Claimed by My Bestie's Alpha Daddy novel Chapter 182

Richard

The fortress groaned above us like a living thing in its death throes, stone and steel buckling in protest as fire licked the support beams and smoke twisted through every crack and seam.

The walls vibrated with tension, and the air carried the scent of ash and blood. I shifted Amelia in my arms, tightening my hold on her limp frame as I ducked beneath a crumbling archway.

Her skin was warm against mine, flushed from the heat or from the exertion, I couldn’t tell which. Her hair clung to her damp face, and every few seconds she whimpered, her body twitching as if caught in some invisible struggle.

Behind us, the corridor flared with light and a sharp crack echoed through the stone as a ceiling beam gave way. The noise rattled in my skull like a shot, and I turned just in time to see Eldric draw his blade and pivot on his heel.

“Go,” he barked, not sparing me another glance. His coat was torn at the shoulder, soaked with someone else’s blood, and his left hand had gone limp at his side. Still, his voice held the same iron it always did.

“You’ll die,” I said, planting my feet. I wasn’t going to leave him there, not after everything, not when we were this close.He looked over his shoulder, his eyes locking on mine.

That was always the plan. Someone has to buy you time.

And you’re not the one bleeding out, not yet.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You are,” he said, and in that moment, he looked more like a general than lever had. He took one step back toward the flames. “You’re the king. Get her out. That’s the rule.”

“There are no rules left,” I said, voice tight, brittle with everything I couldn’t admit.

He gave a grim smile. “There are always rules. Even when they’re broken.”

Then he was gone, swallowed by fire and falling stone. His voice echoed behind us as the hallway twisted and buckled. “It was never Vasha. Not even Serena. The Lower Courts. Remember.”

I turned and ran, shifting Amelia higher in my arms, her head tucked against my collarbone. She was still breathing, but shallowly, her fingers twitching every so often as if caught in a nightmare. Her dress was half burned, clinging to her legs, and the skin beneath was raw and red. I could hear the fortress unraveling itself behind us, stone cracking, metal twisting, and the floor groaning beneath every footfall.

But when we reached the lower level, I froze. David was there.He stood in the tunnel’s mouth like he’d been sculpted from the smoke around him, flanked by two vampires in ceremonial armor, their swords gleaming and their expressions unreadable.

It hit me. He had been working with them.

The firelight caught the ash on his coat and the dried blood in his hair, painting him in bronze and red. He looked half dead and completely certain.

“You’re late,” he said, like this was just another appointment.

I didn’t ask how long he’d been waiting, or how he’d slipped past the flames. But I should have. The vampires at his side weren’t just last-minute reinforcements, they were part of the plan.

That was the part I hadn’t wanted to see. He hadn’t just turned in desperation. He’d been working with them for months, maybe longer, undermining every peace effort, feeding just enough doubt and chaos to keep me off batance while they built something better for themselves in the dark.

He’d been the knife at my back while I looked for enemies in front. Of course he’d gotten here first. He was always two steps ahead, because he’d helped design the board.

“You made your choice,” I said.

He shrugged. “Peace was a vanity project, Richard. Adistraction. You tried to build something doomed to collapse.”

He gestüred toward Amelia. “And she was the crack in the foundation.”

I lowered her gently against the wall and stepped in front of her, my blade drawn, my breath steady only because it had to be. She stirred slightly, her fingers curling inward, but her eyes didn’t open. I didn’t know if she could hear us.

I hoped she couldn’t.

“You’re not getting near her.”

David struck first. The clash of steel rang down the tunnel.

He was faster than I remembered, fueled by conviction or madness, maybe both. Every strike came harder than the last, and every block rattled through my shoulders. I was slower, worn thin, bleeding in places I hadn’t registered yet.

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