All Chapters of His Broken Vow: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

81 Chapters

Heal Me

The silence that followed Dave Stark’s question was suffocating.Alpha Cyrus froze—only for a heartbeat—before rage overtook reason. The sharp sound of his palm striking flesh cracked through the grand hall.Agnes staggered sideways.Gasps erupted from every corner.No one had ever imagined Alpha Cyrus raising his hand against his cherished daughter. Not even in whispers. Not even in secret.Agnes burst into tears, collapsing against her mother. Luna Helena’s face drained of color, her lips trembling as she reached for her child.Bella stood rooted to the floor, horror crawling up her spine.Alpha Cyrus exhaled shakily, then turned toward King Stark—toward Dave—with his head bowed and his pride in tatters.“Your Majesty,” he said, voice hoarse but controlled, “I owe you the truth. Bella… is also my daughter. I forced her and her mother, Linda, into the Omega class because of unresolved issues between Linda and myself. It was wrong. But it is the truth.”The words landed like a blade.

The Hunger Between Them

Shock barely covered what Bella felt.“Heal… you?” she echoed softly, her voice unsteady.Dave Stark didn’t answer right away. His gray eyes—those unsettling, knowing eyes—held her in place, as if he could see straight through the layers she had built to survive this life. Whatever he was fighting, he clearly wasn’t ready to name it.“Rest,” he said finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”The words wrapped around her like a command disguised as kindness.Bella didn’t even remember falling asleep.When she woke, soft daylight filtered through sheer curtains, bathing the room in a pale glow. She was lying in a bed that felt far too large and far too luxurious for someone who had spent most of her life surviving scraps of mercy. The suite was breathtaking—ivory walls, gold accents, and the faint scent of cedar and something unmistakably masculine.Someone shifted beside her.“Good morning.”Bella turned sharply—and froze.“Sandra?” she blurted, sitting upri

Dressed For the Hunt

Sandra dabbed her lips with a linen napkin, then lifted her gaze to Bella with a look that was far too sharp to be casual.“You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you?” she asked calmly. “About the Moon Goddess cursing Dave Stark. About him never finding his fated mate.”Bella’s fingers tightened around her spoon.She hadn’t heard them.She had lived them.“When it became clear fate wasn’t cooperating,” Sandra continued, “the Supreme Council—and a few of us close to him—decided something else could be done. If destiny failed, then choice would replace it.”Bella’s chest constricted.“An agreed bond,” Sandra went on. “A selected mate. Political or personal. It’s not uncommon among kings.”Jealousy flared hot and ugly before Bella could stop it.Of course it made sense. Of course the world would move on without her. To Dave, she was nothing more than a stranger he had taken under his protection—a curiosity, perhaps. A responsibility.And yet…Why her?Why not Agnes—the polished Alpha daughter

When the King Watches

She didn’t know he was there.Bella stood near the window, a towel twisted around her hair, another wrapped low around her body. She hummed softly—some careless, half-forgotten melody—as she adjusted the fabric, swaying without awareness. The sound drifted through the room and lodged itself somewhere dangerous in Dave Stark’s chest.He should have announced himself.Instead, he watched.Moonlight and lamplight kissed her damp skin, turning it warm and luminous. Water beaded along her collarbone and traced slow paths down curves she seemed blissfully unaware of. The towel clung to her thighs just enough to make restraint feel like punishment.The first time he’d heard her name—Bella—something had shifted inside him. A pull he didn’t understand. Standing there now, he understood even less. His Hybrid stirred restlessly, dark thoughts brushing the edge of control.She looked… alive. Unburdened. For days, he’d only seen her asleep or eating, quiet and contained. This—this careless joy—hit

When Control Fractures

Bella didn’t know she wasn’t alone.She adjusted the towel wrapped around her hair as she crossed the room, humming softly—an absentminded tune that carried warmth and ease. Her hips swayed without intention, her steps light, careless. The kind of movement that came from forgetting the world existed beyond the four walls around you.Dave Stark stood just inside the doorway.He should have announced himself. Cleared his throat. Taken a step back.Instead, he stayed where he was—and watched.Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, catching on the sheen of water still clinging to her skin. The towel wrapped around her body sat low on her hips, secure enough to preserve decency, dangerous enough to test restraint. His jaw tightened. His Hybrid stirred, restless and dark, whispering thoughts he refused to name.When he’d first heard her name—Bella—it had struck something old and unfamiliar inside him. Not recognition. Not destiny. Something quieter. Something that had refused to go awa

