Page 61 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

Those elders who'd been part of the assassination—I dealt with them personally. One by one, before the entire pack, I tore out their throats with my claws. Blood splattered across me, warm and sticky, reeking of iron. I watched the fear and pleading in their eyes and felt nothing.

But I knew the real masterminds went deeper. Others still hiding, evidence I couldn't find. They hid well—so well even a king was powerless.

More importantly, even if I killed them all, what would it change?

She wasn't coming back.

Another full moon arrived.

I hated full moons now. I used to love them—they were my most glorious moments as Alpha, leading my pack in sacred ritual. Now they were just reminders of what I'd lost.

I walked out of the castle alone, through that familiar woodland, toward the valley where we'd completed our howl.

Moonlight pooled on the ground, silver-white, cold as a blade. I'd walked this path for decades and could find it blindfolded. But now every step felt like walking on knife points.

Five years ago, I'd led my pack, howling at the sky. My voice rang out long and powerful, carrying to the far end of the valley, piercing clouds to reach the moon itself. The pack followed, hundreds of voices merging into a deafening chorus that made the earth tremble.

Back then, new fated mates found each other at the ceremony every year. Young couples held hands, gazing at each other in moonlight, eyes shining with happiness. I watched them, envious perhaps, but at least knowing—someday, I'd find mine too.

Then I found her.

Then I destroyed everything myself.

Now I stood in the valley, looking up at that full moon.

Moonlight fell on me, cold as ice.

I could feel my wolf stirring inside. Its claws scraped my ribs, throat releasing low whimpers—urging me on. It craved that howl more than I did. It still remembered the old days, remembered what it felt like to stand in moonlight and unleash all that power.

I took a deep breath and shifted.

Night wind filled my lungs, carrying scents of grass and earth. I closed my eyes, imagining how it used to be—standing here, chest full of strength, throat releasing a piercing howl that split the sky and echoed through the valley—

I opened my jaws.

Tried.

Tried so hard the veins in my neck bulged, so hard my whole body trembled, so hard I felt my vocal cords tearing—

Nothing.

No sound.

Just air escaping my throat like a deflating balloon, making a pitiful, barely audible rasp.

My wolf released a mournful cry inside me. Not anger, not frustration—something I'd never heard before, close to despair. It curled up, burying its head in its paws like a wounded animal.

Since Mia rejected me, my wolf couldn't howl.

I shifted back and dropped to my knees.

Knees slammed hard against the stone platform, but I felt no pain. Hands pressed to the ground, head down, watching moonlight cast my shadow—a kneeling, pathetic shadow.

Rustling sounds came from behind. I turned to see pack members standing not far away, watching me—watching me kneel, watching me bow my head, watching me produce no sound at all.

Their expressions.

Those looks cut sharper than any blade.