Alpha's STOLEN Mate (by Abigail Hayes) novel Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Elowen

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I clutched my stomach, letting out another pitiful groan as footsteps thundered into the room. Several guards rushed toward me, their

faces tight with concern, but one figure remained by the doorway–a grizzled captain with calculating eyes that swept over my supposedly

agonized form with obvious suspicion.

“Stop your movements, you idiots!” he barked, causing the other guards to freeze mid–step. His gaze never left my face as he stepped

closer. “The Alpha King leaves for barely an hour, and suddenly you’re deathly ill? Do you take us for fools?”

Shit. This one was too smart for his own good. I’d have to sell this performance harder than I’d planned.

Trembling, I pushed myself up into a half–crouch, swaying dramatically–then promptly vomited directly onto the captain’s boots. The

retching was real enough, my gag reflex having been triggered by my earlier efforts, and the sound echoed wetly off the stone walls.

“Look what I’m throwing up!” I gasped between heaves, pointing at the mess with a shaking hand. “You don’t know what I’ve been through

these past few days! Your people mistook me for a spy, tortured me half to death! It’s completely normal that my body would have violent

reactions to food now!” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, glaring up at him with as much indignation as I could muster. “Get

me a doctor! The best one you have! I don’t care how far away he lives! You know how much your Alpha King cares about my health!”

God, I can’t believe I’m saying this shit.

The captain stared down at his soiled boots, his expression torn between disgust and uncertainty. “Don’t start giving us orders! You’re still under suspicion of being a spy–why else would the Alpha King tell us to guard you so carefully?”

I struggled to my feet, one hand braced against the wall, the other pressed to my stomach as I fought back another fake wave of nausea. “Have you ever seen a spy housed in the Alpha King’s personal chambers?” I demanded, my voice gaining strength. “Do you know that he

and I are mates?”

Murmurs rippled through the gathered guards. I caught fragments of their whispered coversations:

“She’s right about that…”

“If something happens to her, we’ll be the ones who pay for it…”

“Don’t you remember? That dungeon captain Marcus got exiled just for questioning her without permission!”

Marcus. A surge of vicious satisfaction coursed through me at that reminder. Good. The bastard got what he deserved.

The captain’s jaw worked furiously as he processed this information. Finally, he spat out a frustrated, “Fuck!” His authority was crumbling,

and we both knew it.

“You two,” he snapped at the nearest guards, “go fetch the physician from the village. Quickly!”

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Two wolves immediately departed, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. My heart leaped–five guards down to three.

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I waited several minutes, continuing my performance with occasional groans and strategic weakness, before playing my next card. “Wait,” I

said, pressing my fingers to my temples. “I just remembered–I left something in the medical facility yesterday. Some… personal items

that I need. They’ll help me feel more comfortable while we wait for the doctor.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed, but two of his remaining subordinates exchanged glances.

“Captain,” one ventured, “if it helps keep her calm…”

“Fine!” he snarled. “You and Davies go retrieve whatever she needs. But be quick about it!”

Two more sets of footsteps disappeared down the hallway. Now there was only the captain and one nervous–looking young guard remaining.

Perfect.

I doubled over again, this time with genuine urgency in my voice. “Water,” I gasped. “Please, I need water. I’m so dehydrated…”

The captain hesitated, clearly torn between his duties and basic medical sense. Finally, he turned toward the deeper recesses of the chamber. “Watch her,” he told the remaining guard. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

As soon as he disappeared around the corner toward the water basin, I dropped the act entirely. In one fluid motion, I straightened and sprinted for the door, my bare feet silent on the stone floor. The young guard barely had time to process what was happening before I was

through the doorway, slamming it shut behind me.

The satisfying click of the lock engaging was music to my ears.

“Hey!” came the captain’s muffled roar from inside. “OPEN THIS DOOR!”

But I was already running, taking the stone steps three at a time as shouts erupted from the locked chamber behind me. My father’s training kicked in automatically–years of stealth exercises and combat drills that had seemed like torture as a child but now might save my life.

I moved through the castle like a ghost, using every shadow and alcove to my advantage. When footsteps approached from the east corridor, I melted into the western stairwell. When voices drifted up from below, I pressed myself against the ceiling alcoves until they passed.

The skills Commander Theron had drilled into his daughter were finally paying off.

Within minutes, I’d navigated the maze of corridors and emerged into the pre–dawn air outside the castle walls. The western mountains loomed before me, exactly as I’d observed from the window–lower, more manageable, with handholds that would let me climb to freedom.

I ran toward the foothills, my bare feet finding purchase on the rocky terrain. The dress Frost had given me was proving surprisingly

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practical for movement, its flowing fabric not restricting my stride. Behind me, alarm bells began ringing from the castle, but by then I

was already scaling the first ridgeline.

Almost there. Just reach the forest, and I’m free.

But as I crested the smaller western peak and prepared to descend into the valley beyond, the sound of snarling and yelping reached my

ears. I froze, peering down at the tree line where a battle was taking place.

Fuck. Of all the places for a fight….