Contract With The Alpha King by Brey Mitchylle

Chapter 107

Inside the tent, Carissa paced back and forth, her hands trembling as she gestured toward Elijah. "Your Highness, please, listen to reason Charging after the rogues like this-it's reckless! We don't even know for certain if Lady Fiona is involved or where she is. The rogue we found was likely poisoned before entering our territory. It could be anything-a ploy, a mistake. This is not the answer!"

Elijah sat calmly at the center table, his focus entirely on the blade he was meticulously cleaning. The blood that had stained it earlier was now gone, replaced by a mirror-like shine as he moved the cloth over its surface. He didn't so much as glance at Carissa. Her voice rose as she stepped closer to him. "Do you even hear me? This is madnesst Lady Fiona would never-"

ed? He taken! Or perhaps leave us to pick up the pieces while

"She would never what?" Elijah cut in without looking up, his voice cold. "Get

Get involved! the rogues run unchecked?".

Carisa fallered "I didn't say that," she stammered. "Thit-

"She'll be found" Elrah said flatly, returning his attention to his sword. "And this ends tonight"

Rio stepped forward, placing a hand on Carissa's shoulder. "Elijah, we're not questioning your decision to act, but we should proceed carefully. That rogue we found is still alive, clinging to life. Perhaps we need to interrogate him before acting. This could be the intention of the Rogue King himself. If this is a trap-

"Then we'll spring it," Elijah interrupted, sliding the blade into its sheath with a decisive motion. "I don't care for speculation Action is what will bring results.

Before either envoy could respond. Regor entered the tent, his expression resolute. He nodded once. "We're ready."

Carissa rushed to Regor, grabbing his arm. "Regor, please, you've fought by his side for years. Talk sense into him! This is not the way to End Lady Fiona. It's reckless, and it puts everyone at risk."

Regor's gaze flicked to Elijah, who was already standing. A faint shake of Regor's head was all the response he gave Carissa. He knew Elijah too well-once his mind was set, there was no turning him back. It was the same stubborn determination that had led him to marry Fiona, despite her previous marriage and even his own mother's disapproval. None of them could dissuade him then.

Who could possibly stand in the way of a man so fiercely driven to find the woman he loved!

together. "Your Highness, I beg you" she said, tears streaming down her face. This is not the way. You are a leader, not a weapon. Think of the villagers, your people. If you fill into

his hand resting on the tent's flap. His eyes remained forward, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word. he stepped outside, the heavy fabric of the tent swinging

night hit him first, followed by the murmur of voices. As his eyes adjusted, he saw them-the villagers. Dozens of them stood gathered outside the tent, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. Their eyes held a

Before he could speak. Aken stepped out from the crowd, his frame hunched slightly as he clutched a staff for support. He was one of the villagers who were injured during the first

echoed his words, their voices rising in unison. "Long live His Highness the Prince! Long live the

their voices growing louder with every repetition. Some clapped, others bowed their heads, and many clasped their hands together

protecting us. For fighting for us. We know you will find Lady Fion.

You're our only hope! A woman in the crowd called out, her

to us,

mixing with words of gratitude and encouragement. Some held lanterns higher, their lights swaying as they waved them in

free hand, motioning for silence.

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Chapter 107

will find her,"

senses heightened and their weapons ready. Each member of

of nocturnal creatures. Elijah's eyes. scanned the darkness ahead, his every step purposeful. He was

there. Elijah slowed, his sharp gaze taking in every detail. He knelt briefly, his fingers brushing against the dirt. His nose twitched as he caught a faint, familiar scent. His jaw tightened

visible against the underbrush. It was torn and dirtied, but unmistakable. Fiona's scent clung to it like

begging to be unleashed. His breaths grew heavier, the urge to transform

he said, his voice carrying authority. He turned to face

the werewolves, a younger scout, raised his hand slightly, his head tilting as he sniffed

the scout, his movements swift as he strode in that direction. The scent hit him

but sharp, metallic, and

Fiona's blood.