Trapped with the Alpha King (Althea) novel Chapter 209

In Chains 209/28

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In Chains 209/211

Night and day seemed to stretch longer than they should have as Zander followed the spell he had placed on Rett, tracking him effortlessly wherever he went.

Dark clouds smothered the sky above the ravine where Cain and Rett had built their hideout, a jagged nest of stone and shadow carved into the mountainside. The low hum of ancient magic pulsed through the air, thick and oppressive, as if the mountain itself was holding its breath.

Zander stood at the mouth of the cavern, his cloak fluttering faintly despite the still air. His eyes glowed as he surveyed the place. He had expected resistance. He had expected traps.

But he had not expected this.

The magic layered across the hideout was old. Older than most covenants. It crawled across the walls like living veins, pulsing slowly, greedily, feeding on something buried deep within the stone.

“Interesting,” Zander murmured under his breath.

Behind him, his men moved silently, forming a wide arc around the entrance. They were seasoned warriors and mages, loyal not just by oath but by belief. Each of them could feel it too. The wrongness. The corruption clinging to this place.

“This isn’t ordinary dark magic,” Arlan said quietly, stepping beside him. “It’s ancient. Rooted. Like it was summoned and then… fed.”

Zander nodded once. “Cain never had the talent for this on his own.”

That realization sharpened his focus.

With a single gesture, Zander raised his hand. The aft trembled. Light flared. The protective barrier around the hideout cracked like glass, splintering outward before dissolving completely. A deep, guttural roar echoed from within.

And then chaos erupted.

Cain’s followers rushed out first, weapons drawn, eyes wild with desperation. They fought viciously, recklessly, as if they knew there would be no escape. Zander’s men met them head-on, spells and steel colliding in flashes of light and shadow.

The battle raged for hours.

Rett was the first to fall.

He emerged from the inner chamber roaring, his body warped by dark enchantments that twisted his limbs and eyes into something barely recognizable. He fought like a beast, unthinking, consumed by rage. But rage alone was never enough.

Zander faced him personally.

With calculated precision, he dismantled Rett’s defenses, unraveling the magic stitched into his flesh. One binding spell. One severing strike. Rett collapsed onto the stone floor, screaming as the dark magic abandoned him, leaving nothing but a broken man behind.

1/4

Cain lasted longer.

Much longer.

He stood at the heart of the hideout, surrounded by symbols carved into the ground in blood and ash. His eyes glowed an unnatural red as he hurled spell after spell, drawing power from something unseen. The mountain groaned under the strain.

Zander felt it then.

Something was answering Cain’s call.

“Where did you get this power?” Zander demanded, deflecting a blast of shadow with a flick of his wrist. “Who taught you?”

Cain only laughed, a sound cracked with madness. “You think I’d tell you? You think you deserve to know?”

Zander’s expression hardened. He struck. The fight between them shook the cavern. Light and darkness collided again and again, neither giving ground. But Cain was unraveling. His magic lashed wildly now, uncontrolled, tearing into the walls and ceiling. His breathing grew ragged.

By morning, it was over.

Cain lay shackled on the cavern floor, wrists bound with enchanted restraints that dulled his magic to a whisper. His followers were either dead, unconscious, or captured. The ancient symbols around him flickered and died, leaving the stone cold and empty.

Zander stood over him, unmarked, calm, eyes sharp.

“You built a pack,” Zander said flatly. “Not just followers. A true pack bonded through dark rites. Where?”

Cain turned his face away.

Silence.

Zander crouched, gripping Cain’s chin and forcing him to look up. “That kind of magic leaves scars on the land. It does not hide forever. Tell me where.”

Cain spat blood onto the stone. “I said nothing.”

Zander studied him for a long moment, then released him.

“Very well,” he said coolly. “We’ll find it without you.”

Cain laughed again, weaker this time. “You won’t matter soon anyway.”

Zander turned to leave, then paused as Cain’s voice rang out again, raw and desperate.

“I want to see my daughter.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

Zander slowly turned back.

2/4

“Althea,” Cain said firmly. “Bring her to me.”

Zander’s eyes darkened. “That is not your decision.”

“She is my daughter!” Cain shouted, straining against his restraints. “My blood. My flesh. You cannot deny that!”

Zander stepped closer, his voice dangerously calm. “She is not.”

Cain shook his head violently. “You’re lying. You’re all lying. She is mine!”

“For the Alpha King to decide,” Zander replied. “And for the truth to finish unraveling. Not you.’

Cain’s breathing turned erratic. “She must see me. She must hear me. She belongs to me!”

Zander straightened. “She belongs to no one.”

The denial broke something inside Cain.

