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Chapter Forty-one
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2026-07-05 20:46:53
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The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Forty-one
Maryelle’s POV The morning of the trial’s climax begins not in the courtroom, but in chaos. As Phantom and I step into the palace corridor, a shout erupts from the crowd gathered outside. “She’s the guilty one!” A man breaks through the line of nobles and attendants, his face twisted with rage. His eyes lock on me, and before I can react, he lunges. I stumble back, heart hammering, the world narrowing to his outstretched hand. His voice is venom, spitting accusations. “She killed! She’s the aberration! She should be on trial!” The guards move fast. The sound of steel clashing as they intercept him, pinning his arms, dragging him down. He thrashes, screaming, “Canum is innocent! She’s the monster!” His words echo through the corridor, sharp and accusatory. My breath catches. For a moment, I feel exposed, stripped bare before the crowd. The whispers ripple—some shocked, some agreeing, some silent but watching. Phantom is there instantly. His body shields mine, his arm wr
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Forty
Maryelle’s POV The morning before the trial’s climax, the palace feels heavy with silence. Every corridor hums with anticipation, every servant’s step echoes like a warning. I wake restless, my stomach knotted, my thoughts circling the lies Canum spun yesterday. Phantom is already gone when I rise, summoned to confer with the defense team. I dress slowly, hands trembling, until a knock sounds at the door. It’s Queen Dowager Margaret. Phantom’s mother. She enters with the grace of someone who has carried kingdoms on her shoulders. Her presence fills the room, not with intimidation, but with warmth. She takes my hands in hers, her touch firm, grounding. “My dear,” she says softly, her voice like velvet over steel. “I know yesterday was unbearable. I saw the way Canum twisted truth into performance. But you must remember—lies are fragile. They shatter when pressed against the weight of truth.” Her eyes, sharp and kind all at once, hold mine. “You are stronger than you bel
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-nine
Maryelle’s POV The first day of the trial feels like stepping into a nightmare. The chamber is packed—nobles, jurors, guards, all eyes fixed on the man at the center. Canum. He looks the epitome of innocence. Dressed in a white tunic and matching pants, he almost appears angelic. It pisses me off. My nails dig into my palms as I fight the urge to scream to everyone in this courtroom: the devil was once depicted as an angel. He shocks the room with his opening words. Calm, measured, almost tender. “I have never hurt Maryelle,” he says, voice carrying like a sermon. “I tried to save her from the weresnakes. But she… she went on a rampage. A murder spree that injured my nephew Phantom and killed werecoyotes. Not by choice, but because of what the weresnakes turned her into.” Gasps ripple through the chamber. My stomach twists. He’s weaving lies into silk, and the jury listens as if it’s gospel. At some point, he turns to me, his eyes soft, his tone dripping false compassi
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-eight-and-a-half
Maryelle’s POV Rome feels colder than I remember. The air is heavy, the streets louder, every sound sharper. Phantom walks beside me, his hand steady at my back, but the weight pressing down isn’t his—it’s the trial. It’s Canum. We’re ushered into a chamber lined with books and polished wood, the kind of room meant to intimidate. Phantom’s legal team waits—three men and one woman, all sharp suits and sharper eyes. They rise when we enter, bowing slightly to him, then turning their attention to me. “Princess Maryelle,” one of them says, voice clipped but respectful. “We’re here to ensure justice is served.” I nod, though my throat feels tight. Phantom sits close, his knee brushing mine, a silent anchor. The scent of parchment and ink mixes with the faint tang of polished brass, and I feel the weight of centuries pressing in from the walls. The team begins laying out evidence—witness accounts, sworn statements, fragments of reports. Each piece feels like a weapon, carefully
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-eight
Phantom’s POV The note from my mother burns in my pocket like a brand. I’ve read it twice, each word carved into me: Canum has gathered his supporters. The nobles demand a trial. They insist judgment must come from peers, not from an upset and confused nephew wearing the crown. I know what it means. I know what it will cost. But tonight, I refuse to let it steal her smile. The morning begins with sunlight spilling across the coast. I wake early, restless, and plan every detail. If Maryelle must return to Rome for the trial, then before that shadow falls, she deserves a day that feels like ours alone. I take her to the cliffs first. The sea crashes against stone, spray catching the wind. She laughs when it hits her face, hair whipping wild, eyes bright. She grips my hand, tugging me closer to the edge, daring me to feel the rush with her. I watch her, memorizing the sound, the sight, the way she throws her arms wide as if daring the ocean to take her. I want to hold that mome
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-seven
Maryelle’s POV I close my eyes, chasing silence. My breath steadies—inhale, exhale—until the palace walls dissolve, until the noise of reporters and Phantom’s silence fade. I tell myself this is meditation, a way to stop overthinking, to quiet the storm. But the quiet doesn’t stay empty. It thickens. A hum rises beneath my skin, metallic and alive, vibrating through bone. My pulse stutters. The air feels charged, as if the world itself is holding its breath. Then I see it. A figure forms in the dark—tall, gleaming, forged from shadow and steel. Its body is both armor and wound, edges sharp, surface fractured, light glinting off seams that look like scars. Its eyes burn with a cold fire, not cruel, but ancient. “You called me,” the voice reverberates, not spoken but felt, echoing inside my chest. “I didn’t,” I whisper. “I was only trying to clear my head.” “You are me. I am you. There is no clearing without facing.” My throat tightens. “What about her? My werec
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Nineteen
My phone buzzes, slicing through the quiet morning. Outside, cicadas drone in the Georgia heat, their rhythm pressing against the stillness. Al squints at the screen from her bunk bed, hair tangled from sleep. “Who’s calling you at seven in the morning?” Israfil’s name glows. My chest tightens. M
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Seventeen
My stomach claws at itself, twisting, tearing. Acid scorches my throat; I retch into porcelain, praying for escape from my own body. The sound ricochets—metallic, hollow—like the palace itself is listening, every tile a witness to my collapse. Breath splinters, pulse hammering bone, desperate to br
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Fifteen
“You look even better up close,” he drawls, that Midwestern accent curling around the words. “Huh?” “You’re the girl of my dreams,” Jared Beaumont says matter‑of‑factly. That has to be the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard. “You can’t be serious. Who has that line ever worked on?” Only
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Fourteen
Alfie arrives at my door four hours later. It’s a quarter past seven, the sun sinking behind a horizon of clouds in a rosy‑gold wash. “Your Highness,” he says with a bow. “Alfie, it’s Maryelle. And please—don’t do that. I’m not a royal, and it’s strange when you bow for me. Really awkward.” H
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