

The remainder of the first course proceeds with forced civility. Beneath the clinking of silverware, Aydan recounts to the others our confrontation with Nadia and what we discovered about his father. After their questions were answered to their satisfaction, the conversation transitions into pack finances and territory disputes.

Aydan catches my eye across the rim of his glass, giving me the smallest reassuring nod. I return it with a slight smile, knowing this isn’t over yet. Just the first step toward gaining acceptance in my new pack.

The Council Chamber drowns me in boredom. I shift in my uncomfortable wooden chair, trying to find a position that doesn’t make my back ache or my butt hurt while the council drones on about neighbor disputes and hunting quotas. Seated in the front row of spectators, I’m painfully aware of the thirty-plus pack members behind me, all breathing down my neck with curious stares and whispered judgments.

Aydan sits at the center of the curved council table, his posture perfect as he flips through the papers in front of him. He looks every inch the Alpha in his tailored black suit, occasionally making notes or asking pointed questions. The formality of it all is stifling, but I suppose this is what pack leadership looks like.

I stifle a yawn as Councilwoman Foster presents a proposal about expanding the pack’s timber operations. When they mentioned a “hearing” this morning, they neglected to mention it would be mind-numbingly dull.

“If I may interject.”

Councilman Ellis’s voice cuts through the tedium as he abruptly rises from his seat. The room instantly tenses.

“Before we continue with these mundane matters, I believe we’re avoiding the most important issue at hand.” His cold eyes fix on Aydan. “The question of your fitness to lead this pack, given your . . . compromised status.”

The gallery behind me ripples with murmurs. My spine straightens.Uh oh.

“You’ve been identified as a Neutral wolf and taken a Scarlet—a genetic anomaly—as your mate.” Ellis spits the word like it’s poison. “Your judgment is clearly impaired, and your bloodline tainted. How can we trust you to make decisions for the good of this pack when you’ve already prioritized your own . . . unnatural desires?”

The whispers intensify behind me. I dig my nails into my palms, fighting the urge to stand.

Aydan remains perfectly still, his face a mask of Alpha control, but I can see the dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Councilman Ellis,” he says, voice deceptively soft. “I believe I made myself clear last night about questioning my mate or my position. Are you formally challenging me as Alpha of the Vaultmore pack?”

Whispers from the gallery turn to a buzz of excitement. This is what they came for—a drama-filled spectacle.

Ellis’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “The pack deserves an Alpha of pure lineage and sound judgment. I invoke the ancient rite of challenge by dominance.”

The council members audibly gasp.

My heart stutters.Shit, shit, shit.This can’t be happening. If Aydan is defeated as pack leader, it will destroy everything. They could separate us by banishing me from Claymore. Or even more terrifying—they could exile him from the only pack he’s ever known.

Aydan’s jaw clenches, the only visible sign of emotion. “I accept your challenge,” he says evenly. “As is my right and duty as Alpha.”

One of the elders stands and nods. “Prepare the ceremonial circle.”

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