All Chapters of Scar; The Ugly Bride of The Alpha King: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Eve’s POVThe room was too big, too cold, too suffocating. The scent of leather and cedar curled around me like an invisible shackle, invading my senses no matter how much I tried to escape it. His scent. It clung to the sheets, to the air, to my skin. I turned onto my side, then the other, restlessly tossing in the silk-soft bed that felt too foreign, too unnatural beneath me.My mind refused to be still. His words echoed, whispering through the silence like a cruel lullaby.‘Aren’t you hideous? Didn’t you crawl from the gutters, surviving on scraps like a rat in my city?’A thousand voices had called me ugly before, their sneers and jeers rolling off me like water. But when he said it? It tore something open inside me, something raw and festering. Why? Why did it hurt? Why did I care what he thought of me?I gritted my teeth and rolled onto my back, staring at the high ceiling. I shouldn’t be thinking about him. I shouldn’t be letting his words get under my skin.The dress I was

The stone hall echoed with each step as the maids led me through the towering corridors. Their whispers were hushed, their gazes cautious, but I paid them no mind. My thoughts swirled like a tempest, thick with last night’s storm—the cold seeping into my bones, the wind clawing at my skin. My body was still adjusting to the warmth inside. I clenched my fists, shaking off the damp chill that still lingered. The grand doors of the courtroom loomed ahead, two guards stepping aside as they pulled them open. A sea of faces turned toward me. The nobles, the warriors, the council. And in the center, stood two familiar figures—Elizabeth and Hellen. I stopped short. The very same women who had sneered at me, mocked me, disrespected me… and yet they were here, bound by silence, awaiting judgment. I should have expected this. Yet, I was not prepared for the sheer weight of it. My lips parted to speak, to remind them I would not—would never—apologize, but then… I felt it. A presence.

Eve’s POV I paced outside John’s door, nerves frayed, patience thin. Damn him. So what if he’s her mate? That didn’t mean he could shut me out. I just needed to see her. Just once. Left with no other option, I pressed my eye against the small crack in the wooden door. Nothing. I adjusted, trying harder— Damn it! I could see nothing. Considering how feral and angry Beta John looked, what if… what if he hurt her? No. I needed to think of something else. My gaze flicked to the window outside, directly above me. The Beta’s room was on the second floor. Think, think, think. That’s when I saw it—the pipe running up the stone wall. Perfect! I sneaked out of the castle , evading through the guards and without another thought, I grabbed onto the pipe and hauled myself up, my muscles burned as I pushed my body higher. The rough metal dug into my palms, but I ignored it, determination pushing me forward. One last pull, and I reached the window’s edge. My breath came in short burst

Eve’s POVForeign.That’s how I felt in my own body.This sensation. This unbearable heat pooling in my stomach, the twisting knots of anticipation and dread. No one had ever made me feel like this before. No one had ever made me this aware of myself—of my body—like a caged animal, both yearning and terrified of release.I thrashed, instinct and fear warring inside me, but his hands were unyielding. Massive palms gripped my thighs and wrenched them apart, pinning me open like I was his possession to inspect. To claim.Hot breath ghosted over my core, and panic struck like a whip, slicing through the haze of my confusion.“No, wait—!”The apple he’d stuffed between my lips muffled my plea, juices spilling onto my tongue, trickling down my chin like some perverse offering.I spat it out, breath heaving, desperation clawing at my throat. “Stop!”His head snapped up, irritation flashing in those ruthless, steel-colored eyes. “What now, little mouse?”Time. I needed time. But how did I ask

I swallow thickly, my throat tightening as I watch him pull his plate toward me. A silent command. An unyielding demand. He expects me to eat.I sigh, knowing it’s useless to argue with this man.“Fine. Leave me at least.”His grip doesn’t loosen.“You lost that privilege when I asked you the first time like a gentleman,” he murmurs, voice smooth but edged with warning. “This is exactly where you eat now.”My fists clench beneath the table.This controlling brute.I reach for my fork, determined to reclaim even the smallest sliver of control, but before I can grasp it, he snatches it from my fingers and hurls it aside. It clatters against the floor with a sharp metallic ring.“What the hell—”Before I can finish, he presses his own fork into my fingers—the same fork he ate with.“You eat with this.”What twisted game is he playing now? Why does it have to be his fork? His presence coils around me like smoke, suffocating and inescapable. I bite back my protests, unwilling to give him t