Defy The Alpha(s) - Chapter 671

Chapter 671: A Talk With The Queen

“Enough shame. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s your right to desire our mate and to claim each other without restraint,” Thalia murmured in Violet’s mind — bold, brazen, and entirely unhelpful.

Violet clenched her jaw and ignored her. The wolf’s raw, unfiltered need had almost cost her control moments ago.

Thalia huffed. “You forget I’m a beast, Violet. I have needs.”

Of course she did. Violet exhaled sharply.

She always forgot that her wolf wasn’t some refined, reasonable creature. Thalia was primal and passionate, always pushing her straight toward mating — never pausing to consider the delicate group dynamic of having one unmated Alpha in their harem, the one they were all holding back out of courtesy.

“You know I can hear every single thought you’re having,” Thalia reminded her dryly.

Violet could practically feel the wolf roll her eyes.

“Just let me breathe, Thalia,” she muttered inwardly.

Of course, silence answered her.

Then, with the same petulant attitude as a cat turning its back, Thalia retreated into the depths of her mind, giving Violet space, even if reluctantly.

Violet exhaled a hard breath, loud enough that Alaric’s head snapped toward her.

“Are you okay?” he asked out of concern. Her jaw was clenched hard and he could sense the anger coming from her.

“Never been better,” Violet gritted out as she strode toward the dining hall, her steps clipped with irritation. She was pissed. Beyond pissed.

She could forgive her mother for the years of absence, and for the secrets, but making it impossible for Asher to have sex with her without dying? That was insanity on a whole different level.

The one person she wanted the most, and she couldn’t have him without putting his life at risk. They had to wait for the matebond to finally snap into place. Wait for a connection that, so far, showed no sign of forming.

So yeah, she was one spark away from exploding.

It must have been something in Violet’s gaze, because Alaric didn’t push further. The group was tense enough already. Even though Asher had said it was fine, a heavy pressure still hung in the air.

Roman was silent. Roman. Silent.

That alone told Violet how messed up everything was. He hadn’t done anything wrong by wanting her, yet he was burdened with guilt he never asked for. Everything felt wrong and unfair.

Queen Seraphira’s head snapped up the moment they entered the hall.

She was already seated at the head of the long table, glowing with power and poise. But the second her eyes landed on them, they narrowed instantly sensing the negative energy surrounding the group.

“Daughter,” Seraphira said warmly, extending her hands.

Violet placed hers in the Queen’s touch, and Seraphira pulled her into an embrace, but the hug was stiff, lacking the bright excitement of yesterday.

“Your Majesty,” the cardinal alphas greeted one after the other, each bowing his head in respect.

“You are all welcome. Sit.”

They obeyed, taking their places around the table. With Queen Seraphira at the head seat overlooking everyone, Violet sat at her right side, close enough for conversation.

Alaric sat beside Violet, his posture subtly protective, while across from her sat Asher, whose gaze never strayed from her. Then beside Asher was Griffin, and finally Roman, who claimed the last seat.

“The sleep did you well,” Queen Seraphira’s voice rippled through the hall, shattering the heavy silence almost instantly. “Your complexion is glowing now.”

“Certainly not more than yours.”

Violet meant it as a compliment, but the anger simmering inside her made the words come out more forcefully than she intended.

No matter the hour, the Queen was never anything short of flawless, her skin always luminous. She looked fresher than a newborn. Normally Violet would have admired it, but right now that glow only irritated her.

Seraphira noticed the edge in her tone but chose not to address it. “Well, thank you, princess.”

The title hit differently today. Yesterday, Violet might have brushed past it. Even blushed, perhaps. But after their clash over her claiming the throne, she heard the message loud and clear. It was a push toward a role she hadn’t asked for.

Asher cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Your Majesty, we sent a message earlier requesting to speak with you.”

“Yes,” Queen Seraphira replied smoothly. “I received it. And it seems we have developed a habit of holding important discussions over meals.”

The Queen clapped her hands, and on cue, the servants glided in, each carrying trays of food.

They set down vibrant yet strange Fae dishes. There were glowing fruit slices, leafy salads that released a soft floral scent, and bowls of broth that steamed with a blue hue. Alongside them came the heartier plates clearly meant for the werewolves, spiced boar ribs dripping in glossy sauce, and thick cuts of seasoned meat still sizzling from the fire.

No matter how furious she was, Violet’s stomach betrayed her with a loud growl at the sight of so much mouthwatering abundance.

The servants moved quickly and efficiently, placing plates and filling their goblets with sparkling wine. Then, just as swiftly and quietly as they had entered, they left as if they had never been there at all.

“The meal be blessed. Let’s dig in, shall we?” the Queen said, already lifting her utensils and taking the first bite.

Everyone followed silently, choosing their dishes. Violet watched as Alaric reached for the meat only to pause mid-movement, his gaze drifting to a strange Fae dish beside it. It looked harmless enough: a single green leaf, baked until crisp and dusted with a sparkling white powder that resembled crystallized sugar.

Violet understood the hesitation. Fae meals looked beautiful but strange, and werewolves were naturally drawn to meat, not magical salads.

Still, Alaric stabbed the leaf with his fork, lifted it, and took a tentative bite.

He chewed slowly. Then stopped.

The table froze with him.

Even though they had been spelled to safely eat Fae food, suspicion was in their bones. So when Alaric paused like that, every cardinal alpha—and Violet—went still, ready to abandon their plates if needed.

Then Alaric’s eyes widened. A beat later, a look of pure bliss crossed his face, and he shoved the rest of the leaf into his mouth with zero dignity.

“Goddess above, it’s fucking delicious,” he declared, already reaching for another.

Violet nearly snorted. Of course. She forgot Alaric had a sweet tooth the size of Aster City.