Chapter 78 – The Weight of Truth

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• The executioner and the Alpha King   Chapter 212: Let the Games Begin

  Eva’s point of view If it weren’t such a bad situation, I’d be laughing my ass off. I mean, seriously—this is straight out of a bad soap opera. I look at myself… and I see myself. But the moment we step into the castle courtyard, all eyes are on me like I just sprouted horns. Or worse—like I’m the impostor. Their gazes ping-pong between me and her. The girl standing beside Theo, hand in his, trying her best to look serene and innocent. Bitch, please. Theo, bless his ever-logical heart, throws up his hands. “Come on, guys. What’s so difficult? One of them is Eva, and one is not.” He turns to the girl he’s holding hands with, eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand… I can see you, I can feel that you’re Eva. But Aries—he disagrees.” Her face lights up with hope like she’s just won a damn prize. “That’s because I am Eva.” I snort. Loudly. “Right. And I’m the Queen of the Universe. Bow before me, peasants.” Theo snaps his head toward me, eyes flashing with frustration. “

• The executioner and the Alpha King   Chapter 211 – Who the Hell Is Eva?

  Theo’s point of view She’s standing there in the middle of the field—blonde hair shimmering under the afternoon sun, storm-grey eyes locked on mine, wearing the black dress she left in. She looks calm. Too calm. And I know that look—she wears it when the chaos inside her is screaming to get out. Eva. She’s right there. Of course it’s her. I take a step toward her. “That’s not her.” Aries’ voice slices through my mind like claws on stone. “What are you talking about? I blink. She’s literally standing right there.” “Look again.” My gaze shifts to the side—where the wind is softer now, and another girl stands barefoot in the grass. She’s got long black hair, wide blue eyes, and a ridiculous daisy-dotted dress . Unfamiliar. Innocent-looking. Wrong. And yet… “That’s Eva,” Aries says, voice dead serious. “I can feel her. That’s the soul we were born to protect.” Are you out of your mind? I nearly growl aloud. The girl standing in front of me is Eva. Blonde. Grey-eyed. My mate

• The executioner and the Alpha King   Chapter 210 – Just Like the Vision

  Eva’s point of view I wake up with the weight of Theo’s arm draped over my waist and his face buried in my hair, warm breath ghosting across the back of my neck. The sheets smell like him—earthy, warm, familiar. Safe. Which is ironic, considering what today holds. The party last night plays like a flickering film in my head: laughter, terrible dancing, too much cake, the feeling of being loved and, for once, allowing myself to enjoy it. And then… the after party. Just me and Theo. Skin on skin. His hands like anchors. My lips whispering things I never thought I’d say out loud. The way he touched me—like he wasn’t sure we’d get another night. He was right. “Hey,” he murmurs groggily behind me. “You’re awake.” “Barely,” I mutter. He shifts, kissing the back of my shoulder. “Good. Up. Get dressed. I have a surprise.” “I just opened my eyes, Theo. Let me enjoy this one moment of peace before the universe starts throwing knives again.” “Come on, birthday girl,” he says, sitting

• The executioner and the Alpha King   Chapter 209 – The Night Before the End of the World

  Eva’s point of view I don’t know who decided to give Trixie creative control over this “small party,” but judging by the disco lights flickering in the throne room and the life-sized cardboard cutout of me holding a sword and a cupcake, we may have slightly overshot small. There’s music echoing off the stone walls, a suspicious chocolate fountain that may or may not be liquor-infused, and someone—probably Marcus—rigged a smoke machine in the corner. The room smells like fire, frosting, and regret. Honestly? I love it. Sonia approaches with a drink in each hand and glitter on her cheek. “One of these is safe,” she says, handing me a glass. “The other will make you question your entire existence.” “Bold of you to assume I haven’t been doing that since I was three,” I reply, downing the safe one. I hope. The whole gang is here—no missions, no disguises, no death. For one night, we’re just people. Laughing, dancing, teasing each other. Pretending there’s no doom countdown ticking a

• The executioner and the Alpha King   Chapter 208 — Brunch of Misfits

  Eva’s point of view The past two weeks passed in a blur. Between decoding ancient crap, sneaking around castles at night, pretending I sleep more than three hours, and occasionally cuddling Theo like the emotionally unstable ball of knives that I am, time just slipped through my fingers. Now there are exactly two days until my birthday. And instead of feeling excited, all I feel is pressure. Thick and heavy, like someone dumped a mountain on my shoulders and said, “Good luck.” I sit at the long dining room table, poking at a lukewarm croissant and waiting for the rest of the gang. I summoned them all through the mind link for what I called a little chat. Let’s call it what it is: brunch with a side of emotional damage. The first to arrive are Sonia and Michael, walking in hand-in-hand like the poster children for post-sex bliss. Their faces are glowing. Actually glowing. It’s disgusting. I sip my coffee. “What’s up, lover birds? Somebody had a good night,” I mutter just loud eno

• The executioner and the Alpha King   Chapter 207 – “Birthday Wishes and Battlefield Promises”

  Eva’s Point of View As I step into the dining hall, the smell of toast and strong coffee hits me like a spell I never asked for. The room’s not empty, but not full either. Late breakfast crew. My people. I scan the tables, not really expecting to find anyone from our inner circle. But then I spot him—Elias, sitting alone with a half-eaten plate and his brain clearly off somewhere else. That familiar distant expression, eyes narrowed slightly like he’s solving the world’s worst puzzle in his head. A slow smile creeps onto my face as I head his way. “Morning, Junior,” I say sweetly, knowing exactly how he’ll react. His head jerks up, face scrunching into a frown. “Really, sis? Junior?” I grin and ruffle his hair, because I can. “You are a junior. And my little brother.” “Not that little,” he huffs, puffing his chest like a squirrel trying to scare a wolf. “I’m sixteen. Two years isn’t that big of a difference.” “I know,” I reply, dropping into the chair across from him