All Chapters of The Alpha King Craves My Milk: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

CHAPTER 51: The Legacy of FireAtlas’s POVI smelled the scent of wet ash and old paper before I even reached the threshold of the lower archive room. My sentry had alerted me that two women had bypassed the main corridor warding and I had sprinted down the subterranean stairs expecting a blade at Ilyana’s throat.Instead, I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stopped dead.My mother stood three feet from the central table. Ilyana remained beside her, one hand resting on the wooden edge of the open sign-in log, while Natasha hovered near the shadow of the back shelves with her hand still gripping the hilt of her dagger. Nobody was bleeding. Nobody was screaming. The absolute stillness in the room settled over my skin like an icy sheet, unsettling me far more than an open brawl ever could.“Atlas,” my mother said softly, turning her head as her dark velvet dress swept against the floorboards.“What is going to happen here?” I asked, my voice dropping into a low rumble that vibrated

CHAPTER 53: Shadows of the PastAtlas's POVI pushed the bedroom door open, then slammed it shut behind me.Ilyana stood by the window overlooking the courtyard. She turned as I crossed the room in three long strides. My pulse raced against my ribs, driven by a raw, cold panic I could not suppress.I grabbed her shoulders, pulling her flush against my chest. I buried my face in the crook of her neck.“You went to the dungeon alone,” I said.My voice dropped an octave as I ran my hands down her arms, checking for injuries.“I had to know,” Ilyana replied.She placed her hands flat against my shirt, pushing back just enough to look at my face.“Jasmine's mark reacted to that ledger page. Your mother was clearly hiding something vital.”“I told you to stay in the upper wing,” I snapped.I loosened my grip but refused to let her step away. My hands trembled against her skin.“Do you have any idea what that old man is capable of?”“He is an old man locked in a metal cage,” she argued. Her

CHAPTER 55: The Broken LockIlyana's POVI slipped the silver coin into my coat pocket and left the map room without telling Atlas my destination. I needed to handle this outside the palace walls, partly because this felt like an old family wound rather than a royal crisis, partly because I did not trust how his mother's recent confessions might skew his judgment regarding my father. I walked straight to the estate stables, borrowed a simple riding horse and rode out toward the outer town where my family lived.The ride gave me time to organize my thoughts, but the cold metal resting against my ribs felt like a lump of ice refusing to melt. I reached my father's house and dismounted, tying the reins to the front fence before walking up the stone steps. I pushed the front door open and stepped into the quiet foyer.The house was surprisingly silent, lacking the usual sharp echoes of Lila complaining about the servants or Sara demanding new dresses. I walked into the parlor and found

CHAPTER 57: The Mother's LetterIlyana's POVKieran gasped and clutched his chest, his knees buckling beneath him as his eyes rolled back. I did not freeze. I did not scream for help. Atlas had spent the last three weeks drilling combat reflexes into my muscles, so my body reacted before my mind processed the danger.I dropped to the floor, hooked my arms under my father's shoulders, absorbed his fall, then guided his collapsing frame safely onto the rug.“Martha!” I shouted, pressing two fingers against the pulse point on his neck. His heartbeat fluttered against my skin, erratic and alarmingly weak. “Get in here right now!”The parlor maid rushed into the study, then stopped dead. A silver tray of teacups slipped from her hands, crashing onto the floorboards.“Master Kieran!” she shrieked, covering her mouth with both trembling hands. “The madness took him!”“Stop panicking and listen to me,” I ordered, tilting my father's head back to clear his airway. I kept my voice level and aut

CHAPTER 59: Guardians and SaboteursIlyana’s POVThe healers had finally cleared out of the room, leaving behind the sharp scent of crushed herbs and damp linen. My father lay still beneath the heavy blankets, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic, slow cadence. A single candle flickered on the bedside table, casting long shadows across his pale face. I pulled a wooden chair up to the mattress, sat down and pulled my mother’s folded letter from my coat pocket.“You look ridiculous lying there like that,” I whispered to my unconscious father, smoothing the crease of the parchment with my thumb. “You spent twenty years pretending you were just a helpless coward and now look at you. Poisoned by your own wine while holding a secret that could tear the kingdom apart.”Kieran did not move, but the steady sound of his breathing felt like a fragile promise in the quiet room.“I am going to read this to you,” I continued, unfolding the dry page and leaning closer to the candlelight. “Bec