The executioner and the Alpha King のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 151 - チャプター 160

Eva’s point of view I actually missed Mary. I haven’t seen her in almost five months. Sure, we talked on the phone a few times, sent the occasional message—but since she went with Steve to visit his family, it’s been radio silence in person. And I was used to seeing her every day. Well… almost every day. It’s strange how fast people become part of your daily noise, and then suddenly that noise is gone and you realize you liked it more than you thought. Mason and Nathaniel know who Mary is. So does Sonia. But my family? Oh no. They don’t have the slightest clue, and now I have to explain to them that this fiery-haired hurricane currently clinging to me is my chosen lady of peace. My chosen mate. Well… for about a month and a half more. Then she’ll be Steve’s. And I’ll either be the King’s fated mate or… you know… his doom. Depends on how lucky Theo’s feeling. Mary presses a soft kiss against my lips, and I feel her freeze. Her eyes widen with realization. “You no longer belong to

Nathaniel’s point of view I watch them as they talk, gathered in that chaotic way young wolves always seem to find comforting. She’s grown up so fast. I remember when they first brought her to the sanctuary—three years old, blonde curls tangled, dirt on her face, wild as a forest storm and sharp as a blade. A blonde angel with executioner blood, smart like hell, stubborn like something worse. She was the only executioner I ever got involved with. Because I knew who she’d be. And now… her time has come. She has no idea how heavy the road ahead will be. The goddess never picks the easy ones. But I have faith. I have to have faith. The goddess chose right. And with her… maybe, just maybe, we’ll end this madness once and for all. She’s clever, sharper than any blade I’ve seen, and she notices things no one else does. She’s special. Special in that slightly terrifying, “might burn the whole system down” kind of way. “I know you’ll soon leave for the castle,” I tell her as I stand up.

Jack’s POV I run like hell toward the castle, paws pounding the ground like war drums. That slimy little mage trapped me in my wolf form and sent me to die. Thought he was clever, didn’t he? Thought I’d just roll over and take it. But I’m going to fight my way out of this, even if I have to take half of them down with me. The first person I see—I launch at him like my life depends on it. Which it does. They all know my wolf form. I was one of their elders once. I am power. I am fear. Or—I was. I close the distance, lips curling back, ready to rip, tear, destroy— And what comes out of my throat is… a bark. A high-pitched, pathetic yip. What. The. Bloody. Hell. I skid to a stop, ears twitching in horror. The man crouches in front of me, a guard in standard castle gear, with an expression like he’s just found a lost kitten on his doorstep. “Hey there, little puppy. Are you lost?” Lost? Lost? I try to lunge for his throat, but all I manage is an awkward flail of stubby p

Eva’s point of view I watch as black fog rises from the scratches the dog makes in the dirt. He’s pure white—fluffy, almost cute—but around him, oily strands of black fog twist and curl like smoke from a dying fire. “Do you see this?” Elias whispers at my side, his voice sharp with unease. “Is that… normal?” “I don’t think they see it,” Sonia murmurs, her tone somewhere between wonder and suspicion. “You see it because you’re warded against black magic,” I whisper back to Elias. “And you”—I glance at Sonia—“you passed through the purification process.” They nod, both falling silent, watching. Without a word, I kill the engine and open the door, stepping out into the thick, humid air. My boots hit the ground softly, but the weight of what I’m about to do feels loud. Theo spots me first, walking over with that familiar, maddening mix of worry and command. “Welcome, my queen—” I cut him off with a sharp gesture. I’m already sliding into executioner mode, my voice dropping like a

Zach’s point of view It’s one of those rare mornings where everything feels almost normal. The girls are making flower crowns, sitting cross-legged in the soft grass. Selene’s kneeling with them, weaving stems together like she’s done this a thousand times before. Her hair’s braided loosely, strands curling around her face in soft wisps. She looks—content. Happy, even. I lean back against the old garden wall, stretching my legs, the sun warming my face. For once, the camp doesn’t smell like sweat and training mats—it smells like crushed grass and wildflowers. Peaceful. Ordinary. Carol lifts her crown in victory. “Ta-da!” Selene laughs softly. “Beautiful.” “It’s lopsided,” Lily says critically, tilting her head. “But in a fun way.” I snort. “Says the one building a shrubbery on her head.” Lily gives me a glare sharp enough to skin a deer. “It’s artistic.” “Looks like a bush someone forgot to water,” I mutter. Selene shoots me a warning look, but she’s hiding a smile. “Oh, d