THE ALPHA'S FATED WITCH

CHAPTER 3: Shadows Of The Throne

Earlene

My knees were still shaking by the time I reached the servant corridors. The stone walls back here were damp, smelling of old dust and trapped moisture.

I pressed my back against the cold masonry, closing my eyes and trying to force my lungs to take in normal, steady breaths.

The encounter in the courtyard played on a continuous, terrifying loop in my mind. I remembered the exact moment he looked at me.

His eyes were completely hollow. He did not look like a king who came to negotiate a treaty. He did not look like a man who came to fix a problem.

Looking into that dark, empty stare, I realized the absolute truth. He came with ruin. He did not want me to just think he was a monster. He made sure I knew it as a pure, undeniable fact.

I should have gone straight back to my small room. I should have locked my door. I should have stayed hidden under my blankets like a frightened child. But my mind was moving too fast.

Curiosity, paired with a desperate need to know my fate, pushed my feet forward. If my father failed this negotiation, the feral beasts would tear our kingdom apart. I needed to know exactly how much time I had left to run.

I navigated the narrow passageways without needing a light. I knew these walls better than anyone else in the palace.

While my blonde half sisters danced in the grand halls and attended lavish dinners, I grew up memorizing the cracks, the drafts, and the shadows.

I finally reached the wooden alcove that overlooked the grand throne room. It was a cramped, dusty space behind a decorative slatted vent near the high ceiling.

I knelt quietly on the floorboards. I pulled my thin dress tight around my legs and peered down through the narrow wooden gaps.

The throne room was massive. It was decorated with expensive gold banners and tall marble pillars. But today, the grand hall felt like a very small cage.

My father sat on his throne. He looked ten years older than he did this morning. His crown looked too heavy for his head and his knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests.

My brother, Eliott, hunched a few steps below the throne. Eliott was the heir, but he held a thick leather bound book instead of a sword. He looked incredibly pale. His sharp, intelligent eyes darted nervously around the room, calculating a battle he knew we could not win.

Then, there was him.

He stood in the dead center of the room. He brought no guards inside with him, except for the tall, scary man who had walked beside him in the courtyard.

He did not need an army to occupy a room. The air in the grand hall was already thick and heavy with his presence. The palace guards stationed along the walls were sweating, their hands trembling on their iron spears.

"We are honored to welcome the Alpha of the North," my father started. His voice echoed, but it lacked its usual boom. It sounded painfully thin.

The alpha did not bow. He did not even nod his head. He just stared up at my father with a chilling apathy.

"Thorne”, he corrected. “You are out of time," he said. His voice was low, smooth, and dangerously calm. It carried easily to the high ceiling. "Your warding stone is crumbling to dust. Your borders are breached. Speak plainly, or I will leave you to the beasts."

My father swallowed hard. I could clearly see the panic rising in his chest.

"I have wealth," the King rushed out, leaning forward on his throne. "I can offer you mountains of gold. I can give you the finest jewels in the southern territories. I will grant you unrestricted access to our eastern trade routes. I need your help."

Thorne slowly tilted his head. He looked completely bored. "I have more gold than I can spend in ten lifetimes. Your trade routes are covered in mud and weakness. Try again."

My father gripped the throne tighter. "Land. I will carve out a third of my sovereign territory and gift it to your pack. Fertile soil. Excellent hunting grounds."

The tall man standing next to Thorne let out a short, mocking laugh.

Thorne did not smile. "Your land is dying. The soil is rotting because your bloodline is too weak to sustain the magic. If I want your land, I will just wait a month and walk over your corpses to take it."

My father was totally cornered. Eliott closed his book, his jaw tight with grim realization. They had absolutely nothing of value to offer a monster who already owned the world.

"I have one last offer," my father said, his voice dropping to a desperate, shaky whisper. "An alliance of blood."

He signaled with a trembling hand to the guards at the side of the hall. The heavy oak doors swung open. My three legitimate half sisters walked into the throne room.

They looked flawless. They wore stunning gowns of crimson and gold, their blonde hair styled in intricate braids with precious stones.

But I could see the sheer terror in their eyes. They moved stiffly, forcing themselves to stand in a neat line before the lethal Alpha.

"My daughters," the King announced, attempting to sound proud. "Beautiful, pure, and born of a strong Luna lineage. Choose one to be your bride. Bind our packs together, and use your strength to anchor our shield."

Behind the wooden slats, I let out a slow, silent breath. A twisted, deeply selfish sense of relief washed over my chest.

I was safe. I was the forgotten, illegitimate child. No one was ever going to offer me to the monster. I was invisible, safely hidden away in the dusty walls where I belonged. I pitied my sisters, but I was just glad it was not me standing down there.

Thorne looked at the three princesses. He did not step closer. He did not even inspect them. His dark eyes simply swept over their trembling figures with absolute apathy.

"No," Thorne said softly.

The entire room froze. The King turned paler than a ghost. "But... they are royal daughters."

"They are weak," Thorne replied, his voice dropping an octave.

Then, the most terrifying thing happened.

Thorne stopped looking at the King. He stopped looking at the princesses. He slowly turned his head to the side and tilted his chin up, his piercing dark eyes locking directly onto the high wall.

He looked straight at the wooden vent.

My heart completely stopped as my breath hitched in my throat.

He could not see me. It was impossible. The alcove was entirely wrapped in dark shadows, and the slats were much too narrow.

But his eyes were pinned exactly on the spot where I knelt. The heavy, dark pressure in the room suddenly spiked, wrapping around me right through the thick walls.

He could smell me.

"I don't want them," Thorne responded, his voice cutting through the silent hall like a blade. "Bring me the one hiding behind the walls."

I realized with a sick twist in my stomach that my days of being invisible were permanently over.