All Chapters of The Alpha King's Captive Bride: Forbidden Desires : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Selene’s POV Lucien matched my pace, his presence solid, too close, his black tunic stretched tight across his shoulders. The villa’s wards pulsed faintly, a low hum brushing my skin, their glowing runes etched into the walls like whispers of power. I stopped at the arched doorway, my hand resting on the cold stone frame, and glanced at him, my green eyes sharp. “Back to my cage, huh?” I said, my voice biting, sarcasm dripping from every word. Lucien turned, his ice-blue eyes glinting in the torchlight, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Not quite,” he said, his tone low, rough like the edge of a blade. “You can move around the villa now. Roam the halls, the gardens—whatever you want. But you don’t leave the clearing without my say-so.” He stepped closer, his scarred hands flexing, the air between us tightening. “And tomorrow, you start training with Vira. She’ll teach you to handle your shifts, your powers.” I laughed, short and harsh, crossing my arms over my chest. “Training?

The water stung as it hit my skin, sluicing away the dirt and sweat from Vira’s brutal training session. I stood under the stream, letting it pound against my shoulders, my mind racing. I’d shifted—not fully, not like I’d meant to, but my claws had come when I’d called them, slicing through the air like knives. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something, a flicker of control I hadn’t had before. My wolf was waking up, and I could feel her now, restless and prowling beneath my ribs. I shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and stepped out, catching my reflection in the steamed-up mirror. My green eyes stared back, wilder than I remembered, like the forest after a storm. I dressed fast—soft trousers, a loose tunic, boots that whispered against the stone floor—and headed back to my room. The villa was quiet, its walls glowing faintly with runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. I flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, but my legs twitched, my fingers drumming against the mattress. I was bo

Only a day had passed since Selene had last seen Lucien, since his hand had brushed her arm, since Ragnar had burst in and shattered whatever unspoken moment had hung between them. Three days owas the deadline given. Selene stood in the clearing, her body tense, her mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. Vira paced in front of her, her voice steady but edged with impatience. "You need to sharpen your senses, Selene," Vira said, her tone cutting through the air. "Hunting isn’t just about strength—it’s about instinct. Smell the wind, hear the rustle, feel the ground. That’s how you survive out here. They could be here by tomorrow, or the next day at the latest." Selene nodded absently, her gaze drifting. Survive. Right. As if that’s the only thing I need to worry about. "I’m trying, Vira." Her voice was tight, a thin wire stretched taut. Vira stopped, her eyes narrowing. "Trying? You’re not even here. Your head’s somewhere else, and it’s going to get you killed if you don’t snap o

Lucien’s POV The floor beneath me crumbled, and I leaped sideways, spikes waiting below. My boots skidded on the slick stone, my heart hammering against my ribs. No time to think—a low growl rumbled through the dark chamber. A ghostly wolf, eyes glowing, lunged from the shadows. I snarled, claws ripping free as I met it in the air. Fangs bit into my shoulder, a hot pain flaring, but I twisted, slamming the beast into the wall. It shattered into mist with a dying howl, leaving me gasping, blood dripping down my arm. Not yet. I pressed a hand to the wound, gritting my teeth. I’m not dying in this hellhole. The Blackthorn Ruins surrounded me, dark and rotting. The air was thick with decay and the hum of old magic. Three days I’d been gone from the pack, chasing a relic through vampire-filled shadows. The Moonheart. Selene’s power—and maybe her life—depended on it. I leaned against the cold stone, catching my breath, letting my mind go back to how I’d ended up here. It started with a j

Selene’s POVThe den’s main hall loomed around me, its stone walls closing in tight, torchlight sputtering like the last breaths of a dying fire, throwing long, twisted shadows that scratched at the floor. My bare feet scraped the cold stone, silent as a wraith, jeans crusted with mud, the letter in my pocket heavy as a blade, its words branded into my skull—golden wolf, blood ties, betrayal, curse. Lucien’s growl from last night still rattled my bones, his ice-blue eyes slicing through me with distrust, his body heat slamming into me when he’d pinned me against the wall, demanding I spill it all. Now he stood by the hearth, shirt unbuttoned, scars rippling across his chest like battle maps, his stare fixed on the parchment as I shoved it into his hands, my fingers grazing his—warm, calloused, a jolt sparking through me, alive and dangerous. He snatched it, ice-blue eyes narrowing to slits, a growl rumbling deep in his chest as he unfolded the worn page, torchlight catching the fraye