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2025-03-02 18:27:44
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The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna EIGHTY SEVEN
EZRA’s POVWe are in the tactical room.The room is tense, dimly lit by the low flicker of wall sconces with shadows stretching like fingers across the stone walls and dancing over maps and weapons. The scent of old parchment hangs thick in the air, mingling with the tang of steel and the sour musk of sweat.A long oak table dominates the room, scarred with age and battle plans. Maps lie sprawled across it, creased, frayed at the edges and some stained with what might be blood or wine.My fingers trace a jagged red border scrawled over the Northlands and pause on a cluster of black Xs where the kill zone is.Colin leans against the far wall, his frame half-shrouded in shadow. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, his eyes flick back and forth across the maps with restless calculation. He has never been as serious as he is today and that is saying a lot.Around the table, six of my best sit like statues, all silent,
The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna EIGHTY SIX
ALAYNA’s POVIt is cold here in the forest. You would expect the air beneath the canopy to be warmer, but the chill seeps into everything. The temperature has been dropping over the past few days, and today it feels more biting than ever.I tug my winter coat tighter around me, burying my hands into the wool-lined sleeves as I step past the tree line. Snow crunches beneath my boots, a little louder than I would like and each sound echoes like a warning to every shadow listening.Suddenly I have to wonder if I made the right choice going into the forest by myself. For one, I am unarmed and two, I have no wolf. But I ask myself, what would a warrior do? When the silence stretches and doubt creeps in, that question lingers.Am I loyal, brave, and true? I want to believe I am. I need to.So I keep going. Here is too much at stake here. So even if I am out in the open, with no one to save me, I will stand, I will be
The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna EIGHTY FIVE
ALAYNA’s POVThe moment I walk through the cottage door, I am hit with the overwhelming smell of fresh bread, yeasty, warm and clingy like a blanket straight from the oven. Father has been busy in the kitchen again. My heart softens instantly and I smile.“Alayna!” my father calls from the kitchen, his face lighting up as if it is the first time he has seen me in years. Which, in his mind, it might be.He is wearing his apron backwards with the knot tied in front like a ribbon and there is flour smudged on the tip of his nose. In his thin frail hands, he holds out a loaf of bread for me to see.“Are you hungry?” he asks cheerfully. “I made bread. You used to love my bread. You remember?”“Yes, I remember,” I say as I walk toward him. And this time, I really do. I loved his bread as a child.He smiles a toothless smile and proudly thrusts the loaf toward me.
The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna EIGHTY FOUR
ALAYNA’s POVEzra brings me to the meadows, he does not speak and I do not press him. The quiet feels right anyway and I take in the sight that stretches out before us like a sea of gold, with the tall grasses swaying in rhythm with the wind.The sun hangs low in the sky like a molten orb slipping behind distant hills, bleeding oranges and pinks into the clouds.I breathe in deeply. The air is soft and cool, a stark difference from the night when Drake burned down everything.I take a peek at him as we walk. His presence calms the storm in my chest, even if I still do not know what to make of this strange ache that lingers inside me whenever he is near.We finally reach a large boulder nestled among a cluster of smaller stones, half-covered in moss and warmth from the sun. Ezra helps me climb onto it and then settles beside me, our shoulders almost touching. I let my feet dangle, brushing the soft meadow below.
The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna EIGHTY THREE
ALAYNA’s POVThe screams reach me before I see him.They curl up the stone staircase of the dungeon like smoke, thick and shrill and I have to pause when I reach the landing. Mustachio who guards the cell door sees me and quickly presses a finger to his lips, signalling for me to keep quiet.I nod and take in a deep breath. I do not like the smell. The scent of blood lingers. Old, settled blood from the walls and fresh, wet blood from the man behind the door them.Carlos. Golden Eye. The one who tried to kidnap me.A crackle of flame sounds from behind the door and I press my ear towards the metal door, feeling the coolness of the iron seep into my skin. Mustachio leans in to listen too and from behind the door, we hear someone move. Colin, maybe.“He’s not talking, Ezra. Seems like he’s not scared of the whip. Should I continue?” It is definitely Colin’s voice. He sounds fru
The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna EIGHTY TWO
DRAKE’s POVThe Southlands are too quiet.Every snapped twig beneath my boots feels like a warning. I keep low, eyes scanning through the dense fog tangled in pine needles. The cold is a living thing, clinging to my skin and burning in my lungs. I can still taste the metallic edge of blood and adrenaline from our escape.Damn you, Ezra. You should have just stayed dead.Carlos trails behind me, ten paces back,his movements tight and cautious. “We should’ve gone east,” he hisses, scanning the shadows. “Too many patrols this close to the mountain spine.”I do not answer him. We both know I have led us straight into danger but admitting it tastes too much like defeat and I have had my fill of that."They’re closing in on us,” he continues, his eyes shifting from left to right and I catch sight of his golden iris.Golden Eye.He earned that name lo
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