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CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Last Updated:
2023-12-27 23:50:34
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THE POSSESSIVE ALPHA KING AND HIS FATED QUEEN CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
The afternoon sun stretched over the valley, golden light slanting across the cottages and smoke trails curling from hearths. Ryker swung an axe down into a thick block of wood, splitting it clean. He gathered the pieces into his arms, the scent of pine and sap clinging to him as he carried them toward the gentle slope leading to Rae’s house. The rhythm of it—chopping, stacking, carrying—had begun to soothe him. A routine. A life that, though simple, tasted sweeter than any dream he had dared while in the Duke’s service. Rae sat where he always did in the afternoons, perched on his stool outside the small house with a skein of yarn looped around his bent fingers. The old man’s hands moved slow but steady, twisting and weaving, his eyes half-lidded in thought. When he saw Ryker crest the hill with the firewood, he set the yarn aside and smiled.“You’ll have me spoiled,” Rae said, voice rough with age. “Another day or two of this and I’ll forget how to fetch my own firewood.”R
THE POSSESSIVE ALPHA KING AND HIS FATED QUEEN CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TEN (≧▽≦)
The path narrowed as they climbed, pine branches brushing against Elara’s sleeves. The air grew crisper with every step, scented with resin and damp earth. Behind them, the village lay tucked in its valley cradle, smoke curling upward like threads of spun silver. Ahead, jagged ridges loomed, dark against the morning sky.Rae trudged steadily, his wool cloak flapping at his heels. He leaned on his walking stick, but his stride betrayed strength still coiled in his wiry frame. Ryker walked close behind, steadying Elara when roots snagged her skirts. She had insisted she could manage, but her slippers were ill-suited for the rocky ground. Every now and then, she stumbled, cheeks burning as Ryker’s calloused hand caught her elbow.“You’ll not last an hour up here in court shoes,” Rae remarked without turning. “We’ll see about that when we reach the cabin. A pair of boots will serve you better than all the silks in the empire.”Elara bit her lip, unused to such bluntness, but she nodded. “
THE POSSESSIVE ALPHA KING AND HIS FATED QUEEN CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINE ( ◜‿◝ )♡
The path sloped down into the valley where the village lay, roofs of thatch and timber clustered close, smoke curling lazily from chimneys. For Elara, the sight was unlike anything she had known. Gone were the towering stone walls, the echoing marble floors, the stifling trappings of nobility. Here was life simple and unadorned, where the rhythm of day and night seemed written not by decree but by the land itself.Ryker slowed his pace as they passed beneath a wooden arch, its beams carved with symbols worn smooth by rain and years. His horse’s hooves clicked against the cobbled path, and already voices rose in greeting.“Ryker!” cried one of the women from a doorway, her gray hair escaping its kerchief as she rushed forward. “Goddess above, it is you!”Others followed — stout, rosy-cheeked matrons with aprons dusted in flour or damp from laundry. They came like a tide, clucking and cooing, their hands reaching for Ryker’s arms, his shoulders, as though to prove he was no phantom but
THE POSSESSIVE ALPHA KING AND HIS FATED QUEEN CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤
The grand hall was too quiet for Lord Sawyer’s liking. The shadows of the high-vaulted ceiling stretched long across the marble, broken only by the flicker of torches mounted in wrought iron sconces. He sat upon the edge of his seat at the banquet table, goblet untouched, tapping a gloved finger upon the wood. The longer he waited, the more bile rose in his throat.Elara should have come by now.Patience had never been a virtue of his, and this house — this damned, echoing house — felt as though it mocked him with its silence. He had been promised a bride, pledged by Duke Cortez himself, and yet when he demanded her presence, the girl had not arrived.He motioned sharply to the steward at his side. “Summon her. I did not ride through half the Empire to be made to wait like some supplicant.”The steward hesitated only briefly. “My lord, she was… indisposed. Her chamber maid said she had not yet risen.”Sawyer’s jaw tightened. “Then wake her.”The steward bowed quickly and re
THE POSSESSIVE ALPHA KING AND HIS FATED QUEEN CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡
The torches in the Grand Duke’s manor hissed as the rain outside battered the stone walls. Thunder grumbled in the distance, rolling low like some restless beast, as servants hurried through the wide corridors to prepare for their lord’s return. At the far end of the hall, beneath the banners of the Empire, the great oak doors swung open with a groan. Grand Duke Cortez strode inside, his cloak soaked from three days’ ride, his presence commanding and cold. Elara stood at the balcony above, her hands clenched upon the balustrade. Her father had returned—yet not when she needed him. He had missed her return from Lord Sawyer’s keep, missed the silent tears she had shed when she crossed the manor’s threshold alone, and missed the ache in her chest that had grown heavier with every absence. As always, duty had consumed him, and she was left behind. “Summon Lady Elara to the grand hall,” Cortez’s voice echoed, deep and resonant, filling the vaulted space. “There is much to discuss.” A
THE POSSESSIVE ALPHA KING AND HIS FATED QUEEN CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SIX(〃ﾟ3ﾟ〃)
The sun hung low over the sprawling dukedom, its golden rays filtering through the ancient oaks and casting dappled patterns across the garden’s winding paths. Elara’s boots crunched against the gravel as she wove through rosebushes and lavender beds, her breath uneven, her side still tender from the wound that had kept her bedridden for weeks. The air was heavy with the scent of blooming flowers and damp earth, a perfume that once soothed her restless spirit. But today, it offered no solace. Her heart throbbed with a pain far sharper than the stitched gash beneath her linen tunic—a pain born of absence, of neglect, of being forever second to her father’s ambitions. She had pictured his stern face softening, perhaps even his arms opening to embrace her after weeks under Lord Sawyer’s suffocating care. Instead, the grand hall had been empty, save for the murmured apologies of servants and the distant echo of her father’s voice barking orders in his war chamber. Work. Always work. Map
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