LOGINShare
FOUR: The Alpha King
publish date:
2025-05-26 12:20:43The first thing I register is the cold.
Not the kind that pricks your skin or sends shivers down your spine. No, this is deeper. It’s the kind that settles in your bones and makes everything feel like it’s not yours. My body, the air, the stillness. Nothing fucking feels like mine anymore.
My head throbs. It feels like a jackhammer took a personal interest in my skull.
I blink. Once. Twice.
I look around my surroundings. The floor. I’m in my house. Then I realize—I can’t fucking move.
What the—where’s that psycho killer? I was in the woods? What happened? How did I get here? How did I—ah!
My arms are yanked back behind the chair I’m in, wrists locked with something metallic. It’s not silver, thankfully. I try to twist, but there's no give. Steel. Chains. My ankles are tied too. Not tight enough to cut circulation, but firm enough that struggling just makes me look stupid.
My kitchen light is on. It’s that flickering bulb I’ve been too broke to fix for weeks. I’m still in my apartment. The peeling wallpaper. The mildew stain shaped like Italy on the ceiling. All of it’s here.
Except now there are two strangers sitting in my living room.
Well. Fuck me sideways.
One of them’s lounging on my couch like it’s his goddamn throne. Legs spread, arms draped, head tilted slightly like he’s amused just watching me breathe. He’s in a black button-down shirt, unbuttoned just enough to scream, yes, I do kill people for fun, but also I moisturize. His hair’s tied back in a loose knot. Beard trimmed. Smiling—but not the good kind. The kind that says I know something you don’t, bitch.
The other one stands by the window. Arms crossed. Silent. Sterner face, clean-shaven, taller by maybe half an inch, but he looks like he could break a man with his fucking glare alone.
“Morning, sunshine,” Couch Bastard purrs.
I blink again. No. Not morning. My windows are blacked out. It’s night. Whatever day it is.
“What the actual fuck,” I rasp. My voice sounds like I swallowed glass and chased it with whiskey. “What is this? Who the hell are you? Why the fuck am I tied up?”
No answer. Just that same fucking smirk.
“Oh, I get it,” I mutter. “You two broke into my house, tied me up, and now you’re playing the silent intimidation game. Classy. What is this, American Psycho? You guys role-playing serial killer kink together? Are you together with my neighbor?”
“You’re mouthy,” the couch one says, grinning wider now.
“You broke into my house and chained me to a chair, you dumb fuck. What did you expect, a thank-you note?”
He laughs. The bastard laughs.
But then—
I go still.
The scent hits me like a punch in the gut.
Earth. Blood. Something ancient. My nose flares.
No. No fucking way.
They’re wolves. They’re werewolves like me. Like Dante. What are they doing outside their borders?
My spine stiffens, and I feel the tremble creep into my fingers. I was relieved thinking their humans. No matter how weak I am as a wolf, at least I know I would withstand any human. I’m still a lot stronger.
But all that drains now that I know they’re the same as me.
“You’re . . .” I start, then stop, because what the hell is there to say? I haven’t scented another wolf in over two years. Not since the day I was dragged out of the pack clinic and thrown over the border like trash. My wolf hasn’t come back since.
And now earlier, or last night, or was it the other night that I sensed Dante’s powerful pheromone in the woods. How long was I out?
Which means these fuckers are dangerous, and I have nothing to defend myself with.
“What do you want from me?” I snap, suddenly much quieter. My mouth is still running, but my instincts are in survival mode now. “I don’t have my wolf. I’m not even in the pack anymore. If you’re looking for leverage or something—I’m not it.”
Couch Guy leans forward, lacing his fingers like he’s about to deliver a goddamn sermon. “Oh, we’re not here for leverage. You’re not important enough for that.”
“Thanks,” I deadpan. Fuck you, you bastard.
He chuckles again. “We’re here because we have a problem. And you, darling, are the idiot who made that problem worse.”
I narrow my eyes. “I didn’t do anything.”
The one by the window finally speaks. His voice is calm, precise. “You pushed someone off a cliff.”
My stomach lurches. “He . . .” I emphasized, “-was going to kill me.”
“You still pushed him off a cliff.”
“I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry if I was trying to survive!” I shoot back. “I thought he was some psychotic murderer in the woods—which, spoiler alert, he fucking was.”
The couch guy raises an eyebrow. “And you think that justifies trying to kill the Alpha King?”
