All Chapters of The Alpha King Is Our Daddy: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Vincent’s POVThe palace had been too quiet since the training-rail accident—until Mother swept into my study, scattering stillness like dust.“These walls feel like they’re meant for ghosts,” she said, sitting down without waiting for permission. “And I’m not a ghost. Take me outside before I turn into one.”I set the ledger aside. “Mother…”“Don’t ‘Mother’ me.” Her look could crack stone. “I’ve spent half my life beyond pack walls. I won’t start rotting inside them. A walk. Fresh air. And Myra—she’s been shelved like porcelain. The girl needs sand on her shoes.”Myra looked up from her carved wolves, eyes lighting. “Outside?”“Of course, little star.”Refusing twice would only give Mother new ammunition. “Fine,” I said. “South Park. With guards.”“Good boy,” she said, rising. “Try using that smile while you’re at it.”By the time the carriage stopped at the gates, Myra was nearly trembling with excitement. She insisted on her cloak though the air was warm. I lifted her down. “Stay c

Adeline’s POVThe patient’s body was cold with blood loss but hot with infection. His skin burned beneath my gloves as I worked, sweat prickling behind my mask. The room stank of metal and antiseptic—blood and bleach fighting for air.Monitors beeped steady, tauntingly calm. The sound of my own breathing filled the space between them. Every second I stitched was a war against the past.Dr. Han steadied the retractor beside me, his brow furrowed. “These wounds…” His voice trailed off, then sharpened. “Adeline, you’ve seen this before. This isn’t a knife. Not claws either. They look like…”“A wild beast,” I cut in, too fast. My tone snapped sharper than the scalpel in my hand. “Maybe a wolf-dog. We’ll know when he wakes.”Han frowned. “Wild beasts don’t leave marks this clean.”My fingers tightened on the needle holder. One slip and he’d bleed out. One look, and Han would see what I was hiding. The smell of antiseptic burned, but beneath it lingered something older—iron, musk, and moonl

Vincent’s POVThe young nurse nearly tripped over her own shoes when she spotted me at the end of the corridor. Clipboard hugged to her chest, breath shallow, she bowed quickly before speaking.“Your Majesty—the princess has been treated already. Her knee was bandaged. The doctor says it’s nothing serious.”My steps quickened, swallowing her words.Treated. Already?Dr. Lean had been here.Relief struck first, hard and unsteady. It loosened a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, but it carried something else with it too—unease. Because that woman never lingered longer than she needed to.I strode through the press of uniforms and white coats, guards stepping aside instinctively. The hum of voices, the clatter of trays, the sharp scent of antiseptic—it all blurred. And then I felt it.A scent.Not perfume. Not medicine.Older. Deeper. Something my body remembered before my mind caught up.Herbs crushed between fingers. Lavender mixed with smoke. Pine and olive tangled together.I

Vincent’s POVThe call ended with a clean, merciless click.For a breath, I felt…satisfied. Petty, yes. But real. For once it wasn’t her pulling away—it was me shutting the door. She had refused me, refused Myra, and I’d answered with finality.The satisfaction faded fast. Guilt slid in its place. Myra’s small smile—bright, breakable—rose in my mind, and I hated that my pride had touched even the shadow of it.Better anger than admitting you still want her voice, I told myself.Adam stirred. Coward.“I’m king,” I muttered, pocketing the phone. “Not a boy begging at a door.”Then rule. Stop bleeding over it.Before I could answer him, the council chamber doors opened. My mother entered first, soft skirts cutting the room like a blade hidden in silk. Calm face; warning eyes.“Vincent,” Rosalinde said, brisk. “Delilah’s parents arrive this evening.”I stilled. “Her parents?”“Their tribe controls the northern timber lanes and three mountain passes.” Her glance was sharp enough to flay. “

Adeline’s POVI was almost done cleaning the instruments when the email came in.The tray shook in my hands, metal tools clattering against each other.It was from Rowan — Vincent’s Beta.His right hand. His voice when the King didn’t want to speak himself.The name in my inbox was like a ghost reaching through the screen. My throat dried instantly. Rowan never wrote unless it carried the full weight of Vincent’s command.The sterile smell of disinfectant turned sour in my nose, and even the low hum of the overhead light pressed against my chest. I tried to close the laptop, but my fingers wouldn’t move fast enough.Clara leaned over before I could. We’d started as colleagues, trading night shifts and cheap cafeteria coffee, and somewhere along the way she’d become the only person I trusted outside the clinic walls. She didn’t know everything about me—she never pushed—but she could always tell when my chest went tight like this. Her gasp cut through the quiet.“Don’t tell me that’s wh