Page 115 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

"You've served your own ambition for forty years," I cut him off. "You just used 'the kingdom' as an excuse to hide your greed and cruelty."

I turned away, done looking at him.

"Keep him locked up. When Zane recovers, public trial. I want everyone to know what he did."

I walked out of the dungeon, footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Sunlight made me squint. I stood at the dungeon entrance, breathed deep, feeling years of accumulated poison finally draining from my chest.

Revenge complete.

I thought I'd feel satisfied. Thought I'd feel free. But standing in the sunlight, I only felt hollow exhaustion—like I'd run a marathon, crossed the finish line, only to find nothing there. Just an empty, silent void.

My parents wouldn't come back. Those lost years wouldn't return. Those days in the orphanage being mocked and excluded, those days in the palace being used as a tool, having my dignity trampled—they were gone, unchangeable, irreparable.

I stood there, eyes burning.

Then I felt a small hand grab my finger.

I looked down.

Lily stood beside me, looking up with those gray-blue eyes full of seriousness beyond her years.

"Mommy, are you crying?"

I quickly wiped my eyes, crouched down, and forced a smile. "No, sweetheart. Mommy just—got sand in her eyes."

She didn't call me out. Just reached up with her small, warm hand and gently touched my face.

"Mommy, don't be sad," she said, voice serious as a royal decree. "Lily is here. I will always stay with Mommy."

Something slammed hard into my heart.

I hugged her, buried my face in her small shoulder, breathed in that faint sweet scent from her hair, feeling those empty places slowly filling up.

The next few days, a strange atmosphere hung over the palace.

News of Alden's arrest exploded like a bomb, sending shockwaves through the kingdom. Some were shocked, some furious, some couldn't believe that respected elder had done such things. But the evidence was solid—truths buried for years were finally dug up, exposed to daylight.

Zane's recovery was faster than expected. Werewolf healing really was impressive—by the third day, he could get out of bed; by the fifth, he was back in his study handling paperwork. Sure, he couldn't do anything strenuous, his chest wound still needed changing, but he was sick of lying in bed.

And Lily—well, Lily was completely smitten.

Since Zane got hurt, she reported to his room at least three times a day. Morning visits with carefully chosen "comfort gifts"—sometimes a flower from the garden, sometimes one of her drawings, sometimes a piece of chocolate she couldn't bear to eat. Lunch visits to supervise his eating—"Zane, you have to eat more meat so you can get better fast!" And bedtime visits for a goodnight kiss before running back to her room satisfied.

I stood in the doorway watching Zane sit on the bed, storybook spread across his lap, Lily sprawled beside him listening intently. His voice was still weak, but he read with feeling, changing his tone for different characters, making Lily giggle.

Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing them in golden light.

That scene—that damn, heartwarming scene—made something in my chest ache.

Zane looked up and saw me.

His gaze rested on my face for a second, then his lips curved into a gentle smile—not that kingly, polite smile, but something real, unguarded.

"Mommy!" Lily jumped off the bed, ran to me, and grabbed my hand. "Zane is reading Winnie-the-Pooh! It's so good! Mommy, come listen too!"

She pulled me to the bed. Zane shifted over, making room.