Все главы Alpha Alexander: Глава 41 - Глава 50

The wind rattled against the windowpanes as Serena stood by the frosted glass, her hands resting on the edge of the sill. Outside, the landscape stretched endlessly in white, broken only by the silhouettes of pine trees and distant stone walls. The sun had sunk behind a veil of clouds, casting the castle grounds in a dull, aching shade of grey.She had been quiet all day—unusually so. Not that anyone noticed. No one ever did.Not Alexandro, who was buried in endless training drills and war meetings. Not her father, who hadn’t written a single letter since they last met. Not the world that seemed determined to keep spinning without her.Her thoughts, tangled and restless, returned again and again to her family—especially to her father. The last time she had seen him, his expression had been stern, unreadable. Since then, silence. Not a word. Not even a note through a trusted soldier. And the longer that silence stretched, the more it pierced her.Did he blame her? Did he regret marryin

The festival grounds glowed under thousands of tiny golden lanterns strung between tall wooden poles. Their flames danced in the cold breeze, flickering like scattered stars close to the ground. Laughter rose from the heart of the village, warm and inviting, as children darted past in colorful robes and traders shouted out from booths offering sweet bread, roasted nuts, and spiced cider. The music was soft at first, swelling with drums and flutes as more dancers filled the open arena.Serena walked behind Alexandro, her steps quiet, her shoulders slightly tensed beneath her embroidered cloak. He walked ahead of her, tall and commanding, but not once had he turned to check if she was close. His silence pressed on her harder than the winter wind. And despite the soft dress she wore and the braid she had woven so carefully, she still felt cold.People were looking at them—whispering, bowing, smiling in awe—but none of it reached her. What she noticed more than anything was the growing sp

The morning dawned pale and misty, the winter sun hanging low behind thin veils of silver cloud. The northern fortress was unusually quiet for that hour—almost as if it too knew someone important was leaving. Snow clung to the rooftops like lace and crunched softly beneath the boots of the few guards stationed at the gate. The wind swept through the trees, carrying with it the hush of something unfinished.Serena stood just outside the grand doors of the mansion, wrapped tightly in her fur-lined cloak, her hands folded neatly in front of her. The cold bit at her cheeks, but she didn’t shiver. Her eyes, however, searched the courtyard, hoping—expecting—that this moment would feel different.Her husband stood there already, waiting. Tall and unreadable as ever. His long coat rippled in the breeze, his silver-streaked hair tousled slightly at the front. His face was calm. Too calm.She smiled at him, tentative and unsure, hoping that he would catch it. That he would return it. That somet

The journey home had been long, exhausting, and cold—both outside and within. Serena had barely slept the second night, her thoughts tangling like threads in her mind. Each twist of the road reminded her of what she had left behind, and what awaited her at home. She had told herself she needed this—needed to be near family, needed to see her father and Jina, needed to feel normal again. But now, as the carriage crested the hill and the familiar scent of her childhood meadows filled her lungs, her stomach churned with unease.When the carriage finally rolled to a halt before the wooden gates of her childhood home, Serena leaned forward, pressing her gloved hand against the windowpane. The snow-covered rooftops and the slightly tilted signboard above the barn felt untouched by time. For a moment, she simply stared—soaking in the familiarity of a place that had once been her whole world.As the door creaked open, a soft gasp escaped her.There, standing at the porch steps, was Jina.Even

The cold seeped through the stone walls of the fortress like a shadow with weight. Though fires crackled in the hearth and heavy tapestries hung from the ceiling beams, there was a strange chill in the air that no warmth could chase away.Alexandro sat alone in his chamber, the silence so complete it pressed into his ears like a ringing. His cloak had been tossed aside. His boots, wet with melted snow, were abandoned near the threshold. He had sent the guards and servants away hours ago. Now, only the occasional gust of wind from the northern mountains reminded him that the world outside still moved, still breathed.He leaned back in his chair, staring at the dying flames, their glow flickering against the sharp planes of his face. His thoughts—reluctant and chaotic—kept dragging him back to the same place.Her.Serena.He had spent the last two days pretending her absence didn’t affect him. He had trained with the warriors, patrolled the borders, signed documents—but it was all mecha