Sophia POV:

The silence in the ballroom was heavy enough to crush bones. The air smelled of ozone and terrified sweat.

August was trembling on the floor, his forehead pressed against the cold marble. Hailey was sobbing into her hands, her makeup smearing like war paint gone wrong.

Just then, a man in white robes sprinted into the room, flanked by two of Ryder's elite Shadow Guards. It was the Royal Healer. He took one look at Ryder’s face and nearly dropped his medical kit.

"My King," the Healer stammered, bowing low. "I came as fast as I could."

"Fix her," Ryder commanded, pointing to my hand.

The Healer rushed to me. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely open the disinfectant.

"Careful," Darren growled from beside me. My three-year-old son was watching the Healer’s every move, his little body tense, ready to attack if the man caused me pain.

"It's just a scratch, Ryder," I said softly. I reached out with my good hand and touched Ryder’s arm.

The contact sent a spark through me—the electric touch of the Mate Bond. It was grounding.

Ryder flinched, then leaned into my touch. He closed his eyes, inhaling my scent.

"They made you bleed," he murmured, his voice thick with the dual tones of man and wolf. "My wolf wants to tear this building down brick by brick."

"I know," I whispered. "But look at them."

I gestured to the room. Hundreds of powerful wolves were still visibly shaking, terrified of his wrath.

"They know who is King," I said. "Now let them see who is Queen."

Ryder opened his eyes. The gold faded slightly, returning to a human hazel. He took a deep breath, reining in his murderous aura.

"Get up," he barked at the crowd.

The sound of hundreds of people scrambling to their feet filled the room. But August remained on his knees, staring at the floor, sweat dripping from his nose. He knew his reckoning had just begun.

Ryder gestured to the throne that the Aurelis staff had frantically polished. He sat, pulling me onto his lap without hesitation. He kept my bandaged hand resting on his knee, a visual reminder of their crime.

"Now," Ryder said, his voice low and deadly. "We start the trial."

*

Ryder POV:

I sat on the throne, Sophia on my lap. This was not a banquet anymore. It was an execution waiting to happen.

The air smelled of fear and stale champagne. I looked down at the man who had dared to reject my soul.

August Cadwell. He was pathetic. A weak-chinned, watery-eyed excuse for a male. I couldn't understand how Sophia had ever shed a tear for him.

"Speak," I commanded.

August crawled forward on his hands and knees. He didn't dare look me in the eye. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Sophia, desperation leaking from his pores.

"Sophia," he choked out. "Please. It was a mistake. I was young. The Elders pressured me to find a mate with strong bloodlines. I didn't know... I didn't know you were a latent wolf."

He was trying to appeal to her history. To the love she once held for him.

I felt a growl building in my chest. My hand tightened on the armrest of the throne. *Mine,* my wolf Fenrir snarled in my head. *Rip his throat out.*

Sophia looked at him with zero emotion. "You didn't reject me because of the Elders, August. You rejected me because you wanted power. You wanted Hailey's family connections."

"But we had seven years!" August cried, getting desperate. "Seven years of memories! You can't just erase that!"

He pointed a shaking finger at me.

"He's just a rebound!" August shouted, his voice cracking. "You only married him because I broke your heart! He's a substitute! A replacement for me!"

*Crack.*

The crystal wine glass in my hand turned to dust. Shards of glass bit into my palm, but I didn't feel it.

A substitute.

The word burned. It was my deepest insecurity. I had found Sophia broken, weeping in the rain three years ago. I had put her back together. But a part of me always feared that she only loved me because I saved her, not because I was her true match.

The room went deadly silent.

Then, I felt soft lips on my bleeding hand.

I looked down. Sophia was kissing my palm, ignoring the blood and glass dust. She looked up at me, and then turned her gaze to August. Her eyes were cold as ice.

"You are delusional," she said clearly. "Ryder is not a substitute. He is my soul. When I look at you, August, I feel nothing. But when I look at him, I feel whole."

She laced her fingers with mine. "You were a mistake. Ryder is my destiny."

My heart slammed against my ribs. The knot of tension in my chest loosened.

August’s face twisted in ugly rage. He realized his emotional manipulation wasn't working. He looked at the small boy standing beside the throne.

Darren was glaring at him.

"Fine!" August spat. "Go with him! But I'm willing to forgive you, Sophia. I'm willing to take you back. I'll even let that... that bastard child live in the servants' quarters."

The air left the room.

To call an Alpha Heir a "bastard" was a death sentence.

I stood up. The movement was slow, deliberate.

"What did you call my son?" I asked.

August realized too late what he had said. He opened his mouth to stammer an apology, but Darren moved first.

Darren didn't speak. He didn't make a speech. He just reacted with the pure, unadulterated instinct of a predator.

His eyes flashed a bright, ruby red.

With a snarl that sounded too big for his small chest, Darren launched himself off the dais. He was small, but he had Lymerian blood. He moved like a bullet.

August didn't even have time to flinch before three-year-old teeth sank into his outstretched hand.

*