Claimed by My Bestie's Alpha Daddy novel Chapter 119

Nathan and I crouched on the marble floor of the council chamber, sheets of parchment spread between us. The chalk sigils looked faint under the lamplight, but when I pressed the paper over them and rubbed with charcoal, the shapes leapt out bold and black. A circle broken by hooked slashes. Angled lines that made my stomach twist the longer I stared. Nathan studied the rubbings with the concentration of a soldier scanning a battlefietd. To me it felt like looking at a language that wasn’t meant for conscious eyes.

An assistant, Mira, lingered near the doorway, her arms locked tight around her waist. When I caught her gaze she flinched, then said in a rush, “I’ve seen those before. Out by the service road. Carved into trees. I thought it was just old graffiti.”

Nathan straightened, eyes sharp. “When?”

“Last week. Early morning. I was on watch and spotted them on two birches by the bend.” Her voice dropped. “They looked newer than I wanted to admit.”

I felt Richard behind me before he spoke. “Why didn’t you report it then?”

Mira flinched again, shoulders tightening. “I thought it was nothing. I was wrong.”

His silence after that was louder than any reprimand. The tension between us had already started, and it followed into the next day.

We were in the woods at dawn. Fog hung low, muting sound, turning every tree into a looming figure. Mira led us to the spot, and sure enough the marks were there, cut deep into bark. Hardened wax pooled at the roots, pale against the soil. Boot prints scarred the earth, leading toward the service road. Whoever had gathered here hadn’t been gone long.Nathan crouched, brushing the dirt with his fingers. “At least three people. Heavy steps. They lingered.”

Richard’s eyes flicked to me. “You see why secrecy matters?”

I crouched beside the wax. “You see why it doesn’t. If Mira had felt she could speak freely, we would’ve been here days ago.”

We stared at each other until Nathan cleared his throat and stood, holding up the parchment rubbing. “The same patterns. No doubt.”

Later that morning I found Darius with a handful of guards in a damaged hallway. He tapped a loose stone against the wall in a steady rhythm. “Hear that?” he asked, tilting his head. “Hollow. Means there’s a void behind the mortar. If you check every wall this way, you’ll know which ones are safe before you bed anyone down there.”

The guards nodded, impressed. I found myself nodding too. Thanks.

– That’s actually useful.”

His grin flashed. “Any time.”

From across the hall Richard spoke at last. “Don’t mistake tricks for loyalty.” His tone was smooth, but the warning underneath was clear.

The men glanced between them, awkward. My pulse quickened.

By midday the kitchens were chaos. A cook collapsed while tasting the broth, then another doubled over with cramps. Simon hauled them onto benches, barking orders for water and herbs. He grabbed a ladle and stirred the pot, then cursed under his breath. The smell hit me next, briny, metallic. He lifted the ladle and metal shavings gleamed in the salt. “This was deliberate,” he said grimly.

Monroe burst in with a stack of papers dripping water. Ink bled into black stains. “The invoices for the salt delivery. Someone drowned the records before we ever saw them.” Her voice was flat with anger.” That’s not an accident. That’s cover-up.”Before anyone could speak, a guard reported three security cameras. had gone dark during the delivery. The words dropped like stones into a still pond.

Richard slammed his palm onto the nearest table. “Three cameras out at once? While poison wätked into our stores? That isn’t misfortune.

That’s failure.” His voice cracked through the air, making guards flinch.

I stepped in before the storm could break further. “Enough shouting,” I said sharply. “We need solutions, not fear.”

Then, turning to the staff huddled together, I felt myself soften.” Simon’s tending to the sick. The rest of the supplies will be checked before a single grain reaches your pots. You’re safe here. We’ll get through this.”

A cook with burn scars along her arms raised her hand. “I saw a man carrying keys last night. A big ring, heavy. I didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t one of us.”

“Did you see his face?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Just the keys.”

I wrote it down even as my stomach knotted. Richard leaned closer to glance at my notes, his breath tight. “This is exactly why control matters. Keys don’t walk into our halls unless someone allows them.”

At dinner, tension clung to the council like smoke. Richard sat at the head of the table, posture rigid, every gesture sharp. The conversation was brittle, half-started, then abandoned. When the plates were cleared, I leaned toward him.

“Nathan and Mira need to be fully briefed on whatever it is you’ve found out,” I said. “They’ve seen things that matter. Keeping them in the dark makes us weaker.”