He screamed, thrashing against the restraints, eyes blazing with delusion and refusal. “I raised her! I protected her! I gave her a name!”

“And you lied to her,” Zander said coldly. “You used her. You endangered her. And now you dare demand her presence?”

Cain fell silent, chest heaving.

The sun finally broke through the clouds, casting pale light into the ruined cavern.

Zander turned away.

“Bring them,” he ordered.

Chains rattled as Cain and the remaining prisoners were hauled to their feet. Rett was dragged behind them, barely conscious. Zander led the procession through a shimmering portal that opened at his command.

The palace courtyard was already awake when they arrived.

Uriel stood at the center, staff planted firmly against the stone, his expression the moment he caught sight of Cain. That man caused a lot of harm in their kingdom especially with his cousin Riela whom he loved as a sister.

Beta Simon and the royal guards flanked the traitor and his followers as whispers rippled through the gathered crowd.

When the portal closed and Zander stepped forward with Cain in chains, silence fell.

Uriel’s gaze locked onto Cain. “You will await judgment here.”

Cain lifted his head, eyes wild, still searching. “Where is the Alpha King? Is he enjoying the presence of my daughter that much that he’s absent in my presence? Was he already getting rusty letting others and even magic users to hunt me down instead of him doing so?” he mocked

Uriel did not answer.

3/4

Zander spoke instead. “He will come. And when he does, this ends.”

Cain’s shoulders sagged, yet his eyes still burned with stubborn denial. “Hah? You’re an outsider,” he scoffed hoarsely. “So don’t speak as if you know anything. Althea is my daughter.” He repeated it again, like a mantra, like a shield he could hide behind. “She won’t let you harm me.”

Zander stopped. Slowly, he turned back, his expression unreadable. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t even look angry. That calm was far worse. “You speak far too freely for someone in chains,” Zander said quietly.

With a subtle flick of his fingers, magic surged. Cain stiffened as invisible pressure wrapped around his body, crushing inward. Pain slammed into him all at once, sharp and unforgiving, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Cain cried out, collapsing to his knees as the magic forced him down, his muscles locking, his veins burning as if fire ran through them. The restraints glowed faintly, amplifying the spell, ensuring he could neither fight it nor escape it.

Zander stepped closer, his voice low and cold. “You do not speak her name as if you still have a right to it.”

Cain gasped, teeth clenched, sweat breaking across his brow as the pain pulsed through him in waves.

“Remember this,” Zander continued calmly. “The only reason you are still breathing is because judgment has not yet been passed. Test that patience again… and I won’t wait for the Alpha King.”

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210: No Arguments

The translucent dome shimmered softly at the center of the chamber, its surface alive with runes that pulsed in a steady rhythm. It arched over the bed where Princess Riela lay, enclosing her completely in a cocoon of protective magic.

Gavriel stood just outside its boundary.

His hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles white, his gaze fixed on the woman kneeling at the edge of the dome. Althea’s palms hovered inches from the glowing barrier, fingers trembling as she carefully aligned her energy with the spellwork embedded within it. One wrong push, one careless surge, and the dome would either shatter or reject her entirely.

Neither outcome was acceptable.

Inside the dome, Riela lay still, her breathing shallow but steady. Her skin held a faint grayish pallor, a lingering mark of the corruption that had taken root inside her. Thin lines of dark residue traced faintly beneath her skin, like shadows refusing to let go.

Queen Mother Wilma stood to Gavriel’s right, her hands clasped tightly before her chest. Her lips moved in silent prayer, eyes never leaving her daughter. Minister Marius remained beside her.

“Please,” Wilma whispered, voice barely audible. “Almighty… please.”

Althea closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. The dome reacted at once, its surface rippling like water disturbed by a breeze. She adjusted, lowering her energy output, syncing her pulse with the rhythm of the runes.

Gavriel felt it then.

The pull.

The familiar, terrifying sensation of her pushing herself too far.

Before he could speak, the air shifted behind him.

Zander stepped into the chamber, his focus immediately snapping to the dome.

“It’s done,” he said quietly to Gavriel. “Cain, Rett, and all remaining followers have been handed to Uriel. They’re secured. Waiting for your judgment.”

Gavriel nodded once. “Good.”

Zander’s gaze returned to Althea, noting the strain in her posture, the faint tremor in her shoulders. “She’s aligning correctly,” he observed. “But she’s forcing the breach too fast.”

“I want you to guide her,” Gavriel said without hesitation. “Make sure she finishes this safely.”

Zander inclined his head and approached the dome, careful not to cross the warded threshold. He knelt beside Althea, voice low and steady.

“Althea,” he said. “The dome isn’t your enemy. It’s your anchor. Let it carry some of the burden.”

