The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Three

"Leander Silverthorn!"

A male struts forward proudly from the endless crowd, dressed in silver from the helmet on his head to the spurs of his boots. His coppery hair gleams in the sunlight and when he turns to bare his teeth at us fiercely, I see that he is missing one eye.

The Quartermaster, Sebastian, points to the heap behind him. "Your uniform. You are allotted only one pair." He adds after Leander picks his and growls after sniffing it. "I’d strongly advice you wash them before use." He points at the massive gates by his right. "Beyond those gates will be your new home until the war. You will be provided with rooms and rationed meals. Step out and you will be put down without hesitation. Should it be found that there are spies among you--because there will be--you will be tortured to your deaths. So, I suggest that you flee from here before I clock you in."

As if on cue, I see figures on the roofs with spears and nocked bows, arrows directed at each of us, waiting.

He ticks Leander’s name off his long list and I feel the urge to shrink back in the crowd with hopes that it will make me invisible.

But I am getting funny looks from the men around me. They are laughing and talking about how someone my size isn’t going to last the first day.

I already knew that, and it brings relief to me that they are more amused by my helpless than the fact that I do not look like a man.

A horse neighs in the distance, and a hush falls over the crowd. I step on the tip of my toe to see why everyone is suddenly on attention and alert, and my eyes land on him.

My heart stumbles and I fall into a crouch, hiding. The Prince is here. I start to chew on my fingernails nervously. I knew he would be here. He’s the General. But... what if he recognises me from last night?

Thoughts run free in my mind, all of which entails just how they’re going to stone me to death and kill my family if they find that I am a woman.

No. I sigh, slapping my forehead and wincing as the helmet hits my skin. I can’t afford to fail now. There is too much at stake.

I straighten and bow with the crowd when the Prince stops beside the Quartermaster, whose head is nearly touching the ground. "How many?" His voice booms across the field, sending dreadful shivers down my spine.

"Five thousand accounted for," Sebastian replies smoothly and I raise my head slightly, taking a peek at the Quartermaster peering into his list. "Fifteen thousand yet to be confirmed."

I hear the Prince grunt. "Not nearly enough. By the end of today, have the list of the defaulting families sent to my study."

"Yes, Your Grace."

A woman comes riding in next and my jaw drops. She’s the most beautiful woman I have seen. Wavy brown curls bounce around her striking face, and her grey eyes sparkle with joy when they land on the Prince. Her glossy lips crack into a faint smile, and her flawless skin brightens, much like the sun.

"Her lips, mate. I can only imagine the things they could do. She’s a walking wet dream, that one," a man whispers beside me, jamming his shoulder into mine and it dawns on me a few seconds later that he is expecting me to say something in response.

How do I respond to something like that?

I clear my throat, deepening my voice. It still comes out squeaky as I say, "Who is she?"

Another man turns to me, gaping. He is younger, and has a somewhat pleasant face. "There is not a man who walks the grounds of Silvermoor that does not know Astraea of House Raven."

My ears perk at that. "House Raven? The King’s Beta? She is his daughter?"

He nods. "And only the fairest woman on Silvermoor. Her beauty would tempt even the Goddess. I’d give anything to get a taste of that."

Another man snickers behind us. "You call sure death upon yourself, eyeing the Prince’s woman."

"He hasn’t claimed her yet. I hear he is holding out, until the bond is in place. She is a free woman until then."

My gaze is drawn ahead as the Prince lifts her off the horse and kisses her. They do look good together.

"Eldric Ironfang!" Sebastian calls out and I jerk, stumbling through the ranks to get out in front of the crowd. I am almost at the front when someone’s foot sticks out, tripping me.

I fall forward, crashing to the ground in a loud thud of heavy metals and the helmet rolls off my head. The air in my lungs whooshes out and I squint at the bright sky, coughing and pushing the shield as it starts to crush my chest.

Roaring laughter fills the air and my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I struggle to lift myself from the ground. The armour is too heavy. The shield is even worse. Where is my helmet?

Tears sting my eyes as I push up, wobbling slightly as I bring myself to my feet, meeting the disapproving stare of the Quartermaster. "Eldric Ironfang?" he asks, dark eyes flicking over me. "I met Eldric last year. You are not him."

My heart ricochets in my chest, and I feel a piercing gaze on me. I look left to find the Prince and his woman staring at me.

But it is the Prince’s gaze that has my attention. He studies me with a predator’s gaze, assessing me from my head to my toe. I study him as well. He looks even more striking in daytime. And menacing. He didn’t just fill up space; he completely owned every inch of it. Six foot four or five, he towers above me, nearly three times my size. I might as well be a worm before him.

It is all I can do not to cower. I’m not sure which I would like to do--run from him, hit him for last night, or kiss him.

He attracts in a way that defies reason. Devastatingly masculine, yet beautiful. Sexual, carnal, scary.

"He’s a pretty one," Astraea cooes, breaking the intense silence. "That is one nasty scar. Do tell, how did you get it?"

Her dark gaze is condescending in every way, and her eyebrows quirk up expectantly. I give my frostiest look and turn away, dismissing her. Men like to boast of things like scars and women they have bedded.

But then, I’m not a man, and I’m not here to impress.

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