Defy The Alpha(s) novel Chapter 643

Chapter 643: Gentle Killers

Asher’s fierce loyalty was a thing to study. The moment Lila explained the spell, he stepped forward without blinking.

"Do it on me first," he said. "If I’m fine after breakfast with the queen, the others can take it."

Violet opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her a look that said this wasn’t up for debate. She closed it again, squeezing his hand instead. He squeezed back with assurance.

To be honest, Asher expected they would invite some priest and that it involved some ritual, you know, witch style.

Instead, Lila only moved closer, "Hold still," she said.

Then she breathed a string of soft, old words against his skin. A small prickle ran under Asher’s flesh, as if a veil brushed him from crown to heel. The hairs on his arms stood on edge, then settled. Just like that, the tingling faded like the after-spark of a touch.

"That’s it?" he asked, stunned. He had been looking forward to a little pain.

"That’s it," Lila said. "It should blunt glamour, shield you from charms, and let your body accept our food. If anything feels wrong, tell me immediately."

"It won’t," Violet hoped to the gods. Still, her eyes stayed on Asher, searching his face for any sign of discomfort.

He rolled his shoulders once. "I’m good."

"Good. Let’s go."

Griffin and Alaric stayed behind to babysit Roman—and really, to babysit each other—while Roman paid a very noisy price for pixie nectar.

Asher and Violet took the central corridor with Lila and Rhara leading the way, vines stirring along the walls as if gossiping about their passing.

They were brought into the breakfast hall, and it felt like walking into morning itself.

The room was long and bright, set beneath a domed ceiling laced with trailing ivy and thin panes of colored glass. Sunlight broke through the glass in soft strips, painting the floor in blues and greens.

The floor was smooth stone, but warm underfoot, and tables curved along either side in elegant arcs instead of harsh lines—Fae didn’t like straight things, apparently—and each table was draped in cloth that looked like it was woven from mist.

At the head, on a dais of pale wood, stood a narrow, graceful table. Queen Seraphira rose from it the instant she saw them.

"Daughter," she called out.

Violet’s breath caught.

The queen looked effortless, as always, wearing a gown the color of riverlight, and a golden circlet on her head that marked her place.

Her long, braided hair fell like a banner down her back. She crossed the space between them with a pace that seemed slow and yet arrived all at once, taking Violet’s hands in both of hers, her eyes shining with delight.

"Mother," Violet said the name with less effort than yesterday.

Queen Seraphira lifted her gaze to Asher. "Alpha Asher," she greeted with a soft smile that didn’t pretend.

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