All Chapters of The executioner and the Alpha King: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Carol’s point of view I can hear them. All of them. Voices swirling around like wind through broken glass. Zac’s voice, low and steady. Selene crying. Nathaniel giving orders like this is all some routine procedure. But I’m somewhere else. Floating, sinking, burning—everything burns. It’s like that nightmare you can’t wake up from—the kind where you try to scream, but your throat doesn’t work, and your limbs are filled with sand. Except here, it’s worse. Here, everything hurts. My skin, my bones, even the soft parts inside—they all burn. Like someone poured boiling water into my veins and forgot to stop. I try to move. I can’t. But I can feel them lifting me. “…the chamber…” someone says. “Purification…” another voice murmurs. No. No, I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to— The world shifts. Cold air hits my skin, sharp and metallic, like stepping barefoot onto ice. They put me down. A hard floor beneath me, biting into my shoulder blades. I manage to open my eyes a f

Carol’s point of view The voice comes again. Calm, cold, and unyielding—filling the chamber like thick fog. “What do you feel, Carol?” it asks softly, almost gentle. “But don’t hide from me.” I swallow, my throat tightening like a noose. Words get stuck inside me, clawing to get out. I want to lie. I want to say I’m innocent, untouched. But I know better. Guilt. It presses down on my chest, heavier than any stone. Every breath is a struggle under its weight. I see the faces of the girls—helpless, terrified, broken—and I remember what I did to them. I was their tormentor. A marionette in a twisted dance I didn’t understand until now. The voice speaks again, patient and probing. “Do you feel remorse? Or do you feel nothing?” I try to answer, but all I hear is the pounding of my heart, and a screaming silence inside. Betrayal. Betrayal of myself, of my own soul. How could I have been so powerless? How could I have let this darkness take control, use my hands as weapo

Lily’s point of view The warmth of the kitchen feels like home—baking bread, sweet tea, the faint scent of herbs in glass jars on the shelves. The girl standing across from me is smiling, all freckles and messy brown hair, apron tied too loosely at the back. I know her. I don’t remember how I know her—but I do. “I swear to the stars,” the girl laughs, brushing flour off her hands, “he looked at me once and I felt it everywhere. You know what I mean, right?” I blink, still dizzy, trying to ground myself in her words. “Felt what everywhere?” I manage to whisper, surprised that my voice works. “The pull,” she says, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. “Like—here’s your mate, but also—here’s someone else who makes your stomach flutter. Doesn’t that make me a terrible person?” She groans, dragging her hands down her face. “Gods, I feel like such a whore.” I flinch at the word. Something in me recoils hard—like she’s just stepped on a landmine without knowing it. But she just keeps

Selene’s point of view I don’t remember how I got here. One minute I’m in the garden, laughing with my daughters like nothing is wrong, and the next— Screams. Now I stand in front of that stone chamber, shaking so badly I can barely keep my arms at my sides. The first girl they carried in looked so small, like a rag doll in Mason’s arms. I reached for her, but they pulled her away, gently but firmly. I don’t even know which one it was. Carol? Lily? They both have green eyes now. Both wearing the same pain, the same filth of that bastard’s magic still clinging to them like oil. The door closed. And then the screaming began. It isn’t human. It isn’t natural. I stand there like a ghost, clutching my own wrists, nails digging into skin. If I don’t hold on, I’ll fall apart completely. “They’re strong,” Zach murmurs beside me, trying to sound steady. “They’ll get through this.” But his voice is a whisper against the tidal wave of agony echoing from behind that door. I hear her—

Eva’s POV I’m starving. It’s not that we didn’t eat on the road—Samantha packed food for us, and she’s actually a good cook—but it wasn’t enough. I underestimated just how much Elias can eat. The boy devours food like he’s been raised by wolves. Which, I guess, he technically has. What surprises me more is Sonia. She ate like two adults on her own. And I’m not exactly shy around a meal either. Samantha didn’t stand a chance. Now, my stomach feels like it’s folding in on itself, twisting like a knot. Hunger makes me irritable, and I don’t like being irritable. I prefer being dangerous on a full stomach. I glance around as we walk through the halls toward the dining room. Sonia’s in Michael’s arms, whispering something to him, her face soft for once. They look ridiculous together. Ridiculous and… adorable. I catch myself smiling. Trixie is walking just ahead, bumping Parker with her shoulder, teasing him. He tries to scowl but ends up smirking at her instead. That’s another on