All Chapters of Rescuing His Enslaved Luna Queen: Chapter 281 - Chapter 290

Spencer's POVAs I stare down at Delilah, all I can feel is annoyance at her presence. I can tell she’s trying to elicit some sort of sympathetic reaction from me. Her lower lip is trembling like a leaf in the wind, and her electric eyes are positively drowning in not-quite-shed tears. She really does feel entitled to a response, I realize–Delilah actually thinks she has some sort of right to know about the things I have to deal with in this palace. Ivy has spent so long trying to tell me that I’m not the heartless monster everyone thinks I am, but whenever I look at Delilah, I wonder if everyone has been right all along. “There was a bit of a situation with the prisoners,” I tell Delilah dismissively, already starting to walk past her. “Nothing major, though, and it’s all been dealt with now.” If you could call housing the enemy comfortably in my palace as ‘dealing with it,’ I suppose. But what Alpha Leo and Gamma Everly have going on seems to be a special case. And a content Alp

Spencer's POV“How are you going to deal with him?” At my father’s pointed question, I breathe out a small sigh. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that–that he’d be content to trust me with the task of managing Alpha Leo without getting involved. But I suppose it was a naive hope. After all, considering the circumstances of the prison break, I don’t think my father has that much trust in me. “I’ve got everything under control,” I assure him. Perhaps the correct route would be to blend the lie with a bit of truth. “He’s under Gamma Everly’s supervision now…” “Yes, but what are you doing with him?” My father presses. I grit my teeth. I can’t lie and tell him that Alpha Leo is just locked up in the dungeon as usual–it would take one mind link to a prison guard to reveal the truth. “I’m taking care of it,” I say firmly. My father narrows his eyes at me. I can see the warning embers of anger sparking in his hawklike gaze. “Spencer,” he says slowly, his voice a thunderous warning rumble,

Spencer's POVI’m fuming as I make my way out of my father’s office. What could Colin possibly have to talk to my father about? All he’s done since he returned from boarding school has been pissing around and making my life a living hell. He has no obligation, no purpose, no sense of responsibility. He’s an arrogant waste of space who loves making things worse. And yet what my father said about my having gone soft, about having me replaced… No. He wouldn’t. And by Colin, of all people? Colin shoots me a smug smile as he closes the door behind him, barring me from the office. I grit my teeth, staring at the wood grain of the door angrily. That bastard. What am I going to do about this? It can’t stand, I need to find some sort of solution, some other way to get Colin out of the palace again so I don’t have to deal with him. I walk away from the office, feeling like I’m burning up with fury. It’s only once I’m headed to my bedroom that I realize just how famished I am. I haven’t

Spencer's POV“You bastard!” I stand up in a flash, kicking the chair aside as I walk towards Colin. In an instant, my hands are upon him, pressing him against the back of his sea. I’m standing up while he’s sitting down, which means I have the height advantage–an advantage I make good use of as I wrap my hands around his throat. I press my fingers into the center of his neck, that soft vulnerable spot that can steal air in a heartbeat, and use the full weight of my body to lean into him. I can feel his windpipe beneath my fingers, fragile and easy enough to crush, but that would be too quick of a death for him. I don’t want to end him quickly for what he’s done. I want to drag it out. I want to make him suffer. “You killed our father!” I roar at him, eyes blazing with fury as my voice fills the dining hall with my rage. “You killed him–” “Spencer!” Sylvia’s desperate voice cuts through the air. Suddenly, I feel small hands on my shoulders pulling me back. There’s no real force b

Spencer's POVI don’t know what sort of reaction I was expecting from my mother upon learning of her husband’s demise, but as I stare into her eyes, what I see there surprises me.She doesn’t look scared, or sad, or confused. She looks grim. As the news hits her, my mother blinks once, twice, three times before drawing in a deep breath. She sets her jaw and pulls her shoulders back, iron in her posture. Her face, etched with wrinkles and lines yet regal as it’s always been, is a mask of determination. She allows herself the space of mere moments before clasping her hands together and setting them on her chest. “What happened?” Wilson asks in surprise. His eyes are wide, and he pulls Sylvia even closer. “Oh, my love, I’m so sorry for your loss…” “Quiet, Wilson,” my mother says sharply. She presses her fingers to her temples, momentarily lost in thought. “Alright. Who knows?” Colin’s voice falls open. Clearly, he was expecting messy emotions. Distress. I was, too. He doesn’t seem