Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 28

The look of a man seconds away from losing it.

The look of a predator with blood already on his tongue.

And when his eyes locked on mine, the breath caught in my chest.

Then-movement.

My gaze slid sideways and caught on another face. My throat went dry. My father.

Alpha Gregor.

His expression was a mask of composure, but beneath it-shock. His eyes widened a fraction, just enough for me to see the truth. He hadn’t expected to see me here. He hadn’t expected me to be alive, breathing, standing in the middle of this room where kings and Alphas clashed.

The urge to smirk burned through me, and I let it surface. Just a little. A curve of my lips that carried every ounce of venom I’d swallowed since the day he’d cast me out.

The worthless daughter. The ugly mistake.

And yet here I was.

Before I could savor the moment further, a shadow shifted at the head of the table. 1

The King’s eyes cut through the space between us, dark and unyielding, and before I could think to move, he extended a hand. Not for me to take. No-his power was command enough.

My feet carried me forward like they didn’t belong to me. The closer I got, the heavier the air pressed, until the fine hairs at the back of my neck stood on end.

And then, to my shock-

He pulled me into his lap.

A sharp gasp caught in my throat, swallowed by the collective hush that swept across the room. Every Alpha’s stare burned hotter, their confusion palpable. My father’s eyes locked on me, disbelief flickering across his face like lightning in a storm.

The King didn’t care.

His arm wrapped around me, strong and possessive, his grip firm on my thigh. His nose brushed the curve of my neck, inhaling slowly, deeply, as if anchoring himself to my scent. The pressure of his fingers digging into my skin told me one thing clear as day: I wasn’t going anywhere.

For a moment, time itself seemed to stop.

The daughter he’d thrown away, the daughter not worth remembering, now sitting in the lap of the most feared king alive.

I met my father’s stare. This time, I didn’t just smirk-I bared my teeth in a smile sharp enough to cut. For a moment I almost forgot about escape plans or fear or shame. For once, I enjoyed watching his composure crack.

The King’s voice shattered the silence.

“You were saying, Jack?”

The words were silk over steel, low and deliberate, yet the force behind them was enough to make the walls tremble. Every eye swung toward the Alpha at the far side of the table-Alpha Jack, who sat rigid.

The tension in the room coiled tighter, every second stretching into a blade’s edge.

Slowly, the King shifted me off his lap, setting me carefully on my feet. His hand lingered just long enough for every Alpha to see, to know, before he rose.

When he stood, the air thickened further. He moved with the ease of a predator, each step measured, deliberate, as he circled the table. And when he stopped, it was behind Jack.

The Alpha’s shoulders went stiff, the bravado look on his face draining as the King’s shadow swallowed him whole.

“I am the King,” his voice rolled out, deep and unrelenting, filling every corner of the room. “And I cannot be everywhere at once. That is why I made certain each pack has an Alpha. If there is an attack on your land, that is not a failure of the throne.

That is your failure as Alpha to protect what is yours.”

His words cut like claws, each syllable heavy with truth, with power.

He leaned closer, his presence pressing down on Jack until sweat broke along his temple. “So if you wish to speak of failure,” the King murmured, his voice carrying to every ear in the room, “look at yourself.”

The Alpha’s scent soured-fear spiking sharp and acrid, no matter how stiffly he tried to hold himself.

The King straightened, his gaze a blade poised at the throat of every Alpha seated at that table. “Alpha Jack,” he said coldly, the next time you think to disrespect me, I won’t simply strip you of your title. I will make you a rogue.’

The word hung in the air like a death sentence.

Jack’s eyes widened, his false bravado shattering. He bowed his head so fast it nearly cracked against the table, his voice trembling when it finally broke free. “I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

The apology fell like ash in the silence that followed.

Slowly, the King turned, retracing his steps back to his seat. The Alphas watched with held breath, eyes flicking between him and me as though waiting for the next strike.

I seized the chance. I shifted, ready to move, ready to slip out before his temper turned or the game twisted again. But I’d forgotten-he wasn’t done with me.

The moment I tried to step away, his hand shot out, capturing mine with an unyielding grip. In one swift motion, he pulled me back into his lap.

This time, his breath brushed hot against my neck, his lips so close I could feel the heat of every word as he whispered-

“Where do you think you’re going? his voice was low enough that only I could hear. His grip tightened on my waist, a chain disguised as a caress. “You’re not leaving my sight for the rest of the day.”

No.

No, no, no.

My heart was a drum inside my chest, beating so violently I swore the whole room must have heard it. His words—his damn claim-coiled around me like chains.

‘You’re not leaving my sight for the rest of the day.’

I screamed in my head, over and over, the words clawing at me. No. I have to escape. I can’t let him ruin this. Not tonight. Not when I’ve waited this long. Not when freedom is right there, almost within my reach.

I forced my breathing steady, biting down so hard on the inside of my cheek I tasted blood. I couldn’t let him see. If he suspected even an ounce of my thoughts, if he so much as sniffed out a whisper of my plan, I’d be done for.

So I smiled.

Calm. Composed. A good little puppet on his lap.

But inside, my mind raced. Every second that ticked by during that damned meeting blurred into one long torment. Voices rose and fell around the table as Alphas droned on about territory lines, rogue attacks, and supply disputes. I heard none of it. My entire being was focused on one thing only: finding a way out.

I shifted slightly in his lap, testing the strength of his grip. His arm tightened instantly around my waist, pulling me flush against him. My stomach twisted with disgust. To the others in the room, it probably looked intimate, protective. To me, it felt like a warning: Don’t even think about it.

So I sat there, silent, fuming, while he kept me caged against him.

The hours dragged, slow and suffocating. When the meeting was finally called for a short break, I thought-finally. I could slip away, even for a moment, just to breathe.

But the second I tried to rise, his hand clamped down, dragging me back down onto his lap like I belonged there.

“Stay,” he murmured, low enough only I could hear.

Stay. Like I was some pet.

The fury roared hot inside my chest, but I swallowed it down, forcing my face blank as the others filtered out of the room. Soon, it was just us. Him and me.

And his mouth. His mouth on my neck.

I stiffened as his lips brushed my skin, soft but suffocating, his nose buried against the curve where my shoulder met my throat. He inhaled deeply, a growl of satisfaction rumbling low in his chest.

What the hell is wrong with him?

I forced myself not to flinch, not to shove him away. The more I fought, the tighter he’d hold me. I knew that by now. So I sat still, rigid as stone, even as his hand curved possessively around my thigh.

At last, food was brought in. I thought, Good. He’ll let me go now.

But of course, he didn’t.

The tray was set down, and instead of releasing me, he shifted me higher on his lap, keeping me pinned against his chest with one arm while the other reached for the food.

My temper snapped.