Lahat ng Kabanata ng The King of Alphas: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

As I near the plane I only have one question. Who is Noah Silverton? He was present at the pack house which means he was part of a delegation. He is from Utrif, as he said. An envoy, for sure. He is of high ranking, I can tell by the aura he carries alone, and well, the private jets. Alphas and Betas do not leave their packs unless it's for grave matters. Rarely deltas are sent out for work like this as well. Gammas are sent mostly. And for a gamma to emit such waves of authority means the rank of his pack is high as well. The higher the rank of a pack the more they are involved with the country. And the King. The thought disappoints me. I can not stay with him if he's that close to an Alpha who could causally ask for rogue hunters to check in on his Gamma's mysterious mate. Then not only will I die but my mate would get into trouble as well. Helping a rogue in Utrif, for whatever reason it may be, is punishable. Helping a rogue inside Utrif. . . I start to chart my plan of es

The double doors to the study creak slightly and I hear footsteps approaching. A young, pale man enters. He is dressed in a white robe and silver rimmed glasses. His short golden hair falls over his brows in messy curls. With his bright eyes focused on the piece of paper in his hands, he does not seem to notice I am out of bed as he slowly totters towards me. I let him continue until he sees my feet, pauses, looks up and blanches. "I—" I do not let him finish. Grabbing his collar, I pull his elbow and twist him, so that my sharp claws rest on the beating vein in his throat. The boy immediately goes lax, then two seconds later breathes again and raises his arms. He lets out a quick flurry of stutters that are far from words, let alone sentences.

The man whose face I had just beheld in awe is none other than the King of Utrif. My mate is the ruler of a realm where rogues like me are branded as criminals, hunted and despised. Noah lifts one brow—a picture of complete and utter nonchalance. "I'm—" a rogue. He's the king. This can't be. There has to be a mistake. His arms are crossed. "Yes?" I shake my head and turn to glass wall. The moment I reach the end I realise I have no lungs. No breathes. There is no air. The Sun Palace, people call the Palace of Utrif. And now I know why. The weather around may be gloomy and dark but the palace exterior is sunshine morphed into crystalline brilliance. Its exterior is crafted from a material that catches and reflects the light. Shining as though it is the sun itself. It is breathtaking, an architectural marv

A very vivid image of Noah with a spike made of pure silver straight through his heart flashes in my mind. The cardinal wants him dead. The cardinal wants my mate dead. I have spent fourteen years of my life with the man. And when he wants someone dead. They die. "Leona," Noah says, very carefully. As though I am a delicate piece of art. "Shall I send for the healer, sire?" the guard says. "Yes. Now." I faintly hear the door opening and closing. Then Noah grabs both my arms like I will fall if he doesn't. He looks at me like I am a broken thing in need of fixing. Which is exactly what I am but that is another story. His touch is both a balm and a torment, a reminder of the vulnerability that clings to me like a shadow. The image of his impending death claws at my mi

Rey and I were both attacked. We were both targeted. Which means that they were not just there because they were after me, but the treaty Rey mentioned Alpha Renier had with the rogues, it is at play here too. The gears in my head start to turn. Haze, someone who had no connection with rogues, suddenly joining them. Rogues, who had very rare contact with people ever since the rogue trials started, suddenly starting to attack. And finally the cardinal sending Valis to get me to kill the king, who the rogues previously would not even dream of coming close to. The wheels of something very dangerous are creaking here. Why are the rogues so confident all of a sudden? As I am scouring through every piece of information I have and connecting whatever estranged dots I can, my mate grows restless. "Answer me."