บททั้งหมดของ Bankrupting the Alpha: Crowned by the Dragon King: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

The music faded into a lingering chord, and for a moment, the world was just the heat of Sol’s hand in mine. But as we began to step off the floor, the bubble of the dance burst. A tall, broad-shouldered man intercepted us. His hair was a shock of white, and his eyes had the pale, predatory stillness of a Siberian lion shifter. He bowed low, his gaze lingering on me with a mix of curiosity and blatant hunger. To him, and to everyone else in this room, I was still just the mysterious girl on the Prince’s arm—the "Help" who had somehow returned in silver silk. "Your Highness," the lion shifter said, nodding to Sol before turning his full attention to me. "And to his guest. I believe a dance is the traditional way for a Prince to introduce his... associates... to the other Packs. May I?" He reached out a hand, clearly intending to test who I was and what I meant to Sol. To the room, I was a wildcard. They knew the Silver Pack had funded the gala, but they assumed the Alpha was some s

The transition from the elegance of the ballroom to the cold, clinical efficiency of the tactical transport was seamless. We weren't just a group of students and a Prince anymore; we were a strike team. As the heavy armored doors of the transport hissed shut, Molly took her seat at the comms station. She was far more than just a confused teenager. She was the winner of my most rigorous Seminary Challenge, a girl who had stunned me only twenty-four hours ago by handing me a dossier that shouldn't have existed. She hadn't just tracked my life; she had mapped my bloodline, proving I wasn't just a rogue, but the Rightful Queen of the Highland Wolves. She had earned her place at this table with blood and data. "He's pushing the speed, Alpha," Molly said, her voice steady as she monitored the glowing trail on her tablet. "He’s crossed the Sandwell border. He thinks he’s in the clear." "Keep the signature locked, Molly," I commanded, checking the load on my tactical gauntlets. "Sol, yo

The room was small, lit by a flickering, artificial hum that cast long shadows against the reinforced steel. In the center, lying on a thin cot that looked more like a slab, was a woman who looked like a fallen sun.Her skin was a translucent ivory, and her hair—a wild, tangled mane of fire-red—spilled over her shoulders. Even in this state of obvious exhaustion, her beauty was regal, though her breathing was shallow and erratic, as if her very soul was struggling to remain tethered to her body.Before Sol could even take a step toward her, a blur of movement blocked our path.The vacant-eyed child from the office upstairs had somehow scrambled down behind us, and he was no longer silent. He lunged forward, throwing his small, bony frame directly over the woman. He bared his teeth, a low, desperate growl vibrating in his chest that sounded more like a wounded cub than a boy."Leave my mom alone!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with a terrifying mixture of fear and fury. "Don't touch

The roar of the helicopter was suddenly drowned out by a sound like a mountain shattering. Below us, the Alpha’s estate didn't just burn—it detonated. Leo didn't even stand up; he simply raised one small, trembling hand toward the window. A pillar of white-hot, draconic fire erupted from the center of the house, vaporizing the stone and the hollow-eyed creatures climbing the walls in a single, cleansing heartbeat. The heat was so intense the helicopter’s alarms shrieked, the thermal sensors red-lining as the flames licked the glass. But the fire didn't burn us. It curled around the airframe like a loyal hound, tamed by the silent command of the six-year-old in my arms. The "wolves" below didn't even have time to howl. They were simply gone. In the corner, Carlo collapsed to his knees, his face ghostly white. "By the gods..." he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and pure, unadulterated terror. Marcus didn't loosen his grip on Carlo’s collar. He leaned in, his v

I sat in the dim glow of the medical monitors, my hand still anchored by Leo’s small, hot fingers. Even in a deep, medicated sleep, he wouldn't let go. Across the glass partition, the scene was a tableau of royal heartbreak: the King, Sol, and Marcus stood like three pillars of shadow around the Queen’s bed. They looked powerful enough to level cities, yet they looked utterly helpless. The lead physician, a man who had served the Silver Pack for years, slipped into the room. He moved with a practiced quiet, glancing at the sleeping boy before leaning in close. "Alpha," he whispered, his face etched with a grim professionalism. "The Queen... it’s not just physical. She is severely malnourished, yes, but her heart isn't in the recovery. The psychologist says she’s entered a state of maternal stasis. She’s refusing to eat, refusing to cooperate with the healers. She keeps repeating that she won't get better until her daughter is found." I looked through the glass at her fire-red hair,