All Chapters of The Alpha Princess Lethal Weapon: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

AKIRAMy heart paced faster, and I could feel it beating as though it was going to burst out of my chest. I was sweating profusely whilst panting to catch my breath. It was as though I had just had a panic attack. I looked at Zane lying beside me, and the only words I heard in my head were, “His father killed your parents.”Those words kept ringing as a bell in my head, and suddenly Zane jerked from the bed. He was sweating profusely whilst panting as well.Our eyes fixed a gaze for a moment as we both looked at each other, trying to ascertain what had just transpired.“Why..... wh.... What... just happened, “ Zane stuttered, breaking the silence, still maintaining a poised eye contact with me. Confused, I looked at him, trying to find the right words to voice out, but I could not mutter a word.“I had a dream, more like a trance,” Zane confessed. “I sensed we had the same dream,” I responded. The evident confusion that was depicted on Zane’s face reduced.“I need a source for answers

ZANEIry came to my rescue and I recovered fast, I was an Alpha so my injuries healed quickly. And now I was more determined to find out the truth.Iry and I strolled towards the library, we didn't say much to each other.As we entered the building, the familiar scent of old paper and leather book covers filled the air. We moved through the half opened doors, the fragile murmur of calmed dialogues and the mix of turning pages were the only sounds breaking the quiet.Iry moved closer, his voice low but audible. “I’ll clear the library, Alpha. We require silence for this. You can’t work with distractions.”I inclined back in my chair, settling him with a consistent look. “No.”His forehead wrinkled, vulnerability blazing in his eyes. “But, Zane, this can be important—”I cut him off. “Important enough to do without disturbing the pack. Let them stay.”“They’ll overhear,” he squeezed, his tone more honed presently.“Then let them.” My voice held certainty. “If we stow away, we welcome do

AKIRAOnce at some point, this room, this brilliant mansion—was a safe house of consolation. Presently, even though it felt new, it felt different.As he remained unmoving at the entryway, he didn't move for a minute, his look was settled on mine, and I could see the streak of feeling on his face.I wanted to talk, to reach out to him, to offer him consolation. But the words caught in my throat, misplaced in my thoughts. His look turned to me, and for a miniature, our eyes met. In that brief exchange, I saw a flicker of affirmation, and a suggestion of understanding. But it was gone as quickly since it had showed up, supplanted by a cloak of need. And I was as well powerless to stand up to his drag. I said just a whisper, however it appeared to smash the wonder.He took one cautious step inside the room, flickered, and after that took another. "Akira. I was shocked to see you here.”I heard a slight tremble in his voice, but it was there. In a way I had never listened to before, he so

AKIRAThe air in the room felt overwhelming as I continued to stay in, each breath labored, weighed down by the pressure that extended between us like a tight wire. He stood by the window, his back to me, the outline of his shoulders tight, cautious, as if he knew this moment had been coming.Outside, the moon hung tall, casting a ghostly shine that leaked into the room, lighting up the spaces we’d both tried to fill with hush.I called his name, my voice scarcely more than a whisper, but it cut through the calm like an edge.He turned gradually, his eyes shadowed, unreadable—a mystery I was not willing to leave unsolved. We'd been moving around each other for so long, entrapped in lies, half-truths, and the leftovers of a love we’d once shared. I needed to know if any of it had been genuine.“Why are you doing it?” My voice was more honed presently, carrying the weight of a long time of perplexity, outrage, and catastrophe. I couldn’t keep the tremor out, and I abhorred that he cou

AKIRAI closed the entryway to my room, and the silence settled like a weight on my chest. Alone presently, genuinely alone, I feel the vacancy press against me from all sides. The calm isn’t comforting; it’s accusatory. Everything I thought I knew feels like smoke slipping through my fingers. I sink down onto the edge of my bed, hands holding the knit my mother once sewed. The recognizable texture is meant to be delicate, warm—but nowadays, it feels unusual, like I’m touching a lie."Not his girl," I whisper out loud, as if saying it might by one means or another make it less genuine. But the words wait in the air, biting and unavoidable.My Uncle—no, not my Uncle—the man I called my Uncle all years, kept this truth from me. And for what? To protect me? Or was it something darker? My look falls on the old wooden chest at the foot of my bed. I keep in mind when I began to find it, tucked away in the upper room, secured in tidy. My mother had smiled, her eyes removed, and told me it wa