Alle Kapitel von The Alpha King is a Woman : Kapitel 141 – Kapitel 145

Four months later.The palace clearing looks exactly the way I remember it.That is what makes sitting here so satisfying.The same wide stretch of packed earth, beaten flat by generations of boots. The same stone platform, raised above the rest. The same rows of seats surrounding the clearing, filled with the faces of the pack.And the same throne where my father used to sit while women were dragged before him to be punished for disobedience.Only now, I am the one sitting on it.My hand rests over the gentle curve of my stomach as I watch the man kneeling in front of me, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped in a posture of defeat.Six months.That is how far along I am now.The baby moves beneath my palm, a small, sudden flutter, a tiny reminder that my life has changed in more ways than I ever imagined. A secret, shared joy in the middle of all this noise and judgment.I smile internally. "You're quite active today."Kei glances at my stomach from where he sits beside me on a slig

Two months later, the palace has learned a new word.Accountability.I like the way it tastes on my tongue. I like the way it makes stubborn men sweat, the way it makes their polished armor feel a size too tight.The class used to have another name.The Lunar Virtue Conclave. A place where young women were taught to lower their eyes, soften their voices, and obey their mates — to accept whatever life gave them without complaint, and to make themselves smaller so the men around them could feel bigger.I remember sitting through those lessons, the air thick with cloying perfume and unspoken resentment. I remember Matron Elswyth's cane tapping a relentless rhythm against the marble floor while she explained that silence was a woman's greatest virtue, that ambition was a sin, that a woman's highest calling was to be a pleasing, unobtrusive shadow to her mate.Now the class has a new name.The Lunar Conduct Assembly.And the students are men.I stand outside the heavy oak doors for a mome

For a moment, neither of us speaks. His face is pale, his eyes wide with a terror I have never seen in him before. Not for himself. Not for the kingdom he lost to me. But for me."Father?""Don't argue," His voice comes out rough, strained.He lifts me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I stare at him, completely bewildered. "Put me down.""No.""I can walk.""You can barely stand." His tone is firm, but there is no cruelty in it. No command meant to break me. Just raw, desperate concern.He starts carrying me toward the exit, his long strides eating up the distance. Turning to the guards, he barks, "Call the hospital. Tell them to prepare for the King. Now."The guards hurry ahead, their boots pounding on the stone floor. I stare at my father's face, at the lines of worry etched around his eyes, at the set of his jaw. My mother was right. Maybe he really is changing.For months she had been relentless, her voice a constant refrain in my ear. "The cell changed him, Ravelle