All Chapters of Bound to the Alpha Twins: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

70 Chapters

We Need to Talk

"He kissed you.""Yes.""In the corridor.""Yes.""In the palace." Pilar sat back in her chair and looked at me like I had just told her the sky was green. "Kaelan...kissed you.""Pilar," I whined."I am processing.""You have been processing for five minutes.""It is a lot to process." She pressed both hands flat on the table and looked at them. Then at me. "And you kissed him back.""The bond—""I know about the bond, Ophelia. I am asking about you. Did you kiss him back?"My gaze fell to the table. "Yes."She exhaled slowly, the breath of someone absorbing something significant and making room for it. "And then you stopped.""Yes.""Because of Lucian."I did not answer.The kitchen was warm. My mother had gone to the market, leaving us alone with so much to catch up on.Pilar waited."I stopped because I thought of his face," I said."Whose face?""Lucian's."Pilar nodded, not understanding but still not pushing."He laughed at me," I said. "In the library. He leaned in like he was

The Trap

Elder Maris did not wait to be invited in.She stepped over the threshold with the ease of someone who had entered many rooms uninvited and had long since stopped apologising for it. She was small, smaller than she had seemed in the council chamber, her grey braid tight against her head, her cloak dark and plain. Nothing about her announced what she was.Pilar had not moved from her spot near the door. She stood with her bag still over her shoulder and her chin at the particular angle that meant she had not decided anything yet.Elder Maris glanced at her."I will need a moment alone with your friend," she stated.Pilar looked at me, then at Elder Maris. "With respect—""Pilar," I said quietly.Her jaw tightened. "I will be outside," she said, and her tone made it clear that outside meant close and listening and ready.She slipped past the older woman and pulled the door behind her, not fully closed.Elder Maris studied me."Sit," she said.I sat.Elder Maris remained standing. She loo

The Book

Pilar left when the sky turned dark.She did not want to go. I could see it in the way she lingered at the door, her hand on the frame, her boots not quite stepping out."You should stay," I said."You should sleep.""I cannot sleep.""Then read." She nodded at the book on the table. "Read until your eyes close. That is what I would do.""You would fall asleep on the pages and wake up with ink on your face."She almost smiled. "Probably.""I am sorry about earlier. I should not have raised my voice.""It does not matter. You are going through a lot, Ophelia, so I understand there are emotions you are holding in." Her eyes were sincere. "I should be the one apologising for pressuring you, okay?"Her gaze caught something behind me. "I will leave you to it then."Then she was gone. The door closed. Her footsteps faded down the path.I sat alone in the kitchen.The fire had burned low and the room was cold, autumn having settled in. I pulled my mother's shawl from the back of the chair an

What Have You Sent Us?

Beneath the full moon, hidden within a forest of huge trees, was a little room.Its walls were old and its ceiling sagged. The floor had not been swept in years. A single candle burned on the table, its flame flickering unsteadily, casting shadows that seemed to move on their own.Elder Obelix sat in a corner, a few feet away from a woman whose name he had never learned. He had known her for twenty years. He had never asked. She was simply 'the sage'. That was enough."The spell takes time," she said."How much time?""Weeks. Maybe more. Blood is stubborn."Obelix shifted in his chair. It creaked under his weight. "You said you could read it quickly.""I said I could try." The sage did not look up from the bowl between them. The liquid inside was dark, thick, the color of old wine, and it pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. "The blood does not want to be read. Something is blocking me.""Something or someone?"She looked at him then. Her eyes shifted as he watched, dark one moment, then

The Council Will Not Care

The cold did not care about etiquette.It came in from the north the way it always did in autumn, finding every gap in my coat and every patch of exposed skin. My breath fogged in front of me. My fingers were numb around the spine of the book.Pilar did not seem to notice the cold. She stood in the middle of my mother's garden with the book open in her hands and the expression of a woman who had found her calling entirely too late in life."Again," she said."Pilar-""Again. You dropped your eyes too early. The curtsy requires a count of three, and you came up at two.""It is freezing out here.""The Council will not care if you are cold. The Queen will not care if your fingers are numb. Again."I pressed my lips together and repositioned my feet. The frost crunched under my boots. The garden was dead, the flowers long gone, the herbs brown and brittle along the fence. My mother had tried to cover them before the first frost. She had not been fast enough.I bent to curtsy.One. Eyes do

