All Chapters of The alpha king's slave mate: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lyra’s povHis hand was warm as it cupped my chin, calloused and careful. I wanted to lean into the touch I’d been craving, but I couldn’t. Not when everything inside me felt like it was breaking all over again. My eyes rose to meet his, and I already knew—he wasn’t alone.They were golden.Alaric was there too, watching me through the same eyes that had made my heart skip the very first time they met mine. And it was almost cruel, how much gentleness those eyes held right then. As if they hadn’t watched me stand there, humiliated, broken, and alone in a room full of people who looked at me like dirt.I stared at him, unsure of what I was searching for—maybe the truth, maybe a lie I could live with. But Ronan only looked at me in silence, his golden eyes scanning every inch of my face like he could read every unspoken thought.His hand moved gently, fingers brushing my cheek so softly it made something twist in my chest. I hated how even then—when I wanted to scream, to shove him away

Ronan’s POVThe halls were quieter than usual as I walked back to my chamber, nodding at some guards that walked past me.There was something weird that made the hairs at the back of my head stand.It was not the kind of quiet that brought peace but the unsettling kind that made your instincts bristle, the silence that warned you that something was wrong. I walked with carefully, each step echoing in the vast, empty corridor as I headed back to my chambers, but something tugged at me. Something was off.I stopped abruptly, narrowing my eyes and letting my senses stretch.The air was still, no unusual sounds. The flickering torches along the stone walls burned as they always did, casting long shadows. My nose caught nothing strange either—no blood, no foreign scent. But the unease slithered deeper into my bones, coiling tightly in my chest.And then it hit me.A sudden sharp pain bloomed in the center of my chest, so strong and unexpected I staggered. My hand shot out to brace myself

Ronan’s povThe chamber was thick with the scent of polished wood, ink, and suppressed egos. Morning light streamed through the high glass windows, gilding the long council table in gold, but even that couldn’t brighten the mood. The moment the Marrowinds walked in—Chloe’s sickeningly sweet smile leading the way—I knew this wouldn’t be a peaceful meeting.I didn’t rise. I sat at the head of the table, flanked by two of my most trusted councilmen, and let the tension simmer. Let them squirm. I wasn’t here for pleasantries.Xavier Marrowind took the seat across from me, his dark eyes sweeping the room before settling on me like he had something to prove. Chloe followed, ever the perfect puppet, her parents close behind with their air of self-importance trailing after them like perfume.“Your Grace,” Lord Marrowind began, with a small bow. “You requested this audience?”“I did,” I said simply.I waited until they were all seated and still, the room quiet save for the occasional rustle of

Ronan’s POVAfter the war room incident with the marrowind, everyone went back to their own duties. I tried to avoid taking Lyra to my father as much as possible but the old twat still sent a guard to summon me to his office.He never gives up.The last time I stepped foot in my father’s off je, I was seventeen and bleeding from a cut over my brow—courtesy of one of his many “lessons in discipline.” The stone walls still held the same suffocating silence, like even the air didn’t dare speak without permission. Every painting was a stern portrait, and the curtains were dark enough to drain the sunlight of its will to shine. Just like Aldric himself.Now, ten years later, the old bastard had the nerve to summon me like some errand boy. I should’ve ignored him. But curiosity—and maybe a twisted sense of amusement—brought me to his door.I shoved the massive oak open without knocking, because formality between us died the day he broke my ribs and told me it was "character development."Al

Lyra’s POVI blinked, heart pounding in my chest as I looked between Ronan and Garrick, searching for some kind of anchor in this sea of confusion.What had he just called me?“Seraphina…” the former king whispered again, his eyes still wide, lips trembling like he was seeing a ghost. Like I was a ghost.I turned to Garrick, who leaned in and murmured with a stunned expression, “Seraphina was the name of the former princess. The one who vanished more than twenty years ago.”The blood drained from my face. Princess? Vanished? My throat tightened.I looked back at the former king. He was muttering under his breath, tears building in his eyes, completely unseeing.“I didn’t fail her… the prophecy… by the gods, the prophecy was real,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I didn’t fail her… I didn’t—”“What the hell is going on?” Ronan’s sharp voice sliced through the air like a blade.The old man blinked rapidly and seemed to come back to himself. He straightened slightly in his chair, rubbing