All Chapters of The Alpha King’s Secret Heir: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Amma's Point of ViewI hate that it's Noah.I hate it with a grinding intensity that sits behind my teeth as he steers me down the corridor by the elbow and into the first empty office he finds. Evander's beta. Evander's best friend, the only person on this earth the Alpha King trusts with his life. Of every person in this building who could have caught me with gold in my eyes, the universe picked the one with a direct line to my husband.He shuts the door, and the sound seems to echo."Which ones?" He asks, already moving towards the glass cabinet with so many bottles of medicine."Second shelf. The left side." My voice comes out thin. "The white and green bottle."He finds the bottle, shakes out two pills, and fills a paper cup at the water cooler without looking at me. When he places them in my palm, his fingers don't touch mine. I swallow both, drink the water, and set the cup on the desk, and then there's nothing to do but wait for the metal taste to flood my tongue.The pressu

Evander's Point of ViewI watch it reach her as everything sinks in. First the confusion, a small crease between her brows as her eyes move from the tablet to my face. Then the math of what I did. I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. Her mouth parts. The color drains from her cheeks, degree by degree, until she's the shade of the paper in Meredith's folder.She looks at me like I've made the biggest mistake of my life, and what's worse, she's slow about it. She isn't screaming. Disappointment settles on her face as she looks at me; it hurts, but I was doing the right thing.Yes. I betrayed her. I took her palm and turned it against her. But she took my child; she needed to know the consequences of doing something like that.For five years I buried an empty grave. Five years I stood in front of a headstone for a girl who was alive."How could you?" Her voice is hardly there. "How could you do this?""You left me no fucking choice." I keep it low and even. "You think I was

Amma's Point of ViewThey wheel Isa through the pack house gates on a stretcher at dusk.I walk beside her with her hand wrapped in mine, her small fingers warm and a little sticky. The wheels crunch over the gravel drive. I know that sound. I know the way the iron gates swing, and the way the front lawn slopes, and the oak at the corner with the lowest branch, where I used to sit on summer evenings with a book while I waited for a husband who was always late.I haven't stood in this driveway in five years. I'd forgotten how big it is.I remember every inch of this place, and every inch of how it taught me to shrink. The color-coded schedules I kept pinned in the kitchen. Memorizing three hundred names so I could greet every member by their names. The elders who smiled over their tea and called me child. Cooking for the council at midnight because someone had muttered that a real Luna would, and I would prove I was one. I would be perfect. I smiled until my cheeks ached. I'd worn the

Amma's Point of ViewI wake before the sun, with my neck stiff from the bed and a dull ache behind my eyes. Isa is still asleep, curled around Mr. Rupert, one foot kicked out from the blanket. I tuck it back in and stand over her for a minute, listening to her breath.Last night is still on my skin. I scrub it off in the shower, hot water first, then cold, and pull on jeans and a gray sweater. I braid my hair tight enough to hurt.Isa will wake up hungry. Meredith wants her on light food for a few days. Porridge is what she can keep down. And in this house, a request for porridge means a request to the kitchen, and a request to the kitchen, for me, means going through Evander. I don't have the access or the standing. The phone he gave me opens doors in the hospital.So, I go to find him.His bedroom is down the east corridor, two doors from the suite I refused. My feet remember every board that creaks. I round the last corner, and a man steps out of the shadows by the window and block

Evander's Point of ViewI never thought I'd have to explain to my pack members that she is still my luna.I walk her down the corridor with her hand in mine, her pulse beating against my thumb, and the words keep circling in my head. Untouchable. Every wolf in this pack should have known it without being told. Amma is my mate. She carries my name. She bore my heir. A pack that needs reminding of that has forgotten what it is. And somewhere between the kitchen and the dining hall I realized that I'd let them forget, because for five years I told myself she was dead.I watched Mary's face when she called my daughter a bastard. For one second my wolf went all the way to the surface. I felt his teeth in my own mouth. I would have torn the old woman's throat out in front of her cooks and not lost a minute of sleep over it.‘They will learn,’ he says.‘They'd better.’I'm still turning it over when she wrenches her hand out of mine."Let go of me."I let go. She stumbles a step, catches her