Silence.
Everything stills.
My lungs don’t work. My pulse spikes so fast it’s all I can hear—drumming in my ears, thumping against my ribs like a wild animal trying to escape.
“You’re lying.” I chuckle humorlessly. “He’s not.” I shake my head.
“Nope.” Couch Guy pops the p as if this is some casual fucking conversation. “You tried to murder Dante Morelli.”
The room tilts.
No—no, not just the room. The floor underneath me vanishes.
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
The guy by the window steps forward, gaze unreadable. “And the only reason you’re still breathing is because we’re still trying to figure out how the fuck he survived that fall.”
I can’t hear them anymore. Everything’s a low buzzing hum.
Dante Morelli. The Alpha King.
I saw him kill someone. I pushed him off a cliff. And now he’s—
Alive.
And I’m so unbelievably fucked.
“The Alpha King . . .” I whisper, throat dry. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know who he was.”
Couch guy stands now, sauntering toward me like he’s got all the time in the world. “That’s the funny thing. Most humans don’t. Which is why we dumped him here. Where he could tear through your kind instead of ours.”
My voice cracks. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Latest chapter
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King NINETY-EIGHT: Epilogue
FIVE YEARS LATERGerald is on the counter again.I know this before I even come downstairs because I can hear Dante saying “get down” in the voice he uses when he has already said it four times and is now simply saying it for the record, knowing full well it will accomplish nothing.Gerald has never once in five years gotten down from anywhere voluntarily.I come into the kitchen.Gerald is on the counter.Dante is at the stove. He’s in a grey shirt—always a grey shirt, I have stopped questioning this, I believe he has forty of them—and he is making breakfast with one hand and gesturing at the cat with the other, and Gerald is sitting directly next to the chopping board with the supreme unbothered energy of a cat who knows he is untouchable.He is untouchable because Daxton will riot if anyone moves him.“Morning,” I say.Dante looks at me over his shoulder. The look he gives me every morning, the one that still does something to my central nervous system even after all this time, war
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King NINETY-SEVEN: Home
“Say that again,” I say.Dante doesn’t answer. He’s looking at the phone like it’s something that bit him, and for a man who walked out of a warehouse full of people who wanted him dead approximately four minutes ago looking completely unbothered, the fact that a phone call is doing this to his face tells me everything.“Dante.” I put my hand on his arm. “Say that again.”“Judge Callum Sorin,” he says. “My father.”I stare at him.“Your father,” I repeat. “Is a corrupt judge. Who was working with the people who tried to have you killed. Who is now calling you directly after we just sent evidence of his crimes to a journalist.”“Yes.”“And he’s Daxton’s grandfather.”“Biologically.”“Dante.”“I know.”The phone is still ringing.“Are you going to answer it?” I ask.He looks at me. Then he picks up.He doesn’t say anything. He just waits.A voice comes through the speaker, older, clipped, the voice of a man who has spent decades being the most important person in every room he enters. “
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King NINETY-SIX: Tonight We End It
“How is that possible?” I say. “Your people aren’t in position yet. You said seven.”“I know what I said.” Dante is already texting. Both thumbs, fast, the phone Rafe handed over replaced with his own. “They moved because Rafe’s call spooked them. They think we’re onto the location.”“We are onto the location.”“They don’t know that yet. They just know something shifted.” He looks up. “My people can be there in forty. The Kavris will be set up in twenty.”I do that math. “That’s a twenty minute gap.”“Yes.”“Dante—”“I know.”“That’s twenty minutes of you walking into a room full of people who want you dead with no backup and a hard drive they’re going to take the second they see it.”“They won’t see it,” he says. “Because you’re not bringing it in.”I stare at him. “What?”“The drive stays with you. Outside.” He holds my eyes. “You are my backup. If I’m not out in twenty minutes, you send it. I set up a journalist contact years ago, a dead drop, it auto-submits if I trigger it from m
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King NINETY-FIVE: Don't You Touch Him
