Page 12 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

The witch.

She appeared in my room like smoke slipping through the door crack. She looked ancient, face lined like cracked riverbed, but her eyes burned bright as black obsidian.

"Hello, Mia Turner," she said, voice rough as sandpaper on wood. "I'm Morgana, a witch from the Silverthread Kingdom."

I watched her warily. Didn't speak—of course, I couldn't.

She smiled and sat in the chair by my bed. "No need to be nervous. I'm here to answer your questions."

She raised one gnarled finger and traced a circle in the air. Silver light flowed from her fingertip, forming a thin line that drifted toward me and wrapped around my wrist.

"You and His Majesty are fated mates," she said matter-of-factly. "The Moon Goddess tied the silver thread herself."

I froze.

Fated mates.

The words exploded in my head like fireworks. I'd always known every werewolf had a fated mate—the other half the Moon Goddess chose at birth, your soul's destination, destined love. But I never dared hope I'd have one. A mute who couldn't even howl—why would the Moon Goddess favor me?

But she was telling me I was the king's fated mate.

The man who danced with me in the moonlight, with those gray-blue eyes and that devastating smile, who made my heart race and my breath catch and kept me up all night—he was mine.

The witch seemed to read my thoughts, tracing her bony finger through the air again. "Usually, werewolves in the Moonhowl Kingdom confirm each other through the Howling Ceremony. Their voices resonate, their souls form an initial bond. But you... can't howl. So I suspect that's why you and His Majesty haven't sensed each other's presence, why your wolves don't recognize each other. But the silver thread doesn't lie. It transcends voice and perception, revealing fate's truth directly."

I covered my mouth. Tears spilled without warning.

The witch watched me, pity in her eyes.

I didn't care about the pity. I gestured urgently: What about him? Does he know?

"He knows," the witch said. "But he's... not pleased."

My hands stopped moving.

The witch was brutally direct. "After all, you're mute. In the Moonhowl Kingdom, where howling is sacred, a Luna who can't make a sound will be seen as... a desecration of tradition. A public humiliation. This isn't about you personally, child. The rules of this land are too rigid."

I felt like someone had dumped ice water on my heart.

But it's fine. I told myself. I'll show him. I'll prove that even though I can't speak, I have other strengths. I'll prove I'm worthy of him.

I wiped my tears and gave the witch a determined smile.

She looked at me and sighed, standing up. "Good luck, girl. You'll need it."

She left, trailing the smell of sulfur and herbs.

On the morning of the fourth day, the guard finally brought the news I'd been waiting for.

"His Majesty will see you now," he said, respectful but cold. "Follow me."

My heart kicked into overdrive. I quickly fixed my hair, smoothed my plain white dress—the only decent thing I owned—took a deep breath, and followed him out.

The palace corridors stretched endlessly. Huge oil paintings lined the walls—former kings and queens in magnificent clothes and glittering crowns, eyes proud and cold, looking down on me, the intruder. I kept my head down, not daring to look too long, feeling those painted eyes mocking me.

We stopped at a massive wooden door. The guard gestured. I raised my hand to push it open, but voices filtered through.

"...the foreign delegation arrives in two days," an elderly voice said, low and serious. "They heard Your Majesty found your fated mate and came specifically to offer congratulations. This is an excellent opportunity to demonstrate our kingdom's strength, but..." He paused meaningfully, glancing at the man by the window. "Forgive my bluntness, Your Majesty, but your fated mate is entirely unsuitable for such an occasion."