All Chapters of The executioner and the Alpha King: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Eva’s POV I sit cross-legged in the far corner of the library, tucked beside a table covered in dust and old scrolls. A patchy cloth from one of the nearby shelves is spread out beneath the small mirror, keeping it from touching the surface directly. The air smells like burnt wax and dry parchment, the scent of the castle’s age lingering in every breath. A half-burnt candle flickers beside me, its tiny flame casting long shadows against the curved spine of a toppled book. Someone left breadcrumbs on the floor—probably Michael. The others are gathered now, sitting or standing in a loose circle around the table, but none of them glance at the mirror . Sonia chews the end of a pencil absently, Teo’s arms are crossed tightly over his chest, and Trixie is fiddling with one of her earrings, clearly bored but trying not to look it. Parker leans back in a chair, balancing on two legs like he’s got nothing better to do, while Michael and Lenny linger near the doorway, whispering about wh

Unknown Location – The Depths of the Forsaken Vale The flames in the underground chamber burn green, casting flickering shadows across walls carved with ancient sigils. They pulse with dark energy, each a living shard of the curse etched into time. The Black Mage stands at the center of the circle, black robes clinging to his skeletal frame like smoke. His eyes, coal-pit red, fix on the firelight. He shows no joy. No fear. Only hunger. He feels it. The pull. The mirror has awakened. “So,” he rasps, voice like silk fraying on steel, “the little Queen has found her toy.” The curse—his masterpiece—still coils around the kingdom. A serpent of shadow slithering through bloodlines, dreams, and destinies. And now, after all these years, the final threads begin to tighten. Just as he designed. “My daughter served well.” He turns, fingers brushing the chipped edge of an obsidian altar. Her name is carved there in a dead language —one the land itself has forgotten. “They calle

Eva’s POV The ancient library has settled into an uneasy calm. Dust floats in beams of silver moonlight pouring through the tall arched windows, swirling like the ghosts of whispered secrets. Every step echoes just a bit too loud. Every creak of the floor feels like a warning. I trace my fingers along the shelf where the mirror once rested. My pulse is still too fast. It’s not just what I saw—or didn’t see. It’s the sensation, thick in the air, like something had been waiting for us here. And now… it’s finished. “Anything else?” Trixie asks with a yawn, stretching her arms exaggeratedly. “No more creepy objects? No cursed portraits staring into my soul?” Parker glances sideways at a cracked oil painting. “Don’t tempt the spirits. That one’s blinking.” “Liar.” She squints at it anyway. Their voices fade into background noise as I step toward the far wall. A faint pulsing light catches my eye—behind an overturned chair, near a neglected corner of the room. A shelf of scrolls

Eva’s POV We reach the castle just as the clouds part, letting moonlight spill over the grounds. It feels like stepping out of one world and back into another—familiar, but sharper somehow. The stones underfoot are cold. The silence of the forest clings to us even as the guards open the gate. Inside, the warmth hits like a soft punch. Light. Heat. People. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread winds through the hallways, and someone—probably Cook—shouts at a clumsy servant behind the kitchen doors. We’re home. Or as close to it as this place ever gets. Dinner is waiting in the smaller dining hall. Trixie snags the first seat and already has a roll in each hand before anyone can protest. “Those were decorative,” Parker says, sitting across from her and stealing one anyway. She stabs him with a butter knife—not hard, but enough to make a point. “Touch my carbs again and I’ll curse your eyebrows off.” “I’ve survived worse,” he says with a shrug. “Besides, I’m pretty sure

Sonia’s POV I lean against the cold stone wall of the hidden library, arms crossed tight, trying not to sneeze from the dust that tickles my nose. The air smells old—like forgotten secrets and failed hopes. Thick, heavy, and crawling with dread. Across the room, Eva stands by the ancient table where the Queen’s book lies open, its pages faintly glowing, pulsing with the rhythm of the storm outside. Thunder rumbles, like the castle itself is groaning under the weight of our problems. “We’re running in circles,” I mutter, voice barely louder than the rain tapping the windows. “All this talk, and still no closer to the truth.” Theo shoots me a sharp look. “We’re closer than yesterday.” “Are we?” I snap, feeling the frustration curl in my gut. “Because I still don’t know which twin is innocent, and which one was trained to kill us all.” The room goes suddenly quiet. Trixie stops twisting her dagger between her fingers. Parker’s smirk vanishes like someone stole his joke. Even