The Rogue is a Female Alpha novel Chapter 592

Snowflakes

Finished

“I didn’t know you were this serious with Cupid Godlike,” Dove whispered as we stacked plates side by side at the sink, Her voice was low, but the disbelief in it was sharp enough to cut. “I thought you two were just… sleeping together.”

I froze, fork halfway to the drying rack. Slowly I turned and gave her the flattest, most unimpressed glare I could manage.

“Sleeping together?”

“Okay, okay. You’re not the type,” she backtracked quickly, raising both hands like she was warding off an attack. “But come on, Snow…” She leaned in closer, eyes narrowing as she studied my face. “Cupid Godlike doesn’t exactly scream relationship material.‘ He looks like the kind of man who breaks hearts for sport. And how is he even connected to Marlik anyway?”

“They’re rogues who grew up together,” I answered tightly, turning back to the plates so she wouldn’t see how much the question rattled me.

Dove was taken aback.

“Really?”

“You’re a wolf too,” I muttered. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know Cupid is a rogue wolf.”

“I know that. I just… didn’t know he grew up with Marlik.” She exhaled through her nose, rolling her eyes. “So what happens if you find your mate and he’s not Cupid?”

“Reject him. What else?”

She gave me a long, level look. “You need the mate bond to heal whatever’s broken in your body, remember?” She let the words hang, heavy and factual. “And breaking a wolf bond isn’t like signing divorce papers. It’s… different. Difficult. Painful.”

1/4

35 pm

Charter Seg

Finished

I swallowed hard. Turned my back to her and pretended to focus on rinsing a glass that was already clean.

Just then Mother walked into the kitchen. She stopped short when she saw us elbow–deep in dishes.

“Why are you two…? Goodness, no.” She hurried over and gently but firmly took the plates from our hands, setting them back in the sink. “You both need to relax. The maids will handle this. Go rest.”

Dove bowed politely.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

She headed for the doorway. I started to follow, then Mother’s voice stopped me cold.

“You love Jahan, don’t you?”

Goosebumps raced up my arms.

I turned slowly. She stood there, hands clasped in front of her apron, eyes soft but searching, anxious in a way that made my chest ache.

“With… all your heart?” she asked quietly. “Or just… just for now?”

I didn’t hesitate.

“I love him,” I said, each word soft but certain. “With all my heart. Too much. I think… I can’t live without him.”

Her expression crumpled, not with sadness, but with something brighter, more fragile. Relief. Gratitude. Love.

She crossed the small space between us and took both my hands in hers. They were warm, calloused from years of caring for people who weren’t her blood.

“If he ever does anything you don’t like,” she said firmly, “anything at all that makes you think of leaving come to me. I’ll talk to him. He’s my son. He’ll listen.”

I searched her eyes and found only honesty, the kind I’d never seen in my own

2/4

2:35 pm

Chapter Say

nether. Not once.

##Finished

Quietly, I leaned forward and hugged her. She hugged me back, tight, fierce, like she’d been waiting years to do it.

When I finally pulled away, my throat was tight:

I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Marlik sat sprawled on the couch, watching the news with half–lidded eyes. Cupid leaned against the armrest beside him barefoot, relaxed, sleeves rolled up, laughing quietly at something Marlik had just said.

I slowed down without meaning to.

There was no tension between them. No guarded glances. Just… brotherhood. Easy. Real. Both of them barefoot on the rug like they’d done it a thousand times.

Marlik looked different tonight, more handsome than I remembered. Buzz cut sharp, tattoos curling along his cheekbone and jaw, power radiating off him even in stillness.

I found myself smiling at the sight of them.

Then I remembered Desmond.

My gaze shifted to the bar counter. He stood there alone, glass of wine in one hand, phone in the other, scrolling with that cool, detached focus he always had. Posh. Polished. The kind of man who grew up knowing wealth and power were his birthright.

A movement at the edge of my vision.

Dove stepped out from the hallway into the living room. She stopped short when she saw the television, frowned deeply at the headline crawling across the screen

“The housekeeper has been sentenced to death by hanging?”

Her voice cracked, almost a yell.

I looked away.

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