Page 135 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“An excellent herbalist,” he muses. “Groundbreaking. Capable of curing supposedly incurable afflictions.” He picks up his wine glass again. “Her knowledge could indeed be a tremendous asset to the kingdom.”
A “harrumph” escapes him, but I catch the flicker of genuine interest in his expression. He doesn’t look displeased.
“Find out who she really is,” he commands. “If she is not what she appears to be, that changes everything. But until then...” His expression hardens. “Keep her close. The Council will make their move soon, and when they do, you’ll need to be ready.”
I nod and turn to leave, and as I reach the door, I make up my mind about something else. Aldric’s interest in Astra had been too intense, too personal. The way his eyes lingered on her during the trial, the eagerness in his voice when he suggested handing her over to the Council—it wasn’t just about upholding the law.
I’m going to investigate him. Whatever his true motives are, whatever he wants with my mate, I’ll uncover it. And I’ll protect Astra from him and anyone else who thinks they can use her for their own agenda.
The Council may be making their move soon, but so am I.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Astra
The darkness lifts slowly, like fog dissipating at dawn. I surface from sleep with the strange, disorienting sensation of being somewhere between dreaming and waking—caught in that liminal space where reality feels fragile and breakable.
My body feels foreign. Heavy. Like I’ve been sleeping for days, or maybe weeks. The bed beneath me is soft, real, nothing like the cold marble of that throne room where—
The memories crash over me all at once.
The whip. The pain tearing across my back. Lady Zari’s cold smile as she watched me bleed. The King’s voice echoing through that vast chamber, calling Lucian “son.”
My eyes snap open.
I’m staring at an ornate ceiling painted with golden stars against midnight blue. Silk curtains hang around the bed, and everything smells like sandalwood and something distinctly masculine. This isn’t the inn. This isn’t anywhere I recognize.
I turn my head, and there he is.
Lucian.
He’s lying beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. In sleep, he looks different—younger somehow, those sharp edges of control softened. His dark hair falls across his forehead, and his breathing is deep and even.
The mercenary who hunted for me. Who protected me. Who kissed me like I was the only thing keeping him anchored to reality.
The prince who lied to me for weeks.
I stare at him, and it’s like looking at a stranger wearing a familiar face. Every conversation we’ve had, every moment of tenderness, every kiss—all of it was built on lies. He’s not some rogue mercenary living on the fringes of society. He’s the crown prince. The future king.
And I’m nobody. Less than nobody. A pack reject who can’t even shift.
The betrayal sits in my chest like a lead weight, pressing down until I can hardly breathe. All this time, he knew exactly who he was. He knew what it would mean if anyone discovered us together. He knew, and he let me fall for the fantasy anyway.
I want to be angry. I should be furious. I should wake him up and scream at him, demand answers, make him explain why he thought it was acceptable to lie to me about something so fundamental.
But underneath the betrayal, underneath the hurt and confusion, there’s something else. Something that makes my chest tight for a different reason.
He came for me.
When I was bleeding on the throne room floor, when that woman was spinning her lies about dark magic and seduction, when the King himself was ready to let me die, Lucian burst through those doors like an avenging angel. The look on his face when he saw me hurt—I’ve never seen anything like it. Pure,devastating fury. Like someone had torn out his heart and set it on fire.
“I will burn this entire kingdom to ash before I let anyone harm her again.”
That’s what he said. Not to me, but about me. To his own father. The King!
My hand curls into a fist, and before I can stop myself, before rational thought can intervene, I draw back and punch Lucian hard in the face.
He wakes instantly, his body coiling like a spring. One second, he’s peaceful and sleeping, the next, he’s moving with lethal grace, rolling over me and pinning my hands above my head before I can blink.
