บททั้งหมดของ The Alpha’s Forbidden Omega: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Kieran’s POV The public gallery outside the eastern council rooms is already half full when I arrive. Word travels faster than footsteps in a gathering this size. Seraphine stands near the tall windows with two of her father’s Betas at a respectful distance. She has dressed with deliberate simplicity, as if she has come only to speak and not to perform. The performance is in the simplicity itself. The bond-pull stretches thin the moment I leave the guest wing—a low, insistent pressure that grows sharper with every corridor I put between myself and the locked door. I do not let it change my pace. Wren stays three steps behind me, silent. Seraphine turns as I approach. Her expression is composed, but the composure is thinner than it was in the inquiry chamber. The public injury is still fresh, and she has not had time to seal it completely. “Alpha Voss,” she says, voice clear enough to carry to the nearest listeners. “Thank you for agreeing to speak. I had hoped for privacy, but I u

Kieran’s POV Full dark comes slower than it should. I leave the room only after the night watch is in place and only after Juni has looked at the locked door and nodded once. The bond-pull stretches the moment the latch closes behind me—sharper than daylight, still carrying the residual heat of the breach and something denser underneath it. I feel her on the other side of it the same way I felt the spike when Lien knocked: present, awake, no longer only enduring. The stretch is no longer just distance. It is reluctance. Wren is waiting at the end of the corridor, already stripped of anything that would catch light. “Positions?” “Two on the service gates. One in the lower stairwell that feeds this wing. One covering the supply corridor he used yesterday. I pulled the junior steward he questioned this afternoon and put him on inventory in the far kitchens for the night. If Lien wants information on the closed rooms, he will have to come looking for it himself.” “And Lien?” “In th

Kieran’s POV The second knock is still echoing when I put myself between Juni and the wood. Adrenaline is already running hot under the bond—protective, absolute, and tangled with the unfinished heat of the moment that had almost closed the distance between us only a breath earlier. I can feel her at my back: still, ready, the same woman who stepped closer this morning and stopped only because both of us chose to stop. The line is still there. It has never felt more temporary. I open the door. Lien stands in the corridor at a polite distance, hands visible, expression arranged into careful neutrality. He does not flinch when he sees me. That alone is information. A guilty man would have found a reason not to be here. A careful one has already decided how this conversation should look—and how close he can stand while he delivers it. “Alpha Voss.” His voice is smooth. “I apologize for the hour. I was told the closed rooms might require fresh water before the morning meal service.

Kieran’s POV “They found Tobin. He’s on the east bank. And he’s not alone. Two men in plain coats are with him—and one of them is wearing a ring stamped with a crane in flight.” The words hit the room like a second knock. The bond surges—protective, absolute, still tangled with the unfinished heat of the line neither of us has crossed. Juni is already on her feet. I feel the decision forming in her before she speaks. “I’m coming.” Not a question. Wren looks at me. I look at her. Taking her out of this room puts her in open air where Crane’s people are already standing. Leaving her behind puts her on the wrong side of a door Lien has already tested while the only men who can watch it are with me at the river. “You asked not to be left alone behind this door,” I say. “You did not ask to walk into a meeting that already has Crane’s crest on a man’s hand.” “I asked for the next solid piece the moment you had it.” Her voice is steady. The pulse at her throat is not. “This is the ne

Kieran’s POV “Maer is gone. She left the kitchens right after the noon shift and never returned to her quarters. Lien is already asking after her. And Alder’s early review request has been accepted for hearing at first light tomorrow. The three days just became one.” The words strip the remaining margin off the day. The bond surges hard—protective, absolute, still tangled with the unfinished heat of the space neither of us has closed. Juni is behind me. I feel her absorb the compression of the clock the same way I do: without flinching, without wasting breath on what can no longer be changed. “Where was Maer last seen?” “Service passage between the lower kitchens and the east-court laundry. Carrying a small satchel she didn’t have this morning. No one stopped her.” Wren’s jaw is tight. “Lien asked after her less than twenty minutes past the time she should have reported back. He is not performing ordinary concern. He is checking whether the piece has been removed.” “And the Coun