Accidentally Mated To Four Alphas-Chapter 255: _ To The Court

"Look where staying ’safe’ got us."

Clarissa flinches at that and instantly, Amias regrets it.

He reaches for her hand. "Mother... that wasn’t fair. I’m sorry."

She shakes her head weakly. "I know you’re hurting. But Heidi’s trouble is not yours."

"Yes," he murmurs, "it is."

He can’t abandon her. He won’t abandon her. Not after everything. Not after her lips had met his, and the bond he’s chosen to forsake, and the way she looked at him that night like he wasn’t a worthless pursuit.

Clarissa watches him, studying the pain in his face, the tired set of his shoulders. "...You love her."

It isn’t a question. Amias looks away. His lips set in a hard line. "I can’t," he says. "I’m not allowed to."

"That’s not what I asked."

He closes his eyes. Vark whimpers. Finally, he answers, quietly, like admitting a crime: "Yes."

Clarissa exhales shakily. Her chest rises, falls, and struggles. She squeezes his fingers as hard as she can — which isn’t much. "Then... love her," she whispers. "But love her... quietly."

He winces. "Mother..."

"If the others see you supporting her... publicly... they will turn against you. The council. The elders. Your father. Even the pack. You’ll lose the Alpha title. You’ll lose—"

"I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE TITLE!" he snaps.

The words shake the air. Clarissa goes still.

Amias drags a hand through his hair, breathing hard. "If you want me happy... truly happy... then let me do this. Let me stand for her today, even if it’s from a distance. I need to be there. I have to be there."

Clarissa’s lips tremble. Her eyes soften in painful surrender. She nods. "...then go."

The permission crushes him and frees him at the same time. He leans forward and presses his forehead against hers. "I’ll come back right after. I promise."

She exhales faintly, her breath ghosting over his cheek. "Amias?"

"Yes?"

"Don’t let them see your heart. Lira is the only way you’ll survive this after I’m gone. The only way to survive this pack is to stay relevant. You need Lira and that’s why I am choosing her for you. It’s either my son’s comfort or a mate bond that might one day destroy him. I want the former for you."

He understands she thinks this is best for him. Maybe it is, because there’s no way there’s a happy ending for a situation where a girl is bonded to four brothers. It just wouldn’t end well for them.

He’s already stepped down from the competition. He can only hope that one by one, the rest of his brothers decide and conclude on the best of them for her instead of hurting each other for who gets her in the end.

He can almost see the gloomy future awaiting them. Clarissa thinks he’s doing this only for her, but it’s also for Heidi. If there’s a way to minimize the guilt that’ll crush her after realizing she was the tool used to finally ruin an already crumbling family.

She’d think: at least, Amias made it out.

He looks at his mother, "Too late."

Clarissa’s fingers slip from his. Her breathing evens and her eyes close again.

Amias stays there for a long second, staring at her face — memorizing it. The curve of her cheekbone. The faint lines near her lips. The shape of her hands. The woman who raised him. The woman he didn’t get nearly enough time with. The woman is dying but still worrying about whether her son’s heart will get crushed on a courtroom floor.

Vark sighs inside him. "We’ll keep her alive as long as we can."

Amias stands. He grabs his jacket, straightens, and pulls himself together with both hands. He opens the door, pauses, looks back once more, and then leaves the room, ready for the court.

The hallway outside Clarissa’s room smells like floor polish, lavender, and old grief... the kind that clings to the walls because it’s been here longer than most of the servants. Amias shuts the door behind him quietly, like any loud sound might tear the last threads keeping his mother in this world.

"Everything feels wrong," Vark mutters inside of him.

Amias can’t help but to agree. He steps forward and barely makes it two strides before two small hurricanes slam into his peripheral vision.

"Amias!"

It’s Isolde’s high and startled voice. Daphne’s voice right after dramatically went: "Oh my goddess, finally."

They come bustling out of the east corridor, bags half-zipped, hair half-done, uniforms definitely not ironed. They skid to a stop in front of him like two badly trained pups.

He stares at them. "Aren’t you two supposed to be at school?"

They blink in perfect, suspicious unison.

