All Chapters of The Maid Who Stole My Alpha: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

(Otsana POV)The broken bracelet lay at my knees like a dead snake, and the silver crown mark beneath it burned with my mother’s hidden truth.For one breath, I could not hear the courtyard, the wolves, the shouting, or even Adolphus laughing from the Alpha hall.I heard only my own heart breaking around a question I had been trained never to ask.Why did she hide power inside me if she wanted me forgotten?The mark glowed beneath my skin, shaped like moon branches wrapped around a shadow wolf, and every pulse felt older than pain.Daciana stood before me with Rudina’s crown locked on her head, blood at her hairline, and horror softening her face despite everything between us.I hated that softness.I hated needing it.I hated that my body wanted to crawl toward the only person who looked at the mark as if it was not a curse.Adolphus had told me the bracelet was proof Rudina buried me in shadow because I was the daughter darkness deserved.He had told me Daciana carried the crown bec

(Daciana POV)The first Blood Feather book opened beneath the bell tower, and the drawing of the unborn child stared up with two crowns above its head.For one breath, nobody moved, because even the old bell rope seemed to hang silently over a future already stolen before birth.Ashina knelt beside the open stone, one hand over her stomach, tears sliding down her face without beauty, timing, or control.The name Maelor wrote itself again across the page, black ink crawling like living veins over the old yellow paper.Conri stood near the stairway with his sword ready, while Bardolph watched the book like it might bite through history itself.I touched the crown locked around my head, feeling the red stones pulse toward the unborn child’s name beneath my fingertips.“Maelor,” I whispered, and the name tasted like something chosen by a man who believed babies were easier to own than kingdoms.Ashina shook her head violently, her fingers clawing at the stone floor as if she could scrape

(Daciana POV)The altar chamber held its breath after I asked Bardolph what his father had said before he chose not to remember.The crown tightened around my head, and the living bond between us pulled like a wounded rope soaked in old blood.Bardolph stood before me with ash on his clothes, shame in his eyes, and the altar’s red light burning beneath his name.For once, no elder spoke over me, no maid cried over me, and no Alpha command tried to turn my question into silence.Only Bardolph’s answer stood between us.He looked at the altar, then at the open Blood Feather book, then finally at me.“I was sixteen,” he said, and his voice came rough enough to tell me the memory had been buried with fear.“My father had taken me into the old council room after a border meeting with men I thought were only elders.”The altar pulsed, and the red line beneath his name brightened as if it recognized the road his confession had begun.“I heard him say Blackfang had not lost Rudina’s daughter,

(Daciana POV)Conri’s throne still dripped Blood Feather blood when the servants began disappearing from kitchens, stables, laundries, nurseries, and hidden lower passages.At first, the nobles thought fear had scattered them, because nobles often mistake silence for obedience when servants stop answering bells.But Rieka noticed the missing aprons folded the same way, placed near doorways like signs left for people who knew how to read work.Due to the ash marks on the floor, faint gray lines brushed across thresholds by hands trained to hide messages inside cleaning.Tala noticed the empty water buckets, all turned upside down, which meant no servant would carry another command until they had chosen their own.I noticed the silence.It was not frightened silence.It was gathering silence.The kind of silence that happens when people who have been ignored for years finally decide to speak where masters cannot interrupt.Rieka stood beside me in the lower corridor, arms crossed, face

(Daciana POV)The servants’ marks wake around me, and the moon drags both daughters toward a ceremony none of us can escape.)Every scarred servant in the bakehouse cellar screamed at once, and the sound rose like old chains remembering every wrist they had touched.Black feathers burned beneath healed skin, across wrists, throats, shoulders, and palms, turning hidden wounds into open doors for Adolphus’s command.Otsana lay in my arms with blood on her lips, her silver crown mark dark, and her Blood Feather mark pulsing like a second heart.I held her tighter, not because she trusted me, but because letting her fall felt too much like letting Adolphus win another daughter.Conri shouted orders above the screams, sending Northridge guards to block the stairs before frightened nobles could turn servants into enemies again.Bardolph moved to the opposite doorway, his burned hand lifted but careful, because one wrong command from him could still sound like old ownership.Rieka dragged Ma