All Chapters of FAKE BRIDE OF THE ALPHA KING : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Briar’s POVThe training session was over after what felt like more than an hour. Lunch was laid out outside, and my body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together wrong. Azrael had very well kept to his words. But still, every muscle in me ached.My arms trembled when I reached for the glass of water, but beneath all the pain, there was a strange, quiet satisfaction.Azrael sat across from me, perfectly composed and calm as ever. As if he hadn’t just put me through hell and then heaven right after.I caught myself watching him without realizing it. The way he moved during the training. The ease of his strength, like it was a natural extension of his body rather than something he ever had to think about. The authority that clung to him without effort.I forced my gaze away, only for it to betray me and drift right back again.Of course, he noticed.“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll fuck you right here in the open,” he said calmly, not even bothering to look up

Briar's POV The cheers thinned into murmurs, then fractured into whispers that skittered restlessly across the ballroom.I felt the change immediately. The subtle recoil of bodies, the way conversations stalled mid-sentence. Even the most powerful elites seemed to hesitate, as though something older than logic had reached into them.“Is that…?” someone breathed behind me.“It can’t be,” another voice replied, strained.My gaze didn’t waver.The woman moved forward at an unhurried pace, each step unbothered by the attention drawing tight around her. She didn’t announce herself. She didn’t have to. Her presence swallowed the room whole, bending the atmosphere around her as if it were a willing thing.Power clung to her, coiling around her silhouette. Her robe, a simple deep indigo, swished quietly against the floor as she walked. The faint embroidery along the hem caught the light for a moment before fading back into the fabric.Her long dark hair, streaked with silver, was bound in in

Azrael hadn’t returned.Hours had passed since the argument. Since he stormed out angrily, slamming the door. His words replayed endlessly in my head, each repetition cutting deeper than the last.I had never expected to be an original bride. But a fake bride? That was what I couldn’t reconcile. If that was all I was to him, then I needed to understand why he’d chosen me at all.Why did he need a fake bride?The question gnawed at me, circling endlessly. And the way he lashed out, he had never been that angry with me before. It was as if something I’d said had struck far deeper than he’d intended to reveal.Dinner arrived and passed without him. I ate alone, barely tasting anything, the silence stretching longer with each passing minute. It wasn’t until later in the evening that the door finally opened.He came in quietly, the door closing behind him with a finality that made my chest tighten. “I owe you an apology,” he said at last. His voice was stripped of the storm from earlier.

36Azrael's POVClose to noon, I found myself leaving the palace and heading to the one place I would rather not set foot in.Ayanju’s home sat at the edge of the city, a simple, well-built stone structure. A short path led to the front door, bordered by trimmed grass that suggested regular upkeep. It looked like any other residence one might pass without a second glance. The door opened before I could raise my hand to knock.I stepped in. The interior was surprisingly neat and uncluttered. Shelves lined the walls, carefully arranged with items. Bowls, small glass vials stoppered with wax, lengths of thread dyed in deep, unnatural hues. The air carried a faint, clean scent, sharp and herbal, like crushed leaves and smoke that had long since settled. Symbols were etched subtly into the woodwork and stone. A low table sat at the center of the room, its surface marked by faint scorch lines and shallow grooves, evidence of rituals performed and cleaned away.“To what do I owe this visi

Briar's POV I struggled for my life.I twisted my wrists, kicked against the bark, shoved my weight forward, backward, anything to break free. The vines only tightened, biting into my skin like living wire. I hissed in pain as they cut deeper, heat flaring along my arms and ribs. My breaths turned sharp and uneven.“Let go,” I gasped, the words tearing out of me more like a plea than a command.The vines constricted again, hard enough to make my vision blur. I cried out this time, my head falling back against the tree. My pulse roared in my ears, panic clawing up my throat. I fought until my muscles burned, until the strength drained out of me, until resistance felt useless.I stopped moving.The moment I did, the pressure vanished.The vines loosened without warning, slithering away from my body as if they had never been there at all. I barely had time to register it before my legs gave out. I hit the ground hard, breath punching out of me as pain flared through my back and shoulder