The Fall Between Breath

The steam from the shower still lingered when Bella began to hum.It was a soft, unguarded sound—something light and almost hopeful—that followed her as she crossed the room, barefoot and relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. The towel wrapped around her hair threatened to loosen as she moved, her body swaying to a rhythm only she could hear.She didn’t know she was being watched.Dave Stark stood several feet away, silent and immovable, dressed in black from throat to boot. The cut of his shirt followed the broad planes of his chest; the shadows in the room only sharpened the sense of power he carried so effortlessly. His silver-gray eyes tracked her without apology.She felt him before she saw him.The awareness slid over her skin like heat, raising goosebumps along her arms. When she finally turned and found him there—watching—her breath caught hard in her chest.He didn’t look away.Her pulse skidded. She became suddenly, painfully aware of the towel around her bod

A Smile That Cut Too Close

Bella had barely taken three steps into the east corridor when Morgan’s voice drifted after her, easy and warm.“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the ball?” he asked. “I could help. Or at least point you in the right direction.”She smiled over her shoulder. “Maybe later. Right now, I just want some air. A walk.”Morgan brightened like she’d handed him a gift. “Perfect. Then I’ll give you the grand tour.”His enthusiasm was disarming—almost boyish—and Bella found herself laughing as they set off through the mansion’s long, echoing halls. The place felt alive today. Servants moved quickly, whispers slipped through archways, and somewhere deeper within the walls, music was being tested for the night’s festivities.They rounded a corner and slowed.Dave Stark’s office door stood slightly ajar.Morgan’s stride faltered. “Ah,” he murmured. “He’s with someone.”“I don’t mind waiting,” Bella said quickly, though she hadn’t been asked.They stepped aside. The pause stretched.The partially

Wasn't Meant to Be Invisible

The hours slipped by in a strange, weightless haze, and before Bella realized it, the night of the ball had arrived.She stood by the tall arched window of her room, arms wrapped loosely around herself, watching as the estate transformed below. Lanterns glowed along the marble paths, casting warm light over manicured hedges. Guards straightened. Servants hurried. And then—the gates began to open.Guests poured in.Luxury cars rolled through the iron gates one after another—sleek black Vantrex Aurums, silver Helion LXs, deep-blue Orion Crossfires—each door opening to release men and women dressed in power and wealth. Laughter floated upward. Confidence followed them like perfume.Bella leaned closer to the glass.She watched Morgan move briskly across the courtyard, greeting guests with practiced ease, his posture relaxed but alert. Men she had never seen before stepped out, tall and sharp-eyed, their presence commanding attention. Then came the women.Beautiful women.They gathered ju

Thorns Beneath the Moonlight

“You’re welcome,” Sandra said softly, folding her arms with quiet satisfaction. “You deserved the pampering.”Bella barely heard her.For several long moments, she simply stared at her reflection, as though the mirror had conjured a stranger and dared her to recognize herself. The woman staring back looked… radiant. Her golden hair gleamed under the soft lighting, smoothed into a low, elegant bun with loose tendrils framing her face. Her makeup was subtle—barely there—yet it sharpened every feature, drawing attention to her eyes, her lips, the quiet confidence beginning to bloom in her posture.She looked powerful.The off-shoulder gown clung to her curves with deliberate grace. The deep neckline hinted without revealing too much, the fitted waist accentuating her figure before the fabric flared gently below her knees. Tiny beads and embroidered flowers traced the neckline, catching the light with every movement, while a delicate lace pattern hugged her waist like a secret.Bella swal

Thrill

Laughter cut through the night like broken glass.Nova and her circle howled with delight as the drink splashed across Bella’s face, the sharp scent of alcohol soaking into her hair, sliding down her cheeks, staining the delicate fabric of her gown. Makeup burned her eyes. Cold crept into her bones.Bella staggered back, breath hitching, hands trembling as fingers clawed at her hair and yanked at her dress.“Let me go!” she cried, trying to wrench free.The girls closed in.The band switched tracks—louder, faster—encouraging a wave of dancers to flood the lawn. Music swallowed Bella’s voice, smothered her plea beneath rhythm and applause.Nova stepped closer, her smile cruel and deliberate. “Remember what you are,” she hissed. “A breeder. The moment I saw you in this house, I knew you were aiming for Dave Stark. Don’t fool yourself. He’s mine. Mine.”She jabbed a finger at Bella’s chest, then wiped her hand on a nearby hedge as if disgusted. “Ugh. Don’t touch her.”The others laughed.

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