The executioner and the Alpha King

Chapter 1The woman jumped from her bed, heart pounding. She strained to listen—there it was again. That sound.“No… no… this can’t be happening,” she whispered, panic in her voice, as she rushed into the next room.She glanced at the one-year-old boy sleeping peacefully in his crib, then turned her eyes to the small white bed across the room. The little girl was still asleep, curled under a blanket, her breathing soft and slow.“She’s only three,” the woman murmured, lifting the girl into her arms. “They can’t take her. She’s just a baby.”“Samantha?” a sleepy male voice called from behind her. “What are you doing, love?”“Carl,” she said in a hushed voice, opening the window. “They’re coming for her. I can hear them. I can’t let them take her. Watch Elias—I’ll take her to safety.”Without waiting for a reply, she jumped through the window and took off toward the forest beyond. Her bare feet pounded the earth as the sounds behind her grew louder, closer.“Mama?” the little girl asked

Chapter 3: Eva – POV The flickering neon sign above the dive bar hums faintly in the night air. It’s just past 9 p.m., but May’s chill makes it feel closer to midnight. I eye the entrance like it’s a trap waiting to spring. Shithole, I think. Exactly the kind of place a man like Zach Albery would haunt. I adjust the hem of my twelve-inch leather skirt, tug my half-buttoned shirt down to tease the edge of my bra, and push my chest forward. I look like a drunk teenager—vulnerable, easy prey. Perfect. Inside, the stench hits me instantly—tobacco, stale sweat, and cheap whiskey. The dim lighting does nothing to hide the filth. My eyes scan the space: one exit behind the bar, another by the bathrooms. Not much room for escape, but then again, I never run. A few patrons glance up as I approach the bar. One of them—a tall guy in a wrinkled T-shirt and an overinflated ego—locks eyes with me. He’s on his feet before I can order. “Hey, little doll,” he purrs, grabbing my shoulder like he

Chapter 5: Eva – POVI park in front of a sleek white duplex, the garage door sliding open at the press of a button. As the metal groans upward, I glance toward the unit on the left.Kitchen lights are on. Mary’s home. Good.I bought this place three years ago—Mary lives on the left, and I took the right. We’re both packless. Not by chance. Not by pity. By design. Her mate, Steve, is from the Whitemountain Pack. She met him last year after turning eighteen. At first, she was terrified—worried he’d reject her because she’d once been my chosen mate. But he didn’t. Turns out, love—real love—doesn’t scare easily.Maybe she’ll move in with him once I turn eighteen. Maybe not. Either way, she’ll always have a home here.Inside, the duplex is calm, clean, quiet. A white orchid rests on a small table in the lobby’s corner. To the left is the living room. Adjacent to it, a guest bathroom—though I never have guests. On the right, the kitchen. I’m not hungry.I move past it and head upstairs, b

Chapter 7: Theo – POVThe walk to my office is silent, but tension rolls off the three detectives like smoke. Frustration. Anger. Desperation. It clings to them.Once we’re inside and the door shuts behind us, I turn to face them. “So, gentlemen… I’m listening.”They glance at one another, unsure who should speak. After a long pause, one cracks under the pressure.“We need an Executioner,” he blurts out. “We can’t catch him. No scent, no fingerprints, no DNA… nothing. He’s always two steps ahead—like he knows exactly when and how to strike.”I raise a brow. “An Executioner? Why would one of them help us?”The man straightens his spine. “Executioners exist to serve justice, my King. This… this may fall under their code. But we won’t know unless we ask.”I nod slowly. “Fine. Initiate contact. Let me know if one agrees.”They hesitate. Again.“What now?” I snap.Another detective clears his throat. “There’s one nearby. Two villages away. He came to collect a rapist.” He meets my eyes. “

Theo – POV This day keeps getting better and better. I rise from my chair, already smirking at the thought of catching the idiot pretending to be me. Can’t wait to get my hands on him. “Let’s shift and have a good run too,” I suggest, heading for the door and tugging off my shirt. The moment I end the mind link with Parker, it hits me—the voice, the girl, the white bedroom. A memory I shouldn’t even have. My grin widens. Tomorrow’s guardian election is going to be interesting—but right now? Time to catch… well, me. I take the back exit through the east corridor, slipping past the guards unnoticed. It leads directly into the woods—my favorite route when I want to avoid attention. Moonlight filters through the trees, painting the forest silver. The air is cool, carrying the familiar scent of pine and freedom. Parker’s already waiting at our usual meeting spot. His grin is wide, and there’s mischief in his eyes. Beside him, two guards look more amused than alert. “You loo