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Chapter 21:The Truce

作者: AuthorRuby
last update publish date: 2026-06-09 22:14:55

EMILY

The first thing I register is that his hair is wet.

The second thing I register is the t-shirt.

Black, plain, soft from washing, clinging to him in all the places a shirt clings to a man who just toweled off in a hurry. Across the chest. Over the shoulders. A patch at his hip where the water from his hair has bled through. His feet are bare.

The third thing I register is the glasses.

He is wearing them. Actually wearing them, perched on the bridge of his nose, the black frames catching th
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  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 93: Trust me

    

EMILY


Fashion Week night smells like hairspray and nerves and the particular electricity of thirty people crammed into a space designed for ten, all of them moving too fast and talking too loud and checking their phones every forty seconds.


Derek is at the garment rack with a steamer in one hand and a lint roller in the other, pressing and rolling and muttering about a crease on the charcoal blazer that nobody can see except him.


"Priya, the hem on the green dress is pulling left," he calls across the room.


"It's not pulling left."


"It's pulling. I can see it from here."


"Then stop looking from there and come look from here where it's straight."


"If I come over there the blazer wrinkles."


"Then the blazer wrinkles, Derek."


They've been doing this for two hours, this back-and-forth that sounds like fighting and is really the sound of two people who care about the same thing being terrified it won't be perfect. I've learned to let them run. Derek catches what Priya m

  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 92: Touch

    He kisses me. Soft at first. Tasting like lime and chili. Then his hand slides to the back of my neck and the softness burns away and my hand finds his chest and his heart is hammering under my palm.
He pulls back. “There’s a dressing room behind you.”
“I know. I work here.”
“Is it unlocked?”
“We can’t—”
“Is it unlocked, Emily?”
His eyes are dark. The gold pressing through.
“It’s unlocked.”
He pulls me to my feet. Across the studio. Through the dressing room door. Small, dim, mirrors on three walls, a cushioned bench along the back. The door closes and his hands are on my waist and he lifts me and my back hits the mirror and the glass is cold through my shirt and his mouth is hot on my neck and I wrap my legs around his waist and grip his hair.
“We have to be quiet,” I say.
“Nobody’s here.”
“The security guard—”
“Doesn’t care.” He bites the spot below my ear and my hips rock against him and the sound I make isn’t quiet at all.
He carries me to the bench. Sets me down. Pulls my shirt o

  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 91: Trap

    

EMILY
Nick is in my kitchen drying dishes while I sketch four dresses that will tell me who I can’t trust.
Mia is asleep. Mason is in his room counting Legos that Mia definitely rearranged. The apartment is quiet except for the scratch of my pencil and the soft clink of plates.
“I’m going to find the leak tomorrow,” I say.
He sets a plate on the rack. “How?”
“Four sketches. Four different finale dresses. I show each person privately, tell them it’s the real closer, tell them to keep it between us.” I finish the line on the third dress and start the fourth. “Whichever one shows up outside my studio tells me who’s been talking.”
Nick picks up another plate. Dries it slowly. “Who are you testing?”
“Priya. June. Lucia.” I add the hemline. “And Derek.”
“You said three names and added Derek like an afterthought.”
“Because he is one. I don’t need to check Derek.”
Nick sets the plate down. Doesn’t pick up another.
“Emily.”
“He’s been with me since the beginning. He was there when the

  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 90: Price of Happiness

    

EMILY


Mason is sitting on my cutting table eating a peanut butter sandwich and supervising my hem work with the critical eye of a five-year-old who has opinions about fabric.


"That part is wobbly," he says, pointing at the seam I just pinned.


"It's not wobbly. It's gathered."


"What's gathered?"


"It's when you make the fabric bunch on purpose so it looks—"


"Wobbly."


Mia is on the floor beside him, cross-legged, drawing wolves on the back of my pattern paper. She's drawn fourteen so far. Each one has a name written underneath in her careful, crooked handwriting. The latest wolf is pink with yellow eyes and is labeled AUNT SAGE.


"Wolves aren't pink, Mia," Mason says.


"This one is."


"That's not how biology works."


"It's how ART works."


"Art should be accurate."


"Art should be PRETTY." She holds up the drawing. "Is this pretty?"


Mason looks at it for a long time. "The eyes are good."


"Thank you."


"The body is wrong."


"MASON."


"I said the eyes are good.

  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 89: Real

    NICKI hit the tarmac with Mason in my arms and my bare feet on the cold ground and I don't feel the cold. I don't feel anything except his arms around my neck and his heartbeat against my chest and the wet of his tears on my shoulder."I've got you," I say into his hair. "I've got you, buddy. You're safe."He's shaking. His whole small body is shaking against me and his fingers are dug into my shoulders and he won't let go. He's not supposed to let go. He can hold on as long as he needs to."You came," he says. Muffled against my neck. "You came, you came.""I'll always come. I told you. I promised."Headlights sweep across the tarmac. A car pulls up fast and the doors open before it stops moving. Emily is out first, running, her feet slapping the pavement, and she reaches us and her hands are on Mason's back and in his hair and on his face and she's checking him everywhere, her fingers gentle on his cheek where the red mark is."Baby," she says. Her voice breaks. "Oh, baby, your fac

  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 88: Safe

    MASONThe car stops and Jessica pulls me out and we’re somewhere with little planes.Not the big airport where Dad took me once to watch planes land. A small place with a fence and a gate and a man who waves Jessica through without checking anything. It’s dark and the lights on the ground are blue and white and the planes are small, the kind with stairs that fold down from the door.Jessica is pulling my arm and walking fast and I have to run to keep up because her legs are longer and she’s not slowing down. The suitcase is rolling behind her on the pavement, bumping over cracks.A car is parked beside one of the planes. A man is leaning against it. When we get closer I see him and my stomach drops because I know him.Alex.He looks different. Tired. His clothes are wrinkled and he hasn’t shaved and he’s looking at Jessica the way Mrs. Park looks at kids who do something dangerous on the playground.“This is a very stupid thing you’re doing, Jessica,” Alex says.“Move.”“You hit him.

  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 64: Pancakes

    I set my coffee down. My hand isn’t steady. “How do you know this?”“I went to see him. After the school, after what his man did to Mia at the fence. Cole found him. I went to his hotel room.” He holds my eyes. “I punched him.”“You punched my father.”“In the face. Yes.”“When were you planning to

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    EMILYNick is making pancakes in my kitchen at 7 AM, and I’m trying very hard to be a functioning adult about it.He showed up for the bond session twenty minutes ago with Mason half-asleep on his hip and a bag of groceries. Walked straight past me into the kitchen like he lived here. Didn’t ask if

  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 62: My family

    EMILYThe hallway outside my apartment has a new man standing in it.Not Nick. Someone I don’t recognise, tall, earpiece, standing beside my door with his hands clasped and the blank patience of someone who gets paid to be a wall.“Ms. Hale,” he says. Nods once.Inside, the apartment smells like ga

  • RECLAIMED BY THE ALPHA: THE ALPHA’S HIDDEN HEIR   Chapter 60: Suppress

    NICKMia’s hand is on my chest, her small palm flat against my sternum with her fingers spread wide like she’s trying to hold as much of me as she can reach. Her eyes are open. She’s not sleeping tonight, just lying against me on the couch watching the ceiling and humming something tuneless while t

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