Todos los capítulos de THE ALPHA'S REVENGE BRIDE : Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 6

(The King's Demand)The Royal Council Chamber smelled of old wood and older blood."Has House Clifton forgotten who wears the Crown?"My voice was quiet, but I let it cut through the room like a blade drawn slow enough for everyone to hear the metal sing.The Royal Chancellor cleared his throat and stepped forward, a scroll trembling faintly in his grip. "Your Majesty, House Clifton has again refused to relinquish the disputed borders of Blackstone Fortress. They claim ancestral right supersedes the Crown's decree."A general near the front slammed a fist against the table. "Then take it by force. Clifton has grown too comfortable believing his name protects him.""His army is not small," another countered, leaning forward with brows drawn together. "If we march on Blackstone, we risk dragging three border packs into a war none of them asked for.""Cowardice," the first general spat."Strategy," the second shot back, jaw tight.Voices rose. Chairs scraped. A minister threw up his hand

I didn't mean to say it. The words left me before I'd decided to speak them, quiet, but they landed in the chaos like a stone dropped into still water, and the ripples silenced everyone.Every face turned toward me.My father answered before the messenger could."You don't."Two words. No warmth in them, no explanation, nothing but the flat certainty of a man stating a fact of weather. I had heard my father deny me things before, small things, a dress I'd wanted, a suitor I'd once dared to mention. I had never heard him deny me my own life in quite so few syllables.Something in my chest went cold and small.The messenger, Damon, I would later learn, watched the exchange without expression, and when no one spoke further, he inclined his head, set the second scroll containing the formal terms upon the table, and took his leave with the unhurried calm of a man who had delivered far worse news to far more dangerous rooms than this one.The moment the doors closed behind him, my father ex

I had imagined this moment more times than I cared to admit.In most versions, I imagined a woman built in her father's image, sharp-eyed and calculating, already searching the throne room for weaknesses before she'd finished her first bow. I had prepared for that woman. I had rehearsed, in the quiet hours before dawn, exactly how little of myself I intended to give her.The woman walking toward me down the long hall was not searching for anything.She walked the way someone walks into cold water, steady because stopping would be worse than continuing, her spine straight in a way that looked deliberate rather than natural. The royal cloak sat unfamiliar on her shoulders, the silver too new against skin that had clearly spent more time in sunlight than any noblewoman I'd met at court. Her hands were folded in front of her, and even from this distance I could see how tightly.She did not look at the throne the way most did, with calculation, gauging distance and posture and exactly how