Trapped with the Alpha King (Althea) novel Chapter 207

207: Space

The kiss was fierce and desperate, years of restraint pouring out in that single moment. It wasn’t gentle but raw, reckless, and fueled by everything he had never dared to say.

Candice stiffened in shock at first, her hands pressing against his chest. Her eyes widened, breath caught between them as his lips moved against hers, demanding, unyielding.

“Osman-” she tried to say, but the sound dissolved into a sharp inhale as his grip tightened slightly, not hurting her, just anchoring her there.

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stop for the both of them. Candice’s mind went blank, stunned by the intensity of it. By the way his lips moved against hers with such certainty, such desperation. By the way her body betrayed her before her thoughts could catch up.

Then reality slammed back into place. She abruptly pulled away from him and her hand flew up.

Smack.

Osman barely had time to register it before the sting bloomed across his cheek. His head snapped slightly to the side, breath knocked from his lungs more by shock than pain.

Candice’s hand trembled as she lowered it, her chest rising and falling fast. Her eyes burned with fury, disbelief, and something close to hurt. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped. “Have you lost your mind?”

Osman slowly turned his face back to her. His cheek throbbed, but he barely felt it. All he could see was her. The fire in her eyes. The way her lips parted as if she were still trying to catch her breath.

“You don’t get to do that,” she continued, voice shaking despite her anger. “You don’t get to decide for me. You don’t get to-”

She stopped short when Osman stepped forward again.

Her eyes widened. “Don’t,” she warned, knowing what he was intended to do. She was not blind and she could see how his eyes were burning with desire to kiss her again. But he didn’t listen.

Osman reached out, gripping her wrist gently this time, not dragging her, not forcing her-just stopping her from retreating. Before she could react, before she could slap him again or hurl another sharp word at him, he pulled her in and kissed her again.

This time, the kiss was different. Still urgent, still reckless but slower and deeper as if he were pouring every

unsaid truth into it.

Candice gasped into his mouth, stunned. For a second, her body stiffened, anger flaring hot and sharp. Her free

hand lifted-

But it didn’t strike him. Instead, it hovered between them, uncertain.

Osman felt it. That hesitation. It nearly undid him.

He pulled back abruptly, releasing her wrist, stepping away as if bracing himself.

There it is, he thought grimly. Here it comes. He waited for the second slap but didn’t come. Instead, Cassi

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surged forward. She grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands and yanked him down to her level, her lips crashing into his with a force that stole the breath from his lungs.

Osman froze for one heartbeat. Then instinct took over. He kissed her back, stunned and aching and overwhelmed all at once. Her kiss wasn’t angry now. It wasn’t questioning. It was fierce, desperate, and unfiltered, as if something inside her had snapped just as violently as it had inside him.

Her fingers twisted in his clothes, holding him there like she was afraid to let go. Osman’s hands hovered for a moment before settling carefully at her waist, grounding himself, grounding her.

The world narrowed to the sharp realization that this moment had been building for far longer than either of them wanted to admit.

Candice tasted so sweet that Osman felt he could spend the entire night doing nothing but kissing his mate, lingering there, lost in the slow tangle of their tongues. He pressed closer, deepening the kiss until both of them were left breathless, caught in something neither was ready to pull away from.

Heaven help him, Osman was more than ready to take her right then and there, to claim her and mark her as his. But even as desire surged through him, he knew he could not.

When the kiss finally broke, Candice stayed close, forehead brushing his, her eyes unfocused, her breathing

uneven.

Osman opened his mouth. “Candice, I—”

She lifted a finger and pressed it gently to his lips.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

The word was not angry, but it was distant, and the distance left him both alarmed and confused. Still, she kissed him back, and that alone sent him floating on cloud nine.

For a brief moment, he thought this might be the beginning of something between them. Or maybe he was only imagining it, clinging to a hope that existed nowhere but in his own mind.

She stepped back, her hands falling away from him as if she were suddenly unsure what to do with them. Her gaze drifted past his shoulder, unfocused, like she was looking at something only she could see.

Osman’s chest tightened.

“Candice,” he said softly, taking a step toward her.

She shook her head.

“I need space,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “Right now.”

He followed her instinctively when she turned away.

She stopped. If looks could cut, he would have been on his knees.

“Don’t,” she repeated, sharper now. “Don’t follow me. Don’t talk to me. Not tonight.”

Osman clenched his fists at his sides. “I just want to explain.”

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“There is nothing you can say this evening that I’m ready to hear,” she replied, not turning around. “If you respect me even a little… you’ll let me walk away.”

