Sold To The Monster Alpha のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Rosalie’s POV “Guards,” Dominic’s voice cut through the mounting chaos like a broadsword, instantly freezing the frantic murmurs of the room. He didn’t lift his eyes from the blue-and-silver folder in his hands. “Arrest the Grand Chancellor. Detain him in the high-security wing immediately on grounds of manipulating imperial assets and compromising classified state intelligence for further questioning and interrogation.”“Your Majesty! This is madness! She is a fraud, a liar!” the Chancellor shrieked, his face twisting into a mask of pure panic as four heavily armed royal guards slammed him against the mahogany table. The heavy metal of handcuffs clicked around his wrists with a cold, definitive snap. His frantic, echoing protests were cut off mid-scream as he was brutally dragged out of the strategy chamber.The remaining tributes stood frozen, their eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and sheer terror. They were pampered, shallow girls who had never seen the violent gears of t

Rosalie’s POVThe tribute quarters had been transformed into an unbearable, high-decibel war room of silk, aerosol perfumes, and sharp-edged desperation. Word had spread through the palace corridors like a contagion by midday: tonight was the Midwinter Gala, and for the first time since the Selection had commenced, the Alpha King would be personally selecting tributes to join him on the ballroom floor.The other girls were practically vibrating with a frantic, feral energy. I watched Vanessa’s old inner circle whispering in furious huddles, trading jars of rare, crushed-pearl shimmer and debating which cut of neckline would best draw Dominic’s golden gaze. To them, tonight was a coronation in disguise. They were pampered, high-born daughters of regional Alphas, bred to glide across polished marble, to smile on cue, and to capture a monarch’s favor with a well-timed tilt of a jeweled throat.I, however, felt entirely out of body.“Stop moving, Cynthia. If I pin this silk incorrectl

Rosalie’s POVThe heavy, double-timbered doors of the Grand Ballroom slammed shut behind us, cutting off the suffocating swell of the orchestra and the low, toxic hum of the high-society whispers.“Step out, Cynthia. Keep your pace even,” Gemma muttered, her shoulder brushing mine as we navigated the wider, vaulted transition corridor. Her sharp eyes skipped over the marble pillars, scanning the intersecting hallways with a cold, protective vigilance. “The King threw you directly into the spotlight, which means every corrupt lord on that council is currently calculating how much it will cost to buy a silent blade. We are heading straight back to our quarters.”I kept my jaw locked, my fingers subconsciously smoothing down the midnight-blue silk of my skirt. The heat of Dominic’s hand still felt like a physical brand against the small of my back, a ghostly imprint burning through the heavy fabric. He had cornered me, exposed my deeply humiliating lack of aristocratic training, and t

Dominic’s POVThe silver-rimmed crystal glass shattered in my grip, thick shards biting into my palm before the high-born daughter of the Southern Marches could even finish her vapid, practiced giggle.Liquid gold champagne mixed with the dark crimson of my blood, dripping steadily onto the polished marble floor of the Grand Ballroom. I didn’t blink. I didn’t register the sharp spike of physical pain. My entire body had locked into a rigid, lethal frequency, my senses screaming a fraction of a second before the heavy oak doors at the back of the hall creaked open.“Alpha King,” Beta Thomas murmured, his shadow falling over my shoulder as he leaned down, his voice carrying a clinical, muted panic that only my ears could catch. “The obsidian sentinels at the western crimson wing just reported in. The target never arrived.”A violent, unbridled wave of alpha pressure erupted from my frame so suddenly that the air in a ten-foot radius around me turned instantly cold. The southern girl

Dominic’s POVThe brief, fracturing spike of clarity she had given me in the depths of the boiler room didn’t last.By the time I carried her halfway up the steep, narrow stone steps of the maintenance sector, the adrenaline that had dragged my name from her lips completely evaporated. The heavy, protective warmth of my cedar-and-frost Alpha scent was rolling over her in suffocating waves, but it wasn’t enough to keep her anchored. Her fingers, which had been weakly clutching the silver buttons of my shirt, slowly lost their strength. They slipped away, falling limp and heavy against my chest.“Cynthia,” I growled softly, my pace quickening as I cleared the threshold of the subterranean vaults and burst into the wider, torch-lit corridors of the palace’s lower levels. “Stay with me. Look at me.”She didn’t answer. She didn’t even blink.The frantic chaos of the castle was deafening all around us. Squads of royal guards were sprinting through the hallways, their armor clanking lou