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Chapter Fifteen ▏The Truth
I'm paralyzed, and for the first time in a long time, it's not out of fear.
The world disappeared. All the trees in our surroundings, once blurred and hazy, are now melting right into each other like a soaked fresh painting. All I can see is his face, particularly his eyes. The specks of dark gray surrounding his pupils, the curve of his thick lashes, the unreadable emotion in them, and the sense of familiarity that it’s igniting from me.
I feel hot and cold at the same time, blushing and shivering as his hands slowly trace the upward curve of my spine. Parting my lips for him is like a release and a buildup, an attack and a surrender, bliss and torture. Polar opposites, swirling inside me to get locked into this eternal dance that’s as old as time itself.
All of this—the crash and burn of the opposites—spiral down into one single second, a fleeting moment when I stand on the tips of my toes and reach his lips with mine.
But Alistair pulls away at the
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Saved by the Alpha Chapter Eighteen ▏The Death
A cold hand seems to be gripping my throat. Tears begin to leak out from the corners of my eyes. Seeing the ruins of the carriage, the very same one that I was in on the way out of the Palace, brings back so many memories of that day. Crossing the walls. Seeing the poverty stricken people. Rebels attacking our carriage. Uncle Osman telling me to save myself. . . . I stare at the blood, the way it’s pooled and congealed on the dry leaves. The possibility of it being Uncle Osman’s blood is high, but it’s not something I want to believe. Not ever. Not while I’m still alive. Perhaps I can still find a way to search for him, to save him from those rebels. Suddenly numb, I get down from the horse and walk closer to the remains of the carriage, running down a finger on the velvet lining of the seat.
Saved by the Alpha Chapter Nineteen ▏The Mercenary
“What?” I stammer, looking behind me and turning to Alistair. “What did he say?” “The princess of Acantha just died,” he tells me, leaning towards my ear to speak more clearly. “This man said she died in her sleep. I think she was supposed to be coronated before fall? I don’t really know. But that’s one less tyrant for us.” His words remain in my ears and in my head just as he pulls away, and they’re sticking to every corner in my head like settling dust. The procession here in the town hall is for me. The dead princess. But why did they say I died in my sleep? I would get it if they mentioned the fact that I was sent on The Hunt and got attacked along the way. But why would they lie and say something completely different? “Huh,” the old woman says. “No name?” “No name,” Alistair confirms before her friend can answer. “They don’t disclose the names until coronation, remember? We only get news about Heirs being born, and after t
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Saved by the Alpha Chapter Twenty-Three ▏The Inspection
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