The words hurt more than the slap.

Osman swallowed hard. Every instinct screamed at him to close the distance, to pull her back, to tell her everything he’d been holding inside for years.

But he didn’t.

Candice took that as her answer.

She walked away, her steps steady even if her shoulders were tense, disappearing down the stone path that led back toward the cottages.

Osman stayed where he was, staring after her long after she vanished from sight. His wolf stirred faintly inside him, not angry this time.

Just… alert.

“She felt it,” Osman muttered under his breath.

He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. But one thing was certain. Nothing between them would ever be the same again.

Justice Is Done

The public execution grounds had not been used in years.

At dawn, the vast stone plaza of the capital city was already filled with people. Nobles stood beside commoners. Warriors in full armor lined the perimeter, their grim expressions.

Whispers spread through the crowd like a restless current, heavy with anticipation and unease. Everyone knew who would die today.

Lady Ava Stone. The former royal aide from one of the noble families. The woman was once trusted within the palace walls. And now, the traitor who had nearly torn the kingdom apart from within.

At the center of the grounds stood a raised ancient stone platform. Runes were carved deep into its surface. Two iron posts rose from the stone, enchanted chains hanging between them, pulsing faintly with suppressive energy meant to restrain even the strongest werewolf.

Archmage Uriel stood at the front of the platform with that cold and resolute expression he wouldn’t normally wear. Beside him was Beta Simon, clad in black armor, who held a scroll in his hands, sealed with the royal crest.

There was no mercy in this place.

Ava was dragged forward by two guards, her wrists bound in enchanted restraints. Her hair was wild, her once elegant attire torn and stained. Yet despite everything, there was a strange light in her eyes, sharp and feverish.

She laughed as she was forced onto the platform. Not a nervous laugh, not fear but something unhinged.

The crowd fell into silence as Simon stepped forward and unrolled the scroll. His voice carried clearly across the grounds, steady and unwavering.

“Ava Stone of the Moonlight Pack,” he began, “you stand accused of treason against the crown, conspiracy against the Alpha King, manipulation of the royal court, attempted murder, abuse of forbidden magic, and endangerment of the kingdom and its people.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

Simon continued, “Your crimes have been documented, witnessed, and verified. Today, they will be laid bare before all.”

Uriel lifted his staff and struck it once against the stone. Light flared.

Illusions bloomed into the air above the platform. Scenes played out in painful clarity. How Ava whispered lies into the ears of nobles, poisoning alliances and manipulating events from the shadows, like her secret dealings to poison and manipulate Princess Riela and the Queen Mother.

Gasps echoed across the grounds.

Ava tilted her head back and laughed louder.

“So dramatic,” she mocked. “You always loved theatrics, Uriel.”

Uriel did not respond.

Simon moved to the next illusion. The image shifted. Ava standing alone in a chamber, speaking to herself, her

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eyes wild.

“I am the one meant to stand beside him.” Another scene followed. Ava sabotaging protections. Ava allowing danger to creep closer to the royal family. Ava smiling as chaos unfolded.

The crowd erupted into shouts of anger.

“Treasonous witch!”

“She endangered the Alpha King!”

“She deserves death!”

Ava turned her head slowly, eyes blazing as she drank in their fury.

“Look at you all,” she sneered. “So eager to judge. So eager to condemn.”

She twisted against the chains and spat at the stone near Uriel’s feet.

“You think you’re righteous?” she hissed. “You think any of you are innocent?”

Simon’s jaw tightened.

Ava suddenly laughed again, louder, sharper.

“Where is he?” she demanded. “Where is the Alpha King?”

Her gaze swept the crowd wildly. “Is he hiding? Too afraid to watch me die?”

Uriel stepped forward at last.

“The presence of the Alpha King is not required for your execution,” he said calmly. “He has more important things to attend to.”

That was when something inside Ava snapped completely.

Her laughter turned shrill and unrestrained. “Oh, Uriel,” she crooned. “You were always blind.”

She leaned forward against the chains, eyes locking onto him. “Do you know what I did for you?” she shouted. “ Do you know what I sacrificed?”

Uriel’s expression did not change, but his grip on his staff tightened.

“I brought you and Rizza together,” Ava screamed. “I bent fate itself so you could be mates. Fated mates. I gave you everything.”

The crowd gasped.

“And you know why?” Ava continued, voice cracking with manic delight. “So I could have him. Gavriel was always meant to be mine.”

She threw her head back, laughing wildly. “I gave you a mate and love so I could take the crown.”

