All Chapters of I Woke Up Engaged To An Alpha: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

PRINCESS SIGRUN OF WINDSMOOR[Three months ago…]“WHAT?” I screeched. “Mother, you cannot be serious!”“Compose yourself, Sigrun. A princess does not raise her voice like a common tavern wench,” Queen Astrid said, her voice dropping like a heavy sheet of ice.She didn't look up from her ledger. Her dip-pen continued its steady scratch-scratch across the parchment. Her calmness was driving me mad. "I am entirely serious," she continued, her tone so devoid of emotion it made my chest ache. “The old treaties must be renewed.""By giving me to them?" I stormed forward, my satin slippers clicking frantically against the polished wood floor. I gripped the edge of her heavy mahogany desk, leaning in. “You are sending me to the den of the beast that slaughtered his own parents, mother! Varul is a savage. They say he painted the walls of his own council chamber with the blood of his kin."Queen Astrid finally stopped writing. She set her pen down with deliberate slowness, then lifted her gaz

SIGRUN If the fortress’s library had a search bar, I would have typed How to not accidentally trigger natural disasters with your vâgina into it. Instead, I was perched six feet in the air on a wooden ladder, swallowing mouthfuls of centuries-old dust. This universe desperately needed to invent Gôo.gle. I pulled a massive, iron-bound tome from the top shelf, squinting at the faded silver lettering on the spine. Disinterested, I slammed it back into its slot, nearly losing my balance as the ladder groaned beneath my satin slippers. Not what I was looking for. Not even close. Any book that could explain what the hell I was supposed to do with the ticking time bomb of magic inside my marrow would be fantastic, thank you very much. But so far? The selection was a literal horror show. The only texts that even mentioned the word magic were terrifyingly detailed logs of public torture, trials, and executions compiled by the Northern High Council. I had spent the last two h

[Author’s Note: This chapter contains sp.an.king, power play. Reader’s discretion is advised]SIGRUNI made a run for it.With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I slammed both of my palms against his bare, tattooed chest. It was like pushing against a mountain, but the unexpected audacity of the move was enough to throw him off balance for a split second.I scrambled out of the bed and kicked free of the plush dark furs. I tumbled off the edge of the mattress, my bare feet hitting the cold stone floor, and I bolted.As I sprinted toward the massive oak doors, a fleeting, suspicious thought crossed my mind. That was too easy. There was absolutely no way a human-speed scramble should have caught an Alpha wolf off guard. He had let me slip away, deliberately giving me a head start just to see what I would do.I reached the door, my hands trembling as I grabbed the heavy iron bolt. I fumbled, trying to slide it back. I barely managed to crack the door open before—Slam.The heavy wood of the d

[Author’s Note: This chapter contains light b*on.dage, power play, edging. Reader’s discretion is advised.] SIGRUN He pinned me beneath the crushing weight of his naked body. His hand slid into my hair, his fingers threading deep and tight against the back of my scalp, locking my head in place. Then, he slammed his mouth down on mine. It was a dirty, punishing, consuming kiss. His tongue thrust past my lips with a possessive hunger that stole the very air from my lungs. My head swam, completely intoxicated by the taste of wine on his breath. Beneath him, I was acutely aware of every single inch of his bare skin pressing into mine and the rigid length of his c.o.ck pressing against my lower belly. While his mouth thoroughly wrecked mine, his free hand traveled down the flush of my stomach, sliding effortlessly between my trembling thighs. He easily found the soaking, desperate heat of my center, his thumb beginning to circle my hyper-sensitive cl.i.t in a mind-bending rhythm

SIGRUNOur destination wasn't a bustling market or a lively village square.As the stallion slowed to a walk, we entered a solemn, misty valley tucked between two massive, jagged cliffs. The air here smelled different…thick with the melancholy scent of burning pine and damp earth.“Talon Fang pack,” Varul informed me. “It is where the dead scouts come from.”We stepped into a wide clearing, and my breath caught.Hundreds of people were gathered in silence. They were dressed in dark, heavy furs, standing in a wide circle around a series of freshly dug graves and stone pyres. The only sound was the crackle of the flames and the low, collective humming of a mourning song that vibrated through the very dirt beneath the horse's hooves.It was a traditional werewolf burial ceremony.Varul dismounted smoothly, then reached up, his large hands wrapping around my waist to lower me to the ground. He didn't leave my side; his hand slid down, his gloved fingers wrapping firmly around mine, anch