All Chapters of The Alpha King’s Secret Heir: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Evander's Point of ViewFour days on the road. Two in Moon Crest, haggling with a border Alpha who wouldn't let my men past the gate without a council order and a written apology. One standing in a dead man's flat, among his shoes and his tea tins and his unpaid bills, staring at the stain on the floorboards. One driving home through the dark with Troy asleep in the passenger seat and the dashboard clock ticking over.The attacks come in a rhythm, if you hold them at the right distance. A raid on the eastern patrol line, twelve weeks ago. A poisoned well in the lower village. The carnival. A rogue carried into my hospital in the arms of my men. And now Tomas, with his head separated from his neck by a blade so clean that the coroner had called it surgical.Somebody is moving pieces across my board, and I'm a move behind. I can feel it in my back teeth. Every time I think I've cornered a lead, the lead's dead.‘Think.’ I press my fingers to my eyelids. ‘What does Tomas know that someon

Amma’s Point of ViewI find myself in front of the door at the end of the east wing with my hand flat against the wood, and my forehead pressed to it, breathing like I've run a mile.My lip still stings. My mouth is swollen. My sweater is on.I fix it in the dark of the landing. I wipe my face on my sleeve, repeatedly. I look at my reflection in the window glass, a pale smear with a bruise on one cheek and wild hair, and I tell it, very softly, to put on a face.Then I open the door and smile."Hi, Bugs."Isa is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed in pajamas with little Mr. Rupert on them, Mr. Rupert in her lap, a picture book open on her knees. Jeremy is in the armchair with his boots on the ottoman, reading something on his phone, and he looks up the moment I walk in. His eyes drop to my face. They stay there."I'm going to get some air," he says, rising. "Back in an hour.""You don't have to...""I know." He touches my shoulder lightly as he passes. "Back in an hour."The

Amma's Point of ViewI wake with my hand reaching out. Before I'm fully conscious, before I open my eyes, my palm searches the gap between the cot and the bed for a small, warm body, a curl of hair, the rise and fall of a back.My fingers find sheets that are ice cold.I'm upright before I can think twice; the covers fall around my waist. The room is gray with early light, the curtains stirring, and the bed beside me is empty. The blanket is thrown back. The pillow still holds the dent of her head."Isa?"Nothing, my baby is not in the room. I fuckin overslept, and my baby is gone."Isa!"My voice cracks. I'm on my feet, my heart going like a fist against a door as I check everywhere; the bathroom is dark and empty. The wardrobe, the window seat, the space under the bed. I check all of them in the time it takes to breathe twice. My hands have started to shake. ‘Someone took her. Someone came in the night while I slept, and I was so tired, so tired, and I didn't wake...’My biggest fe

Evander's Point of ViewSafety. I want Isadora to be safe, and her too.But the moment it leaves my mouth, something changes in her face. She looks at me as though I've started speaking in another language, and slowly, one by one, I see the walls I'd watched crumble in the library, the ones I'd thought I'd finally gotten a glimpse behind, begin to rise again. Brick by brick.“Are we safe?”Her voice is very quiet. She's standing an arm's length from me with her hands tucked under her elbows, in an old gray sleep shirt that falls to her thighs, her bare feet pale on the marble floor.“Amma.”“Why are you trying to ensure her safety? Is there something I should know?” Her eyes are narrowed. “Is there a reason she wouldn't be?”I make my voice light. “It's only precaution.”“Precaution.”“The pack's grown restless since the carnival. People talk. A formal introduction settles things. It puts her under the council's protection by law, not just by my word. It's what any Alpha would do.”“A

Amma's Point of ViewI follow him everywhere he goes because there’s no way I'm letting him keep me out of what’s happening.Down the east corridor and through the kitchen, where the cooks stand in rows with their hands at their sides and their faces blank.Across the courtyard, in the rain, past men with lanterns tearing through the hedges. Down the cellar steps, and up again, and along the servants' passage behind the pantry. He doesn't tell me to stay back. He doesn't tell me anything. He just walks, fast and silent, issuing orders in a voice like a knife being drawn, and I keep three paces behind with my arms wrapped around myself and my bare feet leaving wet prints on the stone.Somebody gives me a pair of boots. I put them on without looking at who.The reports keep coming, even as we stand in the living room.“East gate sealed, Alpha. No breach.”“West wall clear.”“Orchard and stables clear. The lake's been dragged along the shore. Nothing.”“Patrol line holds. No one crossed