Then Daphne loudly scoffs. "School? Today? Be serious."

He raises a brow. "Yes. School. That thing you two attend with your legs?"

Isolde shakes her head. "Nobody is going today."

"Half the school," Daphne corrects, lifting a finger like a professor. "Actually more than half. Maybe like seventy percent."

"Why?" Amias asks.

Daphne gives him the "Are you slow or just grieving?" look.

"Heidi’s case, duh."

The name hits his chest like a punch he wasn’t braced for. He swallows, steadying himself.

Isolde elbows her sister. "Show some respect, Daph."

"What? It’s true." Daphne waves her phone. "The school blog made like... the most insane engagement spike ever. I’m pretty sure they’ve never seen numbers like that. People were dragging Heidi so badly, you won’t believe–"

"Daphne," Amias warns gently.

She freezes... then grins. "—but don’t worry, I fixed it."

"...Fixed?" Amias echoes.

"Yeah!" Daphne brightens instantly, stepping closer. "I posted a whole breakdown defending her. Facts about Sierra, screenshots, receipts. And then I argued with literally everyone for hours. And guess what? Half the comments flipped. Like they fully turned around. Now most of the school is siding with her."

Isolde nods, arms crossed. "She actually didn’t sleep. She fought trolls all night."

Amias stares at his youngest duster. This little hellcat he always assumed was too self-absorbed to lift a finger for anyone who wasn’t her blood.

"You did that... for Heidi?"

"Obviously." Daphne flips her braid, defensive. "Since when do you think I wouldn’t? Especially when Darien specially asked me to be nice to her. And come to think of it... She’s cool. She’s weird, but cool."

A surprised laugh escapes Amias. He’s shocked, soft, grateful all at once. "Thank you," he says honestly.

Daphne blinks like she wasn’t expecting that. "Well... yeah. Sure."

Isolde hugs herself. "How’s your mother?"

That sends the smile on Amias’s face away. The question slices him open. For a second, he can’t breathe. He could lie. He could spare them the burden of the truth. He could pretend things aren’t collapsing.

But his voice comes out hoarse. "She’s... she’s not doing well."

Both girls go still. Daphne’s gum freezes mid-chew. Isolde’s eyes soften in a way that almost hurts.

"I’m sorry," Isolde murmurs. "We’re... we’re really sorry."

"Yeah," Daphne repeats quieter, fiddling with her nails. "She’s always been... complicated. But she didn’t deserve this."

That unexpected kindness nearly buckles his knees. He clears his throat instead. "You two headed anywhere?"

"To the court," Isolde answers. "We’re riding with you."

Amias nods. "Right. Let’s go."

As they head toward the front exit, the servants bow as they pass. The house feels tighter, colder, and to Amias, it feels like the walls know Clarissa’s life is slipping away.

He decides to keep his mind away from that by asking; "And where are the boys and..." He gulps. "Heidi?"

"They left about ten minutes ago," Isolde replied to him.

It pains Amias that he couldn’t be there to walk with her into the court, but what matters is being there no matter how late. Hence, he hopes that covers it.

He’s about to enter the car when he sees the Alpha.

His father stands near the stairs, dressed in a dark, immaculate suit. Shoulders broad, posture perfect, looking like a ruler who has never doubted his right to rule—which he is.

Beside him stands Elder Makar, a stiff old wolf with eyes like sharpened frost. Their heads are bent together, speaking in low tones and gesturing. No one needs to tell him before Amias knows that this is the kind of conversation that means trouble.

He stiffens, instincts flaring. Vark bares his teeth. "They’re planning something."

Amias shifts subtly, tuning his hearing up just a notch and catching scraps of intent, tone, anger...

But before the words take shape, "Amias?" Daphne says loudly right beside his ear. "Why are you standing like that? Come on, we’re late."

He grits his teeth, losing the thread. Whatever his father and the elder are plotting dissolves back into the buzz of the household.

"Nothing," he mutters. "Let’s go."

Amias slides into the driver’s seat. Isolde and Daphne climb in. The engine starts and they head toward the Pack Court — toward a day that might tear everything apart.