Todos los capítulos de The Alpha King is a Woman : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Because if they think this ends with me broken—think cuffs make me powerless—Then every single one of them is already dead. They just don’t know it yet.“Take her back to the cage. Not her chambers.”My father doesn’t even look at me as he lifts his hand. A few Alphas laugh openly—men who would beg at my feet in another world.“Lock her down until her wedding day,” he continues coldly. “Increase security. If she so much as dreams of escaping, every guard on duty will lose his head. Along with his family.”Fear sharpens obedience faster than loyalty ever could.The guards don’t meet my eyes as they move. Hands clamp around my arms—rough, unforgiving—dragging me from the throne so violently my knees scrape against stone, as if I was never meant to sit there at all.I don’t give them the satisfaction of screaming. I let them drag me because this isn’t the end.They throw me back into the same silver-lined cell and slam the door shut, the sound crawling straight into my bones. It’s too c

My warriors are already waiting, clustered near the entrance door, faces grim and eyes sharp.“Alpha,” one of them says carefully, “she’s nowhere in the hotel. We checked every floor. Every stairwell. Every storage room.” He exhales. “We tore through the ventilation shafts, the laundry chutes, the service tunnels—hell, we checked gaps behind walls barely wide enough for a child to squeeze through.”Another warrior shakes his head. “No trace. Not even on the security feeds. It’s like she dissolved into thin air.”My fists curl at my sides.She’s an omega.Or at least… she smells like one.So where the hell would she go?I stare at him, disbelief simmering into rage. “She was here." I snap. “Don’t tell me an omega just evaporated.”This is my first time in this hotel—territory owned by the Alpha King himself. I came on a business summons, one of the most prominent alphas invited to compete for the princess’s hand.And the throne.I’m not the only alpha here. Packs from every corner of t

I take my seat near the back, folding my cuffed hands neatly on the desk, and exhale slowly.At least Matron Elswyth isn’t here yet. She’s late, and for that I thank the Moon for small mercies. Without her droning voice reminding us that women exist to kneel and spread our legs in the name of tradition, my mind can actually breathe. Enduring her without my wolf would be pure torture.I’m halfway lost in my thoughts when someone steps into my space.“Congratulations on your marriage,” a cheerful voice chirps.I look up.Two girls stand in front of me.The first looks excited—practically vibrating with it. The second looks like she’s swallowed poison and decided to blame me for the taste. No—worse. She looks like she wants to poison my tea instead.“Your wedding is tomorrow,” the excited one continues. “How do you feel?”“The same,” I reply flatly.That does not go over well.The other girl scoffs. “You don’t look happy. One would think it’s your funeral, not your wedding.”“Maybe it is

I come alone this time.No warriors flanking me.No claws itching beneath my skin or threats riding my shoulders like armor.This isn’t a siege.It’s a negotiation. And negotiations only work when you don’t walk in smelling like blood. Gods help anyone who mistakes that for weakness.Unlike the last time I stepped into this palace—when I came ready to burn it down stone by stone, my wolf half-mad, my men barely holding me back, the scent of my missing mate burning a hole straight through my ribs.Now?Now it’s different.I walk in steady, my emotions checked, because every reckless move I make puts her in danger—and that’s a line I will never cross.Still… the palace hits me like it always does.I’ve been here a few times for business meetings, but I never stay. I always return to my pack the same day. Most of the time, I send Kael in my place and let him deal with the politics and pretty words.The palace gates open without resistance, heavy iron groaning like they recognize me.Mass

Kei looks at me like he’s trying to peel me apart layer by layer and count the sins in between.It shouldn’t hurt. It does.His gaze is a weight on my chest—heavy, unrelenting, almost physical. I can see the wheels turning in his head, grinding, rearranging every memory he has of me into something sharper and more dangerous. For one stupid, treacherous second, I think he doesn’t feel it.Then his jaw clenches.The look in his eyes—pure, raw hurt—punches straight through me, and guilt blooms hot and ugly behind my ribs. I crush it down just as fast. He never asked who I was. He was too busy trying to mark me, claim me, prove something to his world, his wolf, and his damned pride to even learn my name.Too busy trying to get between my legs to learn my story.Yes, he chased me when he thought I was only an omega. He held me like I was something broken after seeing my cuffed hands. Made me feel safe. That almost makes it worse. Maybe, once, he deserved the truth, but it still isn’t my fa