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The fall and the catch

Penulis: Vexa Moon
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-10-27 23:51:48

Esme

The hall smells of oil, smoke, and pride. The council has been talking for hours, words stacked like stones no one dares to lift and King Ardon sits at the head table, his crown set aside, one hand resting against his knee. He looks calm enough to make others forget calm can break.

I stand behind the lower dais with the other servers. My fingers ache from holding the platter too long but Marek said to stay invisible, and I’ve done that my whole life. But every eye in this room cuts like glass, and every breath I take feels loud.

A scribe moves along the wall, collecting notes. The balcony above him groans, faint, but enough for the guards near the doors to glance up. No one speaks of it, and the council keeps arguing. Varick pounds his fist, Thalos sneers, and Lady Selene leans in her chair, her silk sleeve brushing the floor.

Then the groan turns into a crack. A beam splits, dust falls like gray snow and the scribe looks up too late.

The balcony gives.

Instinct moves before thou
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  • Mated to the Alpha King    Under the antechamber

    ArdonThe report sits on my desk like a folded thing that won’t lie. The wax is stamped with the guard captain’s signet and the words inside are clumsy, defensive even. They name times wrong and pin the wrong steps to the wrong people. I read it twice, then once more for habit, looking for the tremor in the ink that tells me who leaned on the pen.Someone wrote it for them, of that I’m sure. I stand and fold the paper along its crease until the fibers complain. The hearth throws a small orange across the floor and I drop the note into the brazier and watch it blacken. The heat eats the paper, the curl of smoke moves up the chimney and leaves the room cleaner for a moment.'They lie,' Korrath says. 'The scent of a hand not your own.''I know,' I answer. 'Find the path. Circle the exits.'I grab my cloak. Darian is already in the corridor, waiting with his hand braced on the stair rail. He doesn’t ask why I move, he only falls into step beside me and his boots are soft on the stone. We

  • Mated to the Alpha King    The snare

    SeleneMidnight plans are cleaner than daytime ones. Daylight invites witnesses who ask questions, darkness answers only to the person who moves with a purpose.I sit at my desk with the small vial resting near my ink pot and the glass holds a thin liquid that coats the walls slowly when turned. It smells faintly of bitter almond and poppy, and I know Jorin used something similar on battlefield patients to keep them pliant during stitching. In larger measure, it blurs judgment. In enough measure, it kills.Last night was a trial run, tonight is the real deal. She must go before she gets too valuable. My quill scratches across parchment, each stroke is neat. I use the King’s signature line at the bottom but leave the ink lighter, as if the quill skipped. Enough resemblance, not enough for real scrutiny.Esme.Come to the council antechamber at the turn of midnight.Bring the sealed vial placed under your pillow.Do not speak of this summons.- A.No flourishes, no title. It will be re

  • Mated to the Alpha King    Doubt's hook (Part two)

    Esme The step returns in the opposite direction, a retreat that sounds like a thought changing its mind. Then nothing. My chest loosens and I let my shoulders settle against the wall while I keep the knife in my hand.The next visitor comes because he is meant to. Two quick knocks, a pause then two more. Dav.“Water?” he asks through the wood.“I have it,” I say.“Good. I’ll be at the turn. Holler if you need.” Footsteps return to the corner. The low scrape of a stool legs onto stone. He sits, he coughs once and the sound echoes thin down the hall.An hour passes and the candle burns down to half. The pantry warms under its own held air and sleep hovers but doesn’t land. There’s shuffling in the corridor again, different weights. Two knocks, a pause, two more. Softer this time.“Dav?” I ask.No answer. I stand and move to the door without putting my feet where the boards squeak and I press my ear against the wood. The breaths on the other side are too steady for Dav. A soft scuff, l

  • Mated to the Alpha King    Doubt's hook (Part one)

    EsmeGuilt waits the moment I close my eyes. My mother’s face fills the dark, the bruise under her left eye the last time I saw her, the way she held her breath when Baldric walked past. I open my eyes again and scrub trays until the sting in my palms drowns the rest. Steam lifts from the wash basin, the metal groans when I press hot pans too hard against its sides. My sleeves stick to my arms and the hiss of water covers the churn in my stomach long enough to think straight.'You didn’t cut her chain today by cutting yourself,' Nysera says, steady and close.'He’ll hurt her anyway,' I answer. 'He’ll do it because I didn’t bow when Rastin smiled.''Truth isn’t changed by looking away,' she says. 'But action must be chosen well.'I set a clean tray on the rack and reach for the next as the kitchen moves in a tight rhythm around me. Knives knock, ovens thrum and Marek’s voice pushes everything forward.“Salt,” he calls. “And someone watches the back entrance. We’re not a market stall.”

  • Mated to the Alpha King    Against the chain

    EsmeThe letter waits under my pillow in the east servant’s wing, the paper smells faintly of oil and damp earth. I don’t need to read it to know who sent it and my stomach knots before I unfold it. The first line is the same as the last one he wrote; You forget who owns your blood.I tear it in half before the next word, the sound is small but clean and the pieces fall to the floor and stay there. My hands don’t shake this time as rage steadies them. Fear never did.'Good,' Nysera says, steady inside me. 'We choose our own work.'“I won’t follow him again,” I whisper to the room and the air in the room feels heavy, like it’s listening.I slide the torn paper into the wash basin, strike the flint, and hold the flame to the corner. The smoke curls, sharp and thin, it stings my eyes and when the paper is gone, I grind the ash with my thumb until it mixes with the soot already there.Sleep doesn’t come after that. I lie on the narrow bed and watch the window turn gray. The fever has brok

  • Mated to the Alpha King    Schemes and suspicions

    SeleneThe memory of him carrying her will not leave my mind. Every whisper in the hall feeds it, each servant repeating the same words with awe they don’t deserve to feel. The King lifted her. He carried her like she mattered. Their mouths move around her name like it’s holy. It makes my stomach turn.I keep my smile fixed because rage must never show in public. Rage is for corridors and rooms with locked doors. In the council chamber, the morning light cuts across the table and I glide to my seat as if nothing is wrong. My gown rustles, silk layered thick enough to armor me. The men rise when I pass as they always do. Power has its habits.Mirelle leans close when I sit. “The gossip is wild already,” she says, soft but eager. “Half the maids say he kept her in his own room.”“He didn’t,” I answer, too quickly. The denial slips like blood through a cut and Mirelle smiles at that.“She won’t last long,” she purrs. “They never do.” Her voice is smooth and her perfume heavy. It should

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