Page 58 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

Metal clashing. Men shouting. And—

A muffled groan.

My body reacted faster than my brain. I reined the horse, jumped down, drew my sword, and charged toward the sound.

Under the moonlight, chaos.

The shattered carriage lay overturned by the roadside, horses down in pools of blood. Several black-clad figures surrounded a slight form, blades gleaming in the moonlight.

And she—Mia—stood at the cliff's edge, clutching a rock, glaring at them like a cornered beast. Her skirt was torn, blood flowing from a wound on her arm, hair disheveled over her shoulders.

But she didn't back down.

"Get back!" I roared, sword raised, charging in.

The attackers clearly hadn't expected anyone. They turned, saw my sword and the undisguised killing intent in my eyes, and hesitated for an instant.

That instant was enough.

My blade slashed the first man's throat, warm liquid splashing my face. The second didn't raise his weapon before my kick sent him flying into a tree trunk with a thud.

The remaining men looked at their fallen comrades, then at me, then turned and fled into the forest.

I stood there, breathing hard, sword still dripping blood. I turned toward Mia—

Then the rock beneath her foot gave way.

Her body lurched, arms flailing for anything to grab. I reached for her, but my fingertips only grazed her sleeve—

She fell.

"Mia!"

I lunged to the cliff's edge, heart nearly stopping. In the moonlight, I saw she hadn't fallen straight down—one hand desperately gripped a branch jutting from the rock face, her whole body suspended in midair, rushing river below.

The branch creaked.

"Give me your hand!" I lay flat, reaching down as far as I could. "Quick, give me your hand!"

She looked up at me.

Those eyes—those eyes that had once shone like stars in moonlight—held no joy now, no relief, no "you came to save me" gratitude.

Only a cold, complete, stranger-viewing calm.

That calm frightened me more than any anger.

"Mia, hurry!" My voice shook, I could hear the branch splintering louder. "Give me your hand, I'll pull you up!"

She didn't move.

She just looked at me with those terrifyingly calm eyes.

"I know the truth," I nearly shouted, voice so hoarse I didn't recognize it. "You wrote those songs. Leah deceived me—she stole everything from you. I... I was wrong. I shouldn't have doubted you. I shouldn't have—"

I stopped, took a deep breath, and felt my eyes burning.

"Please. Give me your hand. Let me make this right."