Uriel’s eyes darkened.

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“You lost yourself,” he said quietly.

“I found myself,” Ava shrieked. “You were useless, Uriel. Weak. Always hiding behind rules and morality.”

She glared at him with venom. “I was willing to burn the world for him.”

Her gaze swept across the crowd.

“And now?” she shouted. “Now everything is perfect. The kingdom sees me. I am the one who should be

Luna.”

Silence followed her declaration.

Then the crowd erupted in fury.

“You are mad!”

“She is insane!”

“Traitor!”

Simon raised his hand, commanding silence.

“Ava,” he said firmly, “you have confessed openly. Your fate is sealed.”

your

The chains tightened, glowing brighter as Ava struggled against them. She snarled, her voice lowering into something feral. “You think death scares me? I would die a thousand times for him.”

Uriel raised his staff.

“The sentence for your crimes,” he declared, “is execution by lunar decree. You will die as a criminal of our kind, stripped of name, title, and legacy.”

For the first time, fear flickered across Ava’s face. Just briefly. Then she screamed. The runes ignited, power surging through the platform. Ava’s screams echoed across the execution grounds as the magic took hold, suppressing her wolf, her strength, her very essence.

She thrashed, cursed, laughed, and cried all at once.

“I was meant to be Luna!” she screamed. “I was meant to rule!”

Simon stepped forward, his voice final.

“Justice is done.”

Uriel brought his staff down.

Light flared and Ava’s scream cut short. The magic surged once more, then faded into silence.

When the light cleared, the platform stood empty. No body remained. Only ashes scattered across the stone, carried away by the morning wind. The crowd stood frozen, the weight of the moment settling heavily over them.

Uriel lowered his staff, shoulders tense but steady.

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Simon turned to the people.

“Let this be known,” he declared. “Treason will never be tolerated. The crown stands. The kingdom endures.”

My Love

My Love

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Althea could not believe she had slept so long, and no one had even bothered to wake her.

Sunlight was already seeping through the window, so she tried to move, only for Gavriel’s arms to tighten around her. He was hugging her from behind, their bodies turned on their sides, her back pressed warmly against his chest.

They were still naked, and her face flushed when she realized that Gavriel’s throbbing shaft was practically still inside her.

Then she bit her lower lip as she felt Gavriel’s hand slide between her thighs. His fingers brushed against her sensitive flesh, rubbing gently as he slowly moved inside her. He was so hard, filling her completely, and a low moan escaped him as he pulled back before gliding forward again, his shaft thrusting deep into her.

“Gavriel,” she called softly, but he did not answer. Instead, his fingers continued to rub her clit while he kept moving in and out of her, steady and unrelenting.

Althea’s body was fully awake now, sensation and pleasure completely taking over. Her toes curled as Gavriel’s movements quickened. He kept pushing and pulling inside her until her inner walls clenched, her body jolting in a powerful spasm, yet he did not stop.

“Ah… so good,” Gavriel groaned, driving himself harder, faster, and deeper until he stiffened and poured himself completely inside her. Then, he trailed kisses along her shoulder blades, licking her skin as he murmured, “This is the perfect way to wake up my love.”

He still held her close, his lips now grazing the curve of her neck as his hands roamed over her back, tracing every shiver and sigh. “You feel incredible,” he murmured, voice low and husky.

Slowly, deliberately, he shifted, pressing his body against hers again, sliding inside her again with a measured rhythm, each movement deep and consuming.

Althea’s breath hitched, fingers digging into his shoulders as she gasped, “Gav… I… want more…”

A low chuckle rumbled from him. “You’ll have all of me,” he promised, lips brushing hers in a fiery, fleeting kiss before his hands gripped her hips tighter, moving faster, deeper, making sure every inch of their connection was felt.

He paused only to kiss and lick along her collarbone, nipping gently, before burying himself again, their bodies moving together as if they were one. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire, ” never enough.”

“Then let’s do more,” Althea whispered, her breath rasping against his chest. Every word from him-every tender name, every “my love”-made her ache in ways she couldn’t ignore. Her body burned with need, longing to feel closer to him, to be more united with him in every way.

Gavriel paused for a moment, catching his breath, his hands still gripping her hips. “Won’t you get tired if we keep going like this?” he asked, his voice low but teasing. He wondered just how much more she wanted, how far her desire would stretch.

Yet a part of him hesitated. Althea still needed her energy to heal Riela. Even though she insisted that making love to him wouldn’t deplete her inner strength, a flicker of worry tugged at him.

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