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On the Record
publish date:
2026-09-04 13:22:26
Latest chapter
The Alpha’s Forbidden Omega What the Prisoners give
Kieran’s POV“Names. Then water.”The younger prisoner has the look of a man who was paid more than he was told. Cell stone. Lamp light. Juni stands behind the line I asked her to hold—present, not performing interrogation, close enough that the bond stays steady and the older current can listen for lies the way it listens for blades.“Plain coat called Rett runs the forward marsh parties,” the man says, voice scraped. “Orders came from the quay lieutenant. Take the marked girl if the line softens. No kill. Collar, cloth, flatboat back through the cuts. Bonus if no Voss blood spilled. Penalty if she’s marked up.”Juni’s anger flashes hot in the bond. I keep my face still.“And the woman on the bank?” I ask.He hesitates. “Didn’t give a name. Fine cloak. Gave Rett a look that shut him up mid-sentence. Left before the clash. I never saw her on the quay before. Others said she was the reason the timing moved up—after some paper went neutral.”After Torvin’s record. After Seraphine’s name
The Alpha’s Forbidden Omega The Box
Juni’s POV“Put it away before I burn it.”Kieran doesn’t argue. The collar box sits on the study table between us like a third person. Lined. Careful. Built so it won’t bruise. Dawn light makes the metal fittings look almost polite. The bond is raw from the marsh night—his exhaustion, my fury, the older current still tasting reed and tar every time I breathe too deep.Wren takes the box without comment. When the door shuts, the room feels larger and worse.“Four prisoners,” Kieran says. He hasn’t fully washed; mud still edges his nails. “Two will talk for water and a promise they won’t be given back to Crane. The plain coats don’t break easy. The silhouette—if it was Seraphine—left no footprint we could hold.”“It was her posture.” My voice comes out flat. “Even if it was theater, it was her kind of theater.”He nods once. I cross the room and take his hands, mud and all, and put them on my waist because both of us need proof of skin. The claim in the bond steadies first; the older c
The Alpha’s Forbidden Omega Marsh Light
Kieran’s POV“Contact on the spur.”The word arrives deep in the second watch. I am half-armored already; sleep was a thin rumor. Juni sits up in the bed the moment the bond kicks, eyes clear, mark dark against her throat. She does not ask to ride the marsh. She asks the only question I can stand.“How close?”“Close enough that we stop waiting.” I buckle the last strap. “You stay in the inner keep with Mera. If this is a probe, I want you where a second cut can’t reach. If it’s more, I need the house able to close without looking for you in the dark.”Her jaw tightens. Then she nods, because she promised me mind and placement both. “Bring yourself back. I’m not raising a moon for a ghost.”I kiss her hard enough to hurt, soft enough to mean it, and leave before the bond can argue.The marsh spur is a maze of black water and standing reed. Our scouts mark the way with cloth strips I pray Crane’s men have not already seen. Sound carries wrong here. Light carries worse. We move in a thi
The Alpha’s Forbidden Omega The Second Barge
Juni’s POV“They’re both gone.”The scout’s words land in the hall like a dropped blade. Midmorning. I was halfway through helping the cook’s girl shell beans—ordinary, on purpose—when Kieran’s summons cut through the household. Now we stand in the study with dust still on the scout’s boots and the bond wound so tight I can feel Kieran’s pulse as if it were mine.“Define gone,” Kieran says.“Both barges left the quay before dawn. Hooded lanterns. Armed still. They didn’t take the open river road south. They cut into the side channel that feeds the marsh spur—harder to track, slower, closer to our eastern blind line if they know the cuts.” The scout swallows. “We didn’t follow into the marsh. Orders were look, not touch. But the quay is empty. The held breath moved.”Empty. Moved. Closer to a blind line.The older current under my mark surges hard enough that the study tilts—wet reed, black water, the smell of tar—and Kieran’s hand is at my elbow before I finish inhaling.“I’m here,” I
The Alpha’s Forbidden Omega Practice
Kieran’s POV“Again.”Juni resets her stance in the training yard, breath short, braid coming loose. Dawn light thins the last of the night chill. Mera’s lock-in loop is already done—lower households counted, doors tested, cellars checked, the marked lady seen walking their lanes without a procession or a speech. The bond still carries the leftover edge of that loop: her determination, their curiosity, one old man’s grunt that might have been respect.Now her palms are open, feet planted in the dust, learning the angle of a break-and-run that isn’t flight so much as refusal to be carried.I come at her half-speed. She slips left the way the bloodline once shoved me left in a smoke-filled yard, catches my wrist, fails to finish the turn, and ends up flushed and glaring.“That would have worked on a slower Alpha.”“There are no slower Alphas on Crane’s barges.” I reset, rolling my shoulder. “Again. Don’t watch my arms. Watch my feet. The body lies after the feet have already told the tr
The Alpha’s Forbidden Omega Held Breaths
Juni’s POV“Say what the scouts actually saw.”Kieran stands at the map table with his coat still dusted from the wall rounds. Night presses against the study shutters. Lamps throw a low gold across the river bend inked on parchment. I am inside after dusk as agreed—not caged, present—arms folded so I will not pace a hole in his floor. The bond is tight under my skin: claim locked, older current prickling beneath the mark like weather building behind glass.He doesn’t soften it. “Two barges shifted closer to the quay after midnight. Lanterns hooded. Men unloading crates that weren’t grain. Our scouts counted at least thirty armed, maybe more under canvas. No banners. Crane’s plain coats directing the lines. No movement onto the road yet. No scouts of theirs on our spur that we could mark without being seen.”“Waiting.”“Watching to see if Torvin’s record made us pull steel home and leave the border soft.” His mouth is a hard line. “It didn’t. Watches stay doubled. The south gate runs
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