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Chapter 308 – A Day in the Sun
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2025-08-17 14:30:16
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The executioner and the Alpha King Chapter 309 – Storm in the Pack House
Kostas’s point of view The pack house smells of wood polish and faintly of roasted meat. Dinner preparations are underway, and I can hear Paris barking orders to the staff in a way that’s both commanding and somehow comforting. I guide Eva through the doorway, and I immediately sense the shift. “Ah,” Melissa’s voice cuts through the chatter like a blade. Sharp, cold, and dripping with judgment. She’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes flicking over Eva like she’s inspecting a threat. Eva stiffens beside me, and I feel the tension radiate off her. I hate this. Melissa smirks. “Well, if it isn’t the mysterious little guest. Do you always wander into pack houses uninvited, or is today special?” Eva’s head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing, but her voice is calm. too calm. “I don’t wander,” she says softly, “I was invited.” Melissa snorts. “Invited. Of course. Because you look so… harmless.” Her gaze lingers, assessing, sizing up. “Tell me, are you going to stay long? Or
The executioner and the Alpha King Chapter 308 – A Day in the Sun
Kostas’s point of view The engine rumbles beneath me, low and steady, a heartbeat in sync with the sea wind whipping through my hair. I glance at Eva beside me, helmeted and tense, and can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. She’s holding on tight, but the faint curve of her lips tells me she’s excited. Nervous, maybe, but alive in a way that makes my chest tighten. “This is your idea of fun?” she shouts over the roar, laughter hidden beneath the sound. “You’ll tell me when we stop!” I yell back, swerving slightly along the coastal road, hugging curves with the precision that comes from years of practice. She clutches my waist a little tighter, and I feel her pulse against me. A strange, grounding warmth in the cool November air. We ride down to the town, wheels humming over asphalt and scattered leaves. Shops are just waking up, their windows fogged and fragrant with fresh bread and coffee. I park the bike outside a small café whose aroma alone could make someone forget
The executioner and the Alpha King Chapter 307 – Whispers on the Wind
Kostas’s point of viewThe whispers reach me before the wind changes. News travels fast between packs, carried by wandering wolves and late-night phone calls, and this morning it comes like a spark in dry grass: the Alpha King is in Greece.Not just anywhere. He’s close. Searching.I sit at the edge of the veranda, boots crossed at the ankles, watching the sea stretch endlessly in front of me. The November sun glows softer here than anywhere else I’ve ever been, warm but not scorching, like the land itself knows how to cradle its people. Yet even in this calm, the weight of the rumor settles heavy in my chest.The Alpha King does not travel lightly. He moves with purpose, and his presence is always a storm.I hear the door creak behind me before the scent of my father hits—oak, leather, and salt. Alpha Paris rarely makes a sound unless he chooses to, but I know his steps better than anyone. He joins me without a word, gaze fixed on the same horizon I’ve been staring at.“You heard?” I
The executioner and the Alpha King Chapter 306 – The Girl They Took
Isabella’s Point of View She thrashes like a wild animal. Screaming. Kicking. Biting. But the magic net holds. Barely. Nathaniel grits his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow as he fights to keep the spell together. “She’s too strong… this shouldn’t be possible!” “She’s possessed,” Malcolm growls, his eyes glowing gold. “She’s not alone in that body.” Simone laughs. But it’s not her laugh. It’s a man’s. Cold. Cruel. Echoing. “She is mine,” the voice says. “You’re too late. She belongs to me, she is me. And we will destroy all of you. ” Lily flinches. “Did you hear that?!” “We all did,” I whisper, stepping closer. “Let me try.” “Isabella—” Nathaniel warns. “I know what I’m doing.” I stand inches away from her face. And i lift my hand slowly towards her heart. The moment I touch her, the cold burns through me like frostbite in the veins. Simone’s head jerks toward me, eyes black now, not red. “You can’t have her,” I whisper. “She doesn’t belong to you. Sh
The executioner and the Alpha King Chapter 305 – The Girl Behind the Veil
Nathaniel’s Point of View The air here isn’t air at all. It’s thick. Heavy. Like breathing through smoke and cobwebs spun by nightmares. I reach for Isabella’s hand as we approach the shimmer of the veil, the last border between this world and the place Simone has been hidden in. Protected. Forgotten. Imprisoned. “I don’t like this,” Isabella whispers. “It’s too quiet.” Beside us, Malcolm and the twins—Lily and Carol—stand alert. Even their wolves are still, sensing the wrongness around us. The veil pulses. My fingers tremble as I reach into my coat and pull out the small crystal blessed by the Goddess. The one she said would “cut through lies.” I press it into the shimmer. The world ripples like water disturbed. Cold wind blows back our hair and robes, and I hear it: the scream of a girl too long lost in shadows. Isabella gasps. “That’s her.” I nod once, and we step through. ⸻ It’s not a forest or a prison or a tower. It’s something much worse. It’s a memory
The executioner and the Alpha King Chapter 304 – Common Sense and Unwanted Queens
Eva’s Point of View The sun rises lazily above the horizon, bathing the olive grove in a warm, golden glow. The cicadas hum. Salt lingers in the air. I stretch my limbs and tie my hair back as Kostas tosses me a wooden training staff. “You’re up early,” he says, smiling. “Most people come here for the sleep-ins and ouzo.” “I’m not most people.” He snorts. “Clearly.” We begin circling each other, feet silent on the packed earth. I strike low—he dodges. I feint, swing high—he blocks. We go back and forth for minutes until I start noticing something strange. He’s pulling his hits. His blocks are half a second too slow—intentional. His stance? Slightly open, giving me easy opportunities. “Kostas,” I say, frowning, “are you going easy on me?” “No.” “Yes, you are.” He hesitates, then gives me a sheepish shrug. “You’re pregnant, Eva.” I blink. “I’m still capable of breaking your ribs,” I mutter. He chuckles. “Noted.” We continue, though I push harder now, challenging him. A qu
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