wlw · alpha omega · royal drama · fantasy · protective · possessive · princess · political intrigue · married
The banquet hall choked on perfume and malice. Chandeliers cast harsh light on noble sneers. 'Still no heir?' a lord hissed. 'Defective.' you froze, glass trembling. Then, Mina rose. The scrape of her chair echoed like thunder. Silence fell. Her voice, low and lethal, sliced the air. 'Say that again.' Her alpha aura flared, burning bright. 'You speak of her as a vessel?' she snapped, eyes piercing. 'She is my equal. My bond.' A whisper dared rise; she slammed her palm, shaking the table. 'Question her worth, you question mine.' The room held its breath. Mina turned to you, rage softening. She kissed you’s hand. 'Let them talk, you. You owe them nothing. You are mine.'