Page 96 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

They raised their heads toward the moon and began to howl.

That sound—

My eyes burned.

Five years. Five years since I'd heard this. Those howls wove together—high-pitched, deep, long, short—like a primal, earth-shaking symphony that shook the entire valley, pierced the clouds, reached straight to the moon.

And Mia's voice, like a silver thread, wove through that tapestry of howls, binding them together, guiding them, keeping them from scattering.

I saw a young wolf and a girl in the crowd stop howling at the same moment and lock eyes. That look—like the whole world disappeared, leaving only each other. They walked toward one another, paws touching, releasing low whimpers.

Fated mates.

They'd found each other.

Then a second pair. A third. A fourth.

The entire square became one massive, living, breathing miracle. Moonlight spilled across the ground, silver-white brilliance spreading like water, drowning everyone.

And me—

I stood beside the Ancestor Stone, watching it all, feeling my heart ready to burst from my chest.

My wolf growled inside, struggling, wanting to join that chorus of howls. I opened my mouth, tried to make a sound—

Nothing.

My throat remained that familiar emptiness, like a dried-up well.

My wolf released a mournful whine and curled up.

But it didn't matter.

Tonight's star wasn't me. It was her.

Mia's song lasted the entire night.

When dawn's first light appeared on the horizon, her voice finally lowered, dissolving into a long sigh that vanished in the morning breeze.

The square fell silent.

Then—applause and cheers erupted like a tsunami.

People surged toward the stage, wanting to touch her, to thank her, to kiss the hem of her dress. My guards had to form a human wall around her to keep the frenzied crowd from swallowing her whole.

She stood on the stage, breathing slightly hard, face somewhat pale, but her eyes shone like two stars in the morning light.

I looked at her, feeling something churn in my chest.

Pride. Regret. Love. Pain. All of it mixed together into an emotion that made my throat tight.

She'd done it.

She'd done what I couldn't.

After the ceremony ended, I found her in the garden.

She sat on a stone bench by the fountain, holding a cup of water, watching koi swim in the pool. Lily chased a butterfly nearby, her laughter echoing in the morning light.