All Chapters of The Alpha's reborn Luna: His Surrogate mate : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Charlotte."Don't drink that."The words burst from my lips before I could stop them. Jeffrey's hand froze halfway to the goblet, and both he and Emmalaine stared at me like I'd grown a second head.The Alpha King's dark eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"My heart pounded so hard I was sure they could hear it. This was it. My chance to change everything. "That drink. It's poisoned."Emmalaine's face went white, then flushed red with indignation. "How dare you!" She turned to Jeffrey, her voice rising to a shrill pitch. "This little omega is accusing me of trying to poison you!"Jeffrey set the goblet down on the nightstand, his massive frame radiating dangerous energy as he sat up fully. The sheets fell away from his chest, revealing scars that spoke of countless battles. "That's a very serious accusation, Charlotte. Are you saying my wife would poison me?”I could see the doubt in his eyes. Of course he would doubt me. I was nobody to him, just some desperate omega he'd agreed to help conce

Jeffrey.I woke in the darkness to her soft hands trailing across my chest. I no longer knew myself. Her scent was intoxicating and it was impossible for me to control my urge. My eyes were barely opened when my face was pressed into her neck, my wet, hard body covered hers. I rocked my hips gently against her softness, and I thought I might die, trapped between heaven and hell. I gripped her hand, forcing it down between us.“I want you.” I said as I pressed her hand against my erection.She gasped, her eyes flying to mine. What I saw in her eyes, silver in the moonlight, heightened my pleasure. She felt me pulsating beneath her palm, and felt the burning heat.“Hold me,” I said harshly. “Hard “Charlotte stood motionless, her heart slamming, and as if the devil was instructing her, her hands curled around me. I couldn't wait to claim her, make her mine. I clawed her clothes, tossing them to the ground. Without hesitation, I took my clothes off.She arched her body against mine. A lo

CHARLOTTE Slowly, I pushed the covers aside and swung my legs to the floor. My body felt heavy, yet a restless unease gnawed at me, compelling me forward. I padded barefoot toward the window, the cool morning air licking at my skin. Pulling it open, I leaned out, searching the gardens below, scanning every dark corner where someone might be hiding. Nothing. I shut the window with a shaky breath and turned back and froze.I gasped so sharply it hurt my throat. My hand flew to my chest as my pulse leapt. “What are you doing here?” I blurted, my voice trembling before I could stop it.The woman laughed softly, the sound smooth yet sharp, like silk covering a blade. Her presence seemed to swallow the air in the room. Matilda. The King’s stepmother. The so-called Queen Mother of this palace.Her gown was flawless, blood-red silk that shimmered like liquid fire. Her lips curled into a mocking smile as she sank onto the edge of my bed without permission, her movements graceful but dripping

ALPHA JEFFREY I wasn’t used to feeling unsettled by the past. The past, in my line of work and in my life, was a map—neatly folded, labeled, and tucked into the pocket of my coat. You consulted it when you needed to, never let it decide the next step. But that morning, over strong coffee and the damp chill of dawn, Isaiah made me open that pocket and spill what I had been carrying.Isaiah and I have been brothers in everything but blood. We grew up on the same broken block, scraped the same knees, learned the same rules: be useful, be quiet, and never let a weakness show. He’d been my right hand through business deals and street fights, a man whose jokes could make a grizzly grin. But today, he sat across from me with a face that read alarmed more than amused.“You look like you’ve been wrestling with a ghost,” he said, leaning back in my study chair, fingers threaded behind his head like a king. His boots thudded against the floor, solid and steady.“I wish it was only a ghost,” I s

CHARLOTTE The stone was cold and rough against my back as I pressed myself tighter into the shadows. My heartbeat thundered in my chest, so loud I was certain it would betray us. Lyra clung to my sleeve, her thin fingers trembling as we crouched behind the jagged slab of rock. Her eyes were wide, glistening with the kind of fear that spoke louder than any words her muted lips could utter.And then, she came.Emmalaine glided into the chamber with that dangerous elegance of hers, the hem of her crimson gown whispering against the stone floor. In her hand, she carried a lantern, its light casting eerie shapes against the carved walls smeared with dark symbols. She stopped before the altar and retrieved a small glass vial.The liquid inside swirled unnaturally, black and glimmering, alive as though it breathed. She held it up with reverence and began to whisper incantations in a tongue that curled around my bones like frost. Each word tightened the air in the chamber, thickening it unti