The Restless Alpha

The tournament grounds were packed.Warriors from across Silver Fang had gathered for the seasonal matches, a tradition as old as the pack itself. Nobles sat in the shaded stands, their fine clothes bright against the grey stone. Servants moved through the crowd with trays of drink and bread. The sun was high and hot, and the dust from the ring hung in the air like gold.Kaelan did not care for any of it.His opponent lunged. Kaelan sidestepped, caught the man's arm, and twisted it sharply. The crack of bone was audible even over the crowd's roar. The man fell hard, his face contorted, his hand hanging at an angle it was not meant to hang.He did not get up.Kaelan stood over him, chest heaving, his practice blade loose in his hand. He did not look at the man. He looked at the tournament master."Next," he said.The crowd went quiet.The tournament master hesitated. He was an old warrior, grey-haired and scarred, a man who had seen decades of blood spilled in this ring. He had never se

The Silver River

It came before dawn and pulled me under completely. When it let me go, I was somewhere else entirely.I was small.I didn’t realize it at first until I saw my short-fingered, soft hands. Everything around me felt oversized and strange, and a helpless weight settled deep in my chest.I was sitting on a woman’s lap. I could only see the dark blue fabric of her dress and feel her arms wrapped around me, her heartbeat steady and strong against my back. The cloth smelled faintly of wildflowers and sun-warmed linen. The carriage jolted over uneven ground, sending blurred shapes of trees and hills drifting past the window.A broad-shouldered man sat across from us, his hands resting on his knees, face turned toward the passing world.“They will not follow this far,” the woman said quietly.“They always follow,” he answered, voice low and tired. “We both know that.”“Then we keep moving.”“There is nowhere left to go.”Her arms tightened around me, protectively.“There is always somewhere,” sh

You Were Never Made to Be Small

Four days had passed by swiftly and I was up before the sun.The cottage was cold and quiet, as I moved through it carefully, not wanting to wake my mother, my feet finding the familiar floorboards that did not creak.I stood in the middle of the kitchen in my nightdress and practiced.The curtsy first. One foot behind the other, spine straight, eyes down.One. Two. Three. Rise.Hands loose at my sides. Chin level.Then the walk, legs moving back and forth at an unhurried pace.Next, I tried the bow, a quick dip of acknowledgment for council members, shorter and less submissive than the curtsy. It was a gesture that said I see you without saying I am beneath you.Then the address. The correct titles, the correct order of greeting, who outranked whom and what that meant for where my eyes went and whether I spoke first or waited.By the time the sun rose and the first sounds of the ridge drifted through the walls; a gate opening, someone calling a name into the early morning, my body was

What They Knew Best

The fire had burned in the hearth, its dying embers casting a weak reddish glow across the large stone chamber.Shadows stretched long and unsteady over the wooden furniture and thick fur rugs. The air hung heavy with the mingled scents of spent passion; sweat, candle wax and something sweeter: sex.A single candle flickered on the bedside table, its wax dripping slowly onto the dark wood.Niverna lay completely naked on the tangled silk sheets, her skin still flushed and damp from their rigorous exertions. Her red hair spilled wildly across the white pillows.She watched through half-lidded eyes as Lucian rolled out of bed, his powerful, scarred body moving with that familiar grace that had clung to him ever since she knew him.He did not glance back at her for a second.He reached down for his discarded clothes scattered across the floor, muscles flexing under his skin.She stretched languidly, arching her back like a cat, then pushed herself up on one elbow. A small, knowing smirk p

Portraits Watching Me

"You are going to be late," Pilar said from the doorway, her arms crossed and her hair still wet from washing."I am not going to be late," I answered, "the carriage is not even here yet."My mother stood behind her, wiping her hands on her apron."You packed everything?" my mother asked. "Yes," I replied."The book?" "Yes.""The salve?" "Yes, Mama."She nodded but did not look at me, her gaze fixed on the bag by the door, on the worn handle and the buckle she had fixed herself two winters ago.Pilar uncrossed her arms. "She will be fine.""You do not know that," my mother replied."I know her," Pilar said, looking at me. "She is stubborn and that counts for something."My mother finally turned, her eyes moving over my face, my coat, my hands."You have everything?""I do, mother."The carriage arrived then, the horses' breath fogging in the cold air while the guards sat up front with their faces blank. Pilar pulled me into a tight, brief hug."Do not die.""I will try not to," I answ

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