Mated To The Alpha King (Raven and Ethan) novel Chapter 355

Chapter 355

Reven’s POV

The sound of the plate shattering rang louder in my head than it did in the corridor.

For one terrifying heartbeat, I froze.

My chest tightened painfully, my heart slamming against my ribs as instinct screamed at me to run.

Panic threatened to rise, hot and choking, but I swallowed it down with everything I had. Panic would betray me. Panic would get me killed.

The door to the study flew open.

Light spilled into the hallway, harsh and blinding against the darkness, cutting across the stone floor where shards of broken porcelain lay scattered at my feet. I didn’t look up immediately.

I dropped to my knees instead, as if startled by my own clumsiness, my hands trembling as I began to gather the broken pieces.

“I–I’m sorry,” I said quickly, forcing my voice to shake in the right way. Weak. Afraid. Harmless. “I didn’t mean to-”

The Rough King stood in the doorway.

His presence filled the space completely, heavy and suffocating. I could feel his gaze on me like a blade pressing against my skin, sharp and measuring. I kept my head bowed, my hair falling forward to hide my face as my fingers closed around the fragments on the floor.

“What are you doing out of your room at this hour?” he asked.

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

“I was returning the plate,” I murmured softly. “I couldn’t sleep, my lord. I didn’t want to trouble anyone.”

It wasn’t the full truth–but it was believable.

Silence stretched.

I felt his eyes rake over me slowly, assessing. My breathing stayed shallow, controlled. I made myself smaller, weaker, exactly how he liked me.

After a moment, he spoke again. “Clean it up and go back to your room.”

Relief nearly made my knees give out.

“Yes, my lord,” I replied quietly.

I finished gathering the shards, my hands trembling–not from fear of punishment, but from the storm raging inside me. Every heartbeat echoed one single truth, over and over again.

Alpha Ethan is alive.

The words burned into my mind: searing, impossible, overwhelming.

Alive.

Not dead.

Not ashes beneath the rubble of a fallen fortress.

Alive.

And the Rough King had lied to me.

Lied about killing him.

I lied about my children.

My throat tightened painfully as I forced myself to remain calm. I stood slowly, bowed my head, and stepped away. The Rough King was already turning back into his study, the door closing behind him without another glance.

He didn’t know.

He had no idea I had heard a single word.

I walked down the corridor carefully, each step measured, my body moving on pure instinct.

Only when I turned the corner and the study disappeared from sight did my lungs finally draw in a full breath.

Once inside my room, I locked the door.

Then I collapsed against it.

My knees hit the floor hard, but I barely felt the pain. My entire body shook violently as I pressed a hand to my mouth, biting down to silence the sob clawing its way up my throat.

Alive.

Ethan was alive.

The man I had mourned. The mate I believed I had lost forever. The man whose name I had whispered into the darkness when the nights became unbearable.

Alive.

My thoughts spiraled chaotically. If he was alive, then what else had the Rough King lied about?

My children.

The memory of them hit me like a physical blow–tiny hands, bright laughter, warm embraces that still lived beneath my skin. Had they truly died?

Or had that been another lie meant to break me completely?

Hope stirred.

And I hated it.

Hope was dangerous.

Hope made you careless. Made you weak. Made you forget how cruel the world could be.

I had survived this long because I believed there was nothing left to lose. Because grief had hardened me into something unfeeling and numb.

Hope threatened to undo all of that.

Tears slid silently down my cheeks as I pressed my forehead against the door, my shoulders trembling.

I had to be careful.

Very careful.

And why was the Rough King so confident it would work?

It was still there.

Weak. Damaged. But not gone.

“Ethan,” I whispered silently, tears filling my eyes.

There was no answer.

But the ache lingered.

Days later, I was summoned.

The Rough King’s guard escorted me to his chamber, and I followed obediently, my face carefully blank.

My heart pounded violently, but I kept my expression calm.

He circled me slowly, his gaze cold and calculating.

“You’re healing,” he said. “Good.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You’ve been quiet,” he continued. “Submissive.”

I bowed my head. “I’ve accepted my fate.”

Another lie.

One he wanted to hear.

A faint smile curved his lips. “Good. Broken women are easier to control.”

His words made my stomach churn, but I didn’t react.

After a moment, he dismissed me.

As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.

“You should let go of the dead, Reven,” he said calmly. “They don’t come back.”

I paused–just for a heartbeat.

Then I nodded.

“Yes, my lord.”

I left without another word.

But inside me, something dangerous had awakened.

He thought I believed him.

He thought I was still blind.

He was mistaken.

And somewhere beyond these walls, Alpha Ethan was alive.