Contract With The Alpha King novel Chapter 107

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! 

Seeing this, Carista turned back to Elijah, desperation etched into her features. She fell to her knees, clasping her hands 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 a trap, who will protect them? Who will find Fional 

Elijah paused for a brief moment, 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 closed behind him. 

The sudden brightness of the 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 mixture of worry and hope, their expressions filled with silent prayers. 

Elijah took a step forward, and the murmurs quieted. 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 attack, but that hadn’t stopped him from coming here. “Long live His Highness the Prince! Aken declared, his voice carrying through the still night. 

The villagers immediately echoed his words, their voices rising in unison. “Long live His Highness the Prince! Long live the Prince!” 

Elijah blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden chant. The villagers moved closer, their voices growing louder with every repetition. Some clapped, others bowed their heads, and many clasped their hands together as if in prayer. 

Aken stepped forward again, his gaze meeting Elijah’s. “Thank you, Your Highness, for protecting us. For fighting for us. We know you will find Lady Fion. You’ve already done so much” 

“You saved us from the rogues! You’re our only hope! A woman in the crowd called out, her hands clasped over her heart. 

Another voice chimed in. “Bring her back to us, Your Highness! We believe in you!” 

The crowd surged with emotion, their cheers mixing with words of gratitude and encouragement. Some held lanterns higher, their lights swaying as they waved them in support, 

Elijah’s grip on his sword tightened briefly, his gaze sweeping over the villagers. He then raised his free hand, motioning for silence. Slowly, the voices quieted, and the villagers stood waiting their eyes locked on him 

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Chapter 107 

“I will find her,” Elijah said. 

Soon enough, Elijah led a group of ten werewolves out of the village. Their footsteps were almost silent on the forest floor, their senses heightened and their weapons ready. Each member of the group was handpicked for their skill and loyalty, and none questioned Elijah’s decision to lead the search himself. 

The forest stretched endlessly around them, its shadows alive with the faint rustle of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. Elijah’s eyes. scanned the darkness ahead, his every step purposeful. He was focused on one goal: finding Fiona. 

They reached the area where the poisoned rogue had been discovered earlier. The ground still bore faint signs of the struggle–a smear of blood. here, disturbed earth 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 as his eyes narrowed 

Then he saw it—a small piece of fabric, barely visible against the underbrush. It was torn and dirtied, but unmistakable. Fiona’s scent clung to it like a whisper. Faint, but it was there. Elijah stood abruptly, the fabric clenched tightly in his hand. 

A growl rumbled deep in his chest, his anger simmering just below the surface. His wolf surged within him, begging to be unleashed. His breaths grew heavier, the urge to transform nearly overwhelming. But he forced himself to stay in control. 

“She was here,” he said, his voice carrying authority. He turned to face the others, his eyes glowing faintly in the dark. “Not long ago.” 

One of the werewolves, a younger scout, raised his hand slightly, his head tilting as he sniffed the air. “Your Highness, over here! I’ve found something. 

Elijah’s head snapped toward the scout, his movements swift as he strode in that direction. The scent hit him before he even reached the s 

e spot. It was faint but sharp, metallic, and foul Blood, 

Fiona’s blood. 

His expression darkened as he pushed past the scout, his heart pounding in his chest. He broke into a run, the others following closely behind. The scent grew stronger, leading him through the dense trees and down a narrow, rocky path. His instincts guided him, the trail ending at the edge of a