Todos os capítulos de Married to the Alpha Who Killed My Father: Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

Rurik's investigation into the mysterious gift's origin yielded far less success than his earlier work uncovering Damion's original conspiracy or Vell's later betrayal; he reported this frustration to Aria and Kade nearly two weeks after the wedding, his expression carrying genuine professional irritation at the trail's persistent elusiveness.He had spent those two weeks pursuing every avenue his considerable experience could devise, questioning gate guards repeatedly for any overlooked detail, sending discreet inquiries to merchant contacts who might have crossed paths with the elusive courier, even attempting to trace the fine paper and distinctive wax seal back to whatever craftsman had originally supplied them. Each avenue, frustratingly, arrived at the same dead end."The courier who delivered it arrived and departed on foot," he reported, "rather than by horse or carriage, which considerably complicates tracing his route. Our gate guards recall only a nonde

Elara thrived in the weeks following her birth, growing steadily stronger and more alert with each passing day, and Aria found herself settling into motherhood with a natural, instinctive tenderness that surprised her almost as much as it delighted her.She marveled, some mornings, at how quickly the ordinary rhythms of new motherhood had replaced the anxious vigilance that had once defined so much of her adult life, feeding schedules and gentle lullabies now occupying the same careful attention she'd once reserved for archive records and forged confessions, a transformation she found herself grateful for daily, however exhausting the sleepless nights occasionally proved.The household adjusted around the new arrival with practiced ease, Mira taking to the role of devoted honorary aunt with obvious joy, Elena unable to visit the nursery without lingering considerably longer than she likely intended, and Kade proving himself, despite his own earlier uncertainty about fatherhood, remarka

Garrick's expanded search of the surrounding territory began within the hour, patrols fanning out across every road and trail leading away from the compound, questioning merchants and travelers alike for any sign of an elderly, grey-haired stranger matching Elara's innocent description.They found nothing. Not a single credible sighting, not a trace of passage through any of the usual checkpoints, nothing beyond the unsettling certainty that whoever had slipped past their defenses had done so with considerable skill, and had vanished just as completely once his purpose had been accomplished."He's had three years to study our security," Garrick reported that evening, exhaustion evident in his voice after hours of fruitless searching. "Three years to learn our patrol schedules, our guard rotations, every gap in our coverage that a patient, careful observer might eventually exploit. I don't think we're dealing with simple luck, Alpha. I think we're dealing with deliberate, long-term plan

The visits continued over the following months, settling into a careful, monthly rhythm that Aria found herself, despite her continued wariness, genuinely grateful for, Elara's bright, uncomplicated joy at each reunion gradually easing some of the lingering tension that had colored the arrangement's early weeks.Damion's health, Aria noted with each visit, continued its visible, gradual decline — his tremor worsening slightly, his breath occasionally catching with an effort that suggested some deeper illness he never directly named, though his spirit during each visit remained remarkably steady, as though whatever physical decline he faced had simply sharpened his determination to make proper use of whatever time remained.

The message arrived on a cold winter morning, delivered not through Damion's usual careful, untraceable methods, but by an ordinary rider wearing Frostbourne colors — a detail that struck Aria as significant even before she'd broken the letter's seal, understanding somehow, with the particular dread that precedes confirmed loss, exactly what news it likely carried.Lady Thorne, the letter began, written in a hand she didn't recognize. I write on behalf of a man who called himself simply "D," who has been residing these past months in a modest cottage within Frostbourne's southern territory, under Alpha Ronan's quiet, personal protection. I regret to inform you that he passed in the early hours of this morning, peacefully, in his sleep, after a decline that had been evident for some weeks. He asked, in his final lucid days, that I write to you directly, and that I include the enclosed letter, written in his own hand, which I have not read and cannot speak to