I stare at him for another full minute.He doesn’t move. His sides rise and fall, the bandaging still clean and pale against all that black fur. The early light through the cabin’s one window cuts across the floor and lands just short of him, like even the sun is a little bit wary.You need to leave, I tell myself. Right now. Before he wakes up.But I grab the old wool blanket from the cot in the corner anyway and I spread it over him. As carefully as I can. He shifts once and I freeze, but he doesn’t wake.I back out of the cabin.Then I run.I run as far as I can* * *My father is already yelling before I get the door open.I slip into the kitchen, tie my hair back up from where it’d fallen loose, and get the pan on before he gets to the part of the yelling where he starts throwing things. Eggs. He likes his eggs over easy. If I break the yolk he makes me do it again. I’ve learned not to break the yolk.“Where were you?”“Out early.” I keep my back to him. “Sit down Sir, it’s
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King NINETY-FOUR: Trusting the Wrong Person
“Rafe,” I say.Dante doesn’t answer.Which is its own answer.I look in the side mirror. The second car is still there, two lengths behind us, keeping pace. Rafe behind the wheel, both hands visible, completely normal, completely calm.The way he’s been the entire time.“Tell me I’m wrong,” I say.Dante is quiet for a long moment. “You’re not wrong.”“Dante—”“The way Vera knew we were at the mall,” he says. Low. Controlled. Like he’s working through it in real time and not loving where it lands. “She had a photo within the hour. We didn’t tell anyone where we were going. Only Rafe knew.”“He could have had someone watching the house.”“The voicemail,” Dante says. “That night. It came three hours after we arrived at the mansion. Vera needed an inside location to send that fast. Someone told her the address the moment we pulled through the gate.”I think about Rafe at the mansion. First on the perimeter. First through the back door. First to say he’s back in the foyer while Vera was st
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King NINETY-THREE: The Old House
“Strangers,” Dante says.“A couple. Young. I think they have a cat.” I watch his face. “I’m sorry, did you want me to have kept the house I shared with the man I thought I’d accidentally killed?”He looks at me for a second. “Fair.”“Thank you.”“We’re still going.”“I know we are.”Daxton looks up from the couch. “Are we going on a road trip?”“Yes,” Dante says.“Can we stop for snacks?”“Daxton—” I start.“Yes,” Dante says.Daxton pumps his fist.I grab the wolf plushie off the cushion beside him and hand it over. “Shoes. Right feet this time.”He looks down. Looks back up. “I was testing you.”“Sure you were.”Rafe meets us at the car.He’s already heard — Dante called him on the way down Marcus’s stairs, two minutes, short sentences, the kind of conversation where both people already know the shape of the problem and just need to confirm the details. Now Rafe is leaning against the passenger door with his arms crossed and the expression he wears when he’s about to say something Da
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King SEVENTY-NINE: Dinner!
The noise around us continues—kids shrieking, parents chatting, the general chaos of two hundred people trying to exist in one space—but our little bubble of awkwardness gets quieter somehow.Dante breaks the silence first. “He’s a good kid.”I glance at him, surprised by the softness in his voice.
Last Updated : 2026-04-03Nursing the Murderer Alpha King EIGHTY-ONE: Missing
“You mentioned he’s been too thin. That he’s not eating well.” Dante leans forward, and there’s genuine concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong with him, Eris?”I exhale shakily, the panic attack that was building in my chest deflating like a punctured balloon. He doesn’t know. He saw Daxton’s face and
Last Updated : 2026-04-03Nursing the Murderer Alpha King SEVENTY-EIGHT: Mothers and Masks
I cross the room in what I hope looks like a casual stride but probably reads more like a hostage situation sprint.My hand closes around Dante’s wrist just as his fingers begin to lift the edge of Daxton’s mask.“We need to go,” I say, my voice coming out too bright, too sharp. “Right now.”Dante’
Last Updated : 2026-04-03Nursing the Murderer Alpha King SEVENTY-FOUR: Parent's Day
Fuck.The word echoes in my head like a prayer to a god who stopped listening years ago. We're inches apart—maybe less—and I can feel the heat radiating off him like he's the sun and I'm Icarus with melted wings and a death wish.I jerk backward so fast I nearly fall on my ass, scrambling away from
Last Updated : 2026-04-02
You may also like
Mated To Big Brother-in-law
AlisTae920.6K viewsThe Lycan's Rejected Mate
Sunshine Princess799.9K viewsThe Alpha King's Hated Slave
Kiss Leilani1.3M viewsChosen By The Moon
LycanNS540.8K viewsTHE ALPHA WHO REJECTED ME
Phoebe 304 viewsHis Little Hybrid Pet
Agnes Calamity213 viewsReborn As The True Luna
Ahsia Risan493 viewsMARKED BY THE THREE ALPHAS
Icy Angel146 views
