Lahat ng Kabanata ng The executioner and the Alpha King: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

(Elder Jake’s Point of View) The sun barely peeks through the cracks of the heavy curtains when I knock softly on Carol’s bedroom door. “Come in,” her gentle voice calls. She sits at her vanity, brushing her honey-blonde curls with slow, careful strokes. Those hazel eyes catch the early light—so much like mine. So perfect. I almost allow myself a moment of pride before I push it away. My polished boots tap quietly on the wooden floor as I enter. “Good morning, sweetheart.” She looks up and beams, innocent and eager. “Morning, Daddy.” That word still thrills me. She’s mine—shaped exactly how I need her, far from the chaos her mother tried to sow. I step closer and rest a hand lightly on her shoulder. The warmth in my voice is practiced, precise. “I have news.” Her eyes brighten. “Really? Good news?” “The best.” I lean down so she sees me clearly in the mirror’s reflection. “You’re going to the castle.” Her breath catches. “To see Eva?” I nod. “Yes. But you need to

Eva’s POV A warm breeze drifts through the open windows, carrying the scent of baked honey bread, fresh herbs, and roasted meats through the castle halls. Outside, banners in every color ripple in the wind, strung from tower to tower like the kingdom is trying to remember what joy feels like. For the first time in what feels like years, the castle is alive—really alive—with laughter, music, and the disorganized chaos of vendors arriving from every corner of the realm. I lean against the windowsill in the east wing, watching the courtyard below. Dozens of tents are going up in neat rows—well, mostly neat. One lopsided tent looks like it’s losing a fight with gravity, and two knights are arguing over the direction of a flagpole. Children dart between carts stacked with candied fruit and dyed silks, their hands sticky, their voices high and wild. A harassed-looking guard tries to stop a boy from stealing what might be an entire pie. He fails. Behind me, Sonia groans dramatically as

Eva’s POV I think I’ve stepped into someone else’s fever dream. The boutique is a labyrinth of lace and velvet and whispered chaos. Dresses shimmer like hanging spells along every wall. Perfume and candle wax cling to the air like a second skin. I’m standing near the entrance, boxed in by racks of gowns taller than me, while the rest of them disappear into silk and madness. Trixie twirls in front of the mirror in a gown made of golden thread and unnecessary drama. “Does this say warrior princess or ballroom demon?” “Both,” Michael mutters from somewhere under a pile of chiffon. “Which is terrifying.” Parker groans from an ottoman, three dresses draped dramatically over his head like mourning veils. “I’ve lost the will to live. Bury me with whatever that is in your hands, Lenny.” Lenny grunts. “That would be the twelfth bag of ‘discount enchanted perfume.’ I think it smells like betrayal.” I stand quietly by a full-length mirror, fingers brushing the hem of a pale blue

Theo’s POV She actually has the nerve to run. One moment she’s frozen beneath Eva’s touch—then she bolts like a deer startled by gunfire. And I follow without thinking. “Guards!” I roar, already pushing through the crowd. “Lock down the market—don’t let her out! Green dress! Hazel eyes! Move!” Vendors flinch. Stalls shudder as boots crash past them. Fruit rolls underfoot. A pyramid of oranges collapses in a blur of color. My guards fan out, but the crowd is thick and she’s fast. I catch glimpses of her—just the flutter of green silk vanishing between stalls. Too quick. Too smooth. Like she’s done this before. No—not Carol. Not anymore. Somewhere to my right, Parker’s voice cuts through the chaos. “You three—circle the fountain! You, on the stairs! If she gets past you, I swear—” His commands are sharp, efficient. Parker knows how to control a crowd. He’s driving the search like a man possessed. He must’ve seen her too. Footsteps slap behind me. “Are we chasing a girl or a gh

Carol’s POV I run like crazy. My feet pound the forest floor, each step slapping against damp earth and tangled roots. Behind me, the sounds of shouting and market chaos grow smaller, swallowed by trees and wind. Birds scatter overhead. A branch snaps underfoot. I clutch the hem of my green dress to stop it from catching on brambles. Why did Eva look at me like that? Why did Theo chase me like a criminal? My father said they would lie. That they’d twist everything. He told me not to trust them—not even Theo. He said Eva had killed people, that she didn’t feel anything. That she was dangerous. But… something about the way she looked at me—it wasn’t anger. It was curiosity. A hollow opens ahead. Just like he described. Thick oaks wrapped in moss, a dip in the land barely visible unless you knew it was there. Nestled in the hollow is the carriage. Black, silver-trimmed, waiting like a coiled snake. Two guards stand at attention outside. I recognize the insignia on their col