Defy The Alpha(s) - Chapter 675

Chapter 675: Get A Blessing From An Ancestor
The news was not taken well by the cardinal alphas, but Asher was the one most affected.

“This is fucking bullshit!” he exploded, slamming his hand against the table so hard the plates rattled.

He shot to his feet, eyes dark and wild.

“No. Absolutely not,” he growled, his voice thick with rising panic. “I will not allow it. You’re not going anywhere.”

On a battlefield, he could reach her. Protect her and tear apart anything that threatens her. But the Land of the Dead? How was he supposed to get to her there? What could he possibly do if something went wrong in a realm he couldn’t even step into?

The helplessness — even the mere idea of it — wrapped around his throat like a chokehold.

Griffin said, worry etched across his face.

“Asher. Breathe.”

Asher stared down at his hands. His entire arm trembled violently, his chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven pulls of air.

“Fuck,” he muttered, turning away quickly as humiliation burned through him.

Losing control like this in front of the Queen… in front of Violet… in front of his brothers… This wasn’t him. This wasn’t the Alpha he’d spent years forging himself into.

But he couldn’t stop it. The tremor wouldn’t ease because the truth was brutal and unforgiving:

This was what fear looked like on him.

The fear of losing Violet.

The fear that no strength, no strategy, and no power he possessed could protect her from this.

The fear that he might not get her back.

It was suffocating and dragged him into a dark, spiraling abyss.

He couldn’t lose Violet.

He couldn’t.

She was the reason he breathed, the reason he clawed through every day of his life, the only light that had ever cut through the shadows he’d lived in since childhood. She was the only person who had ever truly seen him.

If she died in some realm he could not reach, it wouldn’t just break him.

It would end him.

There would be no coming back from that.

And he would never forgive himself for agreeing to this insanity. For letting her step into danger he couldn’t fight beside her in.

The thought alone hollowed him out.

Then a hand clasped gently around his face and like a faint light cutting through the abyss, there she was.

Violet. Shining. His anchor.

“Shh,” she whispered softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Asher. I’m Violet, remember?”

She gave him a small, reassuring smile before pulling him into her arms.

At first, his hold on her was loose, and then, he crushed her against him, arms tightening with desperate strength. Violet gasped at the pressure, but she didn’t complain and held him just as tightly.

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent like oxygen. She smelled like home.

Like clean linen fresh from sunlight, still carrying that warmth that felt like hope.

They stayed like that for a long moment, and when he eventually drew back, the tremors had stopped. His breathing had steadied, and his mind felt clearer.

But gods, the embarrassment hit him hard.

Asher had always acted like the strongest one among them, and yet a single moment of fear had brought him crashing down.

But then Violet took Asher’s hand, and Griffin, reading the situation instantly, nudged Roman with an elbow. Roman slid over to the next chair, allowing Griffin to shift into his seat and open a space beside Asher.

Violet immediately filled it, settling next to him with their fingers intertwined.

Across from them, Alaric now sat alone, but he didn’t complain. If anything, he was relieved that everything was under control.

Seated between the West and East Alpha, Violet also reached for Griffin’s hand. Holding both of them gave her a courage she didn’t even realize she’d needed.

“How am I supposed to have the upper hand in this round?” Violet asked. “I don’t even know these ancestors you’re talking about.”

Queen Seraphira told her, “Your tutors will educate you thoroughly on our lineage and customs. They will teach you how to present yourself before the ancestors, how to speak to them, and how to appeal to their judgment.”

“Does she really have to do all this?” Roman asked, incredulous. “They’re her ancestors. Shouldn’t they be her biggest supporters? It’s already insane that the victim has to die if they don’t get approval.”

“The ancestors are ancient, Alpha Roman.” Queen Seraphira told him directly, “They are not swayed by blood alone. Power does not impress them. They value courage, loyalty, self-sacrifice, and clarity of purpose. If a descendant stands before them with nothing but truth and conviction, they will not turn away.

“Some of them ruled long before I was born. They had their own beliefs, their own standards, and they hold tightly to them. That is why Violet must appeal to them. They are wise but also stubborn.”

Roman frowned. “Still doesn’t explain the whole dying part.”

“It does,” the Queen said. “The ancestors dwell in eternal rest. Summoning them for the trial is already a grave disruption. If you face them unprepared and waste their time, then yes, the penalty is death. It is their law. The punishment is non-negotiable.”

“And are these ancestors partial to a hybrid?” Alaric asked, his tone edged with challenge. “We took the chance to look around before coming here. Your walls have ears—and mouths. We heard plenty about how the free Fae aren’t exactly welcoming to outsiders. So how do you think Violet will fare before ancient fae whose minds might be even more rigid?”

Asher muttered under his breath, barely containing his frustration. “Told you I don’t like this.”

Violet stroked his palm, slow and soothing. She had already made up her mind; nothing they said would change that.

Queen Seraphira replied, “Violet only needs the blessing of one ancestor. I refuse to believe every single one of them would be prejudiced against her.”

Alaric arched a brow, unimpressed. “Says the Queen who lived in the human realm and fell in love with a werewolf. Have you forgotten some of your people haven’t stepped foot outside this realm? Many of them died with the same beliefs they were born with. And the ancestors you speak of are thousands of years older. If the living Fae can be biased, wouldn’t the dead ones be worse?”