Mated To The Alpha King (Raven and Ethan) novel Chapter 275

Chapter 275

Reven’s Perspective

Derick rose silently from the bed, reaching for a shirt and slipping it on with careful, deliberate movements. His jaw clenched tightly, betraying the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind—thoughts triggered by the guard’s unsettling message.

Alpha Ethan was waiting downstairs.

Before he could leave, I spoke up quickly, “I’m coming with you.”

Slipping into my slippers and clutching the edges of my gown, I hurried after him. He didn’t stop me, and I silently thanked him for that small mercy.

Closing the door behind us, I descended the stairs at a brisk pace. My heart pounded fiercely in my chest, the tension thick in the air.

The staircase seemed to stretch endlessly beneath my feet—was it the dread tightening my chest, the flood of memories, or simply the knowledge that Alpha Ethan’s arrival never boded well?

At the bottom, I fell into step beside Derick. He didn’t reach for my hand, yet stayed close enough for our shoulders to brush lightly—a subtle reassurance that he didn’t want me far away.

Entering the living room, I froze.

There was Alpha Ethan.

Seated in his wheelchair.

Positioned squarely in the center of the room.

His gaze was fixed not on us, but on the photographs lining the walls—pictures of me, the children, and Derick.

His posture was rigid, hands resting firmly on the wheels. At first, he didn’t even glance our way; his eyes locked onto the largest photo—a snapshot from the twins’ fourth birthday, where I held them close and Derick stood behind us, beaming with the pride of a father who had chosen his role wholeheartedly.

Instantly, something primal stirred inside me—my wolf awakened.

“Go to him.”

“Touch him.”

“He is ours.”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment.

Not now.

Not like this.

Not ever.

I pushed the wolf back down, forcing calm over the rising storm.

Derick stepped forward, straightening his shoulders and standing tall—the alpha of this pack reclaiming his presence. His energy filled the room, strong and unyielding.

At last, Alpha Ethan shifted his gaze away from the pictures and turned toward us. His eyes found mine first—cold, unreadable, deep—but there was a flicker there, something fragile like pain or perhaps longing. I couldn’t be sure.

Then his stare moved to Derick.

“What are you doing here?” Derick’s voice was steady but edged with a simmering anger. “I thought I told you to stay away from my pack.”

Alpha Ethan’s lips curled into a small, sharp smile.

“Stay out of your pack?” he repeated softly. “When my kids and their mother are here? Never.”

His words struck me like a harsh slap; my breath caught, lodged painfully in my chest.

Before Derick could respond, I stepped forward, my voice firm despite trembling hands.

“Those kids are never yours,” I said. “They will never be yours. They belong to Derick. You were only kind enough to donate sperm—that’s all you ever did, and that’s all you ever will.”

Derick’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by the harshness in my tone, but he said nothing to stop me.

Alpha Ethan stared at me long and hard—too long.

“That’s all I’ve done, huh?” he murmured under his breath. “Got it.”

His words cut deep, though his expression remained unreadable.

Derick touched my arm gently.

“Reven, sit,” he whispered.

I resisted the urge to show weakness in front of Ethan, but I obeyed. This was no time for pride—it was a time for wisdom.

I sank down beside Derick. He sat too, but his body remained tense, alert.

But he didn’t rise.

He didn’t roar.

He didn’t attack.

He only stared Ethan down.

“I will never hand the kids over to you,” Derick said slowly, his voice steady and resolute. “Never. And I’m ready to face the werewolf council. I’m not afraid.”

Alpha Ethan nodded once.

“Good,” he said. “Then be ready to face the council in two days, Alpha Derick.”

Without another word, he turned his wheelchair and began rolling toward the door, his movements smooth and confident, as if this confrontation had been planned for a long time.

He didn’t look back. Not once.

The guard opened the door, and Alpha Ethan exited the living room.

The moment he disappeared, the silence in the room became deafening—too heavy, too loud in its stillness.

I sat frozen, hands resting on my thighs, heart aching fiercely.

Breathing felt difficult, shallow.

Derick exhaled slowly.

“Reven,” he said, turning to me, “calm down.”

“How can he do this?” I whispered, voice cracking.

Derick drew me close, wrapping his arms around me.

“He won’t win,” he promised softly. “I swear. And once this is over, I’ll take you and the kids far away—somewhere Ethan will never find us.”

Tears burned in my eyes.

All of this was my fault. If only I had told Derick sooner—when we first met—none of this might have happened.