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THIRTY ONE
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2025-04-08 07:00:32ALAYNA’s POV
It is a nightmare. But I do not know that. It is often this way with bad dreams.
It is dark and a mist, thick and heavy has descended.
I see Ezra. He is walking away from me, his broad back framed by the mist, the distance growing between us with each passing second.
“Ezra!” I shout his name but no sound comes out of my mouth.
My hand goes to my throat. Am I mute again?
Why can I not make a sound?
“Ezra!” I call out. Again…no sound.
And Ezra does not turn. He just keeps walking.
Please! Don’t leave!
But he doesn’t hear me, and the further he gets, the more desperate I become. I try to move but my limbs feel strangely heavy, as if a massive hand is pressing down on my body. Then, darkness swallows him whole, and I am left standing there, alon
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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
The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna EIGHTY ONE
ALAYNA’s POVThe dungeon air bites into my lungs with each step. Damp stone walls close in around me, with torches flickering low in their sconces, casting shadows like gnarled fingers across the corridor. The scent of mildew and old blood seeps into my skin. I hate this place. Every brick and every iron latch, filling me with whispers of pain.Ezra walks beside me in silence. His arm brushes mine, not by accident though. I think he wants me to lean on him but I do not.“I can come with you,” he says at last.I pause in front of the heavy iron door. “No, Ezra. I need to do this alone.”His jaw tightens. “Are you sure?”“Yes.” I glance at him and touch his arm. “Please.”He studies my face for a moment. Then he nods and turns Mustachio, the guard stationed at the door. The man looks uneasy, his gloved fingers tapping against the hilt of his
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