Richard’s gaze cut to me.

“The more people who know classified information, the greater the risk of leaks. Nathan, fine, but we restrist information until we’re certain who to trust.”

“That’s how you choke your allies,” I shot back, low but firm. “You keep talking about trust while you hoard it until no one can breathe. They’re already bleeding for us, Richard. You can’t keep treating them like they’re expendable.”

“You think I don’t bleed for them?” His voice had steel in it now, quiet but deadly. “You think the crown makes me less real than you?”

– I bit back the first reply that came to me. “Sometimes I think it makes you forget you are.”

His jaw locked, and for a moment I thought he’d break. Instead he looked away, leaving silence as the final word. The space between us felt colder than a fight.

That night I finally slipped into uneasy sleep, only to fall into a dream that tasted of ash. A massive wolf stood before a wall of stone, claws carving the same sigil again and again, sparks flying with each strike.

The sound was a warning I could feel in my bones. I jerked awake, breath shallow.

Light bled faintly through the crack under my door. Movement in the hall caught my eye. Richard leaned against the far wall, arms folded, eyes shadowed with the same exhaustion I felt. He wasn’t sleeping either.

I opened the door quietly. For a moment we just stared at each other.

Then I stepped closer, and he didn’t move away.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I whispered.

“Didn’t want to.” His voice was rougher than I expected.

His hand brushed my arm, then lingered at my elbow. I pressed my palm against his chest, felt the solid rhythm of his heart under my hand. He caught my wrist lightly to keep me there. My throat tightened like I might cry. We’d fought all day, but standing there in the dim light, I knew nothing could keep me from him.

His fingers threaded briefly through mine, his thumb brushing my knuckle. I almost leaned in, and for a second it felt like he would too.

But he let go, stepping back as though afraid of what would happen if he didn’t. The space between us hummed with everything we weren’t saying, everything we still wanted.

The idea clawed into me, too vivid to ignore.

That evening, Richard intercepted me in the corridor. The lamps cast him in pale light, blue-gray eyes unreadable. “Callen Rusk isn’t what he seems.”

I folded my arms. “And what exactly do you think he seems?”

“Charming, supportive, convenient. You can’t lean on men like him,

Amelia. Not if you mean to stand as Luna.”

The warning scraped raw against the flicker of pride I still carried from the meeting. “So I’m supposed to rely on you alone? Pretend I have no mind of my own?”

His voice sharpened. “That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you meant.” I moved past him before the words could curdlefurther, pulse drumming in my throat.

“Amelia,” he called after me, voice low. “If you’re going to challenge me, don’t do it where they can see the cracks.”

I didn’t look back. “Then stop giving them cracks to see.”

Nathan’s discovery came the next morning. A whistle tucked into a radiator, disguised as rusted scrap. He held it up for me to see, thin and gleaming. “Not an ordinary one. Tuned low enough you’d feel it more than hear it. A call signal. Could summon without detection.”

Every new secret made the Pack House feel smaller, its walls closing tighter.

Mira sought me out that night, slipping a sketchbook into my hands.

On the page, charcoal lines formed a cloaked figure, shoulders broad, gait distinct. “I saw him near the east hall,” she whispered. “The frame looked like Callen.”

I traced the smudged lines with my thumb. “You’re sure?”

“I can’t bring myself to believe it, but I know what I saw.”

Her eyes searched mine, uncertain, before softening. “You know, I look up to you. Everyone thinks you’re just trying to survive, but… you’re doing more than that. You’re leading. You walk into rooms where people dismiss you and somehow they leave listening. You treat staff like they matter and they follow you because of it. You hold yourself together when the rest of us would totally freak out. I don’t think you realize how rare that is.”

The words pressed into me harder than the dust or the ash or even the explosion. I’d spent so long trying not to drown, I hadn’t seen that anyone else was watching me swim.

I closed the sketchbook and pulled her into a brief embrace. “I’m not sure I deserve that. But thank you.”Mira squeezed once before pulling back, her expression steady.” Deserve’s got nothing to do with it. People are watching, Amelia.

Whether you want them to or not.”

Her words lingered, long after she left, louder than the echoes in the ruined halls, louder even than the whistle hidden in the radiator. I lay awake that night with the weight of them, wondering if Richard heard the same things and feared what they meant for both of us.