Her lips parted as she took a shaky breath. “It’s resisting me.”

1/4

“Because the corruption recognizes you,” Zander replied. “You’re not just healing. You’re rewriting what doesn’t belong.”

Althea nodded faintly and shifted her hands, one pressing flat against the dome’s surface while the other hovered near her chest. Light bloomed beneath her palm, soft and warm, seeping into the dome like sunlight through glass.

Inside, Riela’s body stirred.

The dark residue beneath her skin reacted violently, writhing like something alive.

Althea gasped as pain shot through her arm, the backlash slamming into her chest. The dome flared, absorbing the worst of it, but the impact still rattled her to the core.

Gavriel stepped forward instinctively, stopping just short of the barrier. “Althea-”

“I’m fine,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “I just… need a moment.”

Zander’s eyes narrowed, impressed despite himself. “You’re adapting faster than most trained archmages.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t feel trained.”

“You don’t need to be,” he said. “You’re doing this on instinct. Trust it.”

The dome’s runes brightened as Althea adjusted her approach. Instead of pushing directly into the corruption, she let her magic flow around it, weaving through the protective lattice of the dome. Slowly, patiently, she began to unravel the dark spell strand by strand.

Riela cried out softly.

Wilma gasped, gripping Marius’s arm. “Riela!”

“It’s part of it,” Zander said calmly. “The spell is being uprooted.”

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours.

Sweat dampened Althea’s hairline. Her breathing grew uneven, her strength visibly waning. The dome flickered, reacting to the strain, but it held.

Then the corruption fought back.

A violent surge erupted inside the dome, dark energy slamming against the barrier. Althea cried out as the force rebounded, nearly knocking her backward.

“Althea!” Zander snapped. “Anchor yourself. Breathe.”

She pressed her forehead against the dome, eyes squeezed shut. “I won’t let it take her.”

And then something changed.

Her magic deepened.

It wasn’t louder. It wasn’t stronger in a destructive sense. It became steadier, heavier, filled with resolve. The light pouring from her palm softened, warming the dome from within rather than attacking it.

2/4

The corruption recoiled.

Inside the dome, the dark residue began to lift, peeling away from Riela’s body like smoke drawn upward. The runes burned bright white as the final strands shattered.

Riela arched once, gasping sharply-

Then she went still.

The light faded.

The dome dimmed, its runes settling into a dormant glow.

Althea sagged forward, exhaustion crashing over her. Gavriel caught her instantly as the dome dissolved, pulling her against his chest.

Riela breathed, a deep, steady breath. Color slowly returned to her cheeks.

Wilma let out a broken sob and rushed forward as the last remnants of the dome vanished. “Riela… my daughter

>>

Riela’s lashes fluttered open. “Mother?” she murmured.

Relief flooded the chamber.

Zander stared at Althea, genuine awe etched across his face. “You didn’t just heal her,” he said quietly. “You overrode an ancient corruption without breaking the containment spell.”

Gavriel barely heard him.

He cradled Althea close, his voice rough. “You did it.”

Gavriel did not let Althea walk on her own. He lifted her into his arms and when they reached the cottage, Gavriel carefully laid her on the bed. He adjusted the pillows, pulled the blanket over her, and made sure she was comfortable before stepping back. Only then did the tension in his shoulders ease slightly.

“You need to rest,” he said gently but firmly. “No arguments.”

Althea managed a small smile. “I wasn’t planning to argue.

His hand brushed her cheek, warm and steady. “I won’t be gone long,” he added. “There’s something I need to take care of.”

She caught his wrist before he could turn away. “Gavriel… be careful.”

His expression softened. “I will.”

He leaned down, pressed a brief kiss to her forehead, then forced himself to leave before he stayed longer. The door closed quietly behind him.

The room fell into silence.

Althea closed her eyes, intending to sleep, but her mind would not settle. Her body was exhausted, yet her thoughts kept drifting.

3/4

A soft knock came from the door.

“Come in,” she said.

Candice stepped inside, holding a small tray with water and herbs. She smiled, but it looked strained, like she was forcing herself to be calm. She set the tray down and stood beside the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Candice asked.

“Tired,” Althea replied honestly. “But I’ll be fine.”

Candice nodded, but her hands were clenched at her sides. She looked distracted, her eyes flickering toward the door as if she expected someone to appear.

Althea noticed immediately that something was wrong.

Without speaking, Althea reached out with her ability.

The moment she read Candice’s mind, words flooded in clearly, unfiltered.

‘Zander has already captured Cain. Uriel has him restrained. Gavriel finally went to face him. Should I go and witness it?’

Althea’s breath hitched as she suddenly pushed herself up from the bed.

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