The Alpha King’s Stolen Daughter Chapter 02

The Alpha King’s Stolen Daughter Chapter 02 — Ember
“Good morning, sir. I’m Ember Lyall Vale. I’ll be guiding you through the property today.”

He didn’t take my hand.

He stared at me the way you stare at a ghost that just handed you a clipboard.

“Say that again,” he said.

“…Ember Lyall Vale.”

“Your middle name.”

“Lyall.” My stomach dropped. “Sir, is there a problem with my—”

“No.” His jaw worked. “No problem.”

But he kept looking. All morning, he kept looking. Through the kitchens, through the west wing renovation, through the numbers I’d spent three nights memorizing. I talked. He watched my face like he was reading something written on it.

Twice, he leaned in slightly and inhaled, which wolves do when a scent doesn’t make sense, and then his eyes got even darker.

I kept my voice level and my hands folded and my back straight, even though standing straight is the single most painful thing I do all day.

“You’re in pain,” he said suddenly, outside the manager’s office.

“Bad night’s sleep, sir.”

“That’s not what pain like that is.”

“It’s a lodge, sir. We lift things.”

He didn’t push. He just made a small sound, like a man filing something away for later, and I felt cold all the way down.

Then, at the end, right before the last meeting, he asked it.

“Do you know a man named Lyall Draven?”

I laughed. Actually laughed — the first time in probably a month. “My father, obviously.”

I meant it as a joke. Lyall is my middle name and nobody would give a child a name like that unless it belonged to someone. It’s the only piece of my father I’ve ever owned.

He stopped walking.

I got three steps before I realized I was alone in the hallway, and when I turned around, Kade Ashborne was standing very still, staring at me like I’d just confessed to murder.

Panic hit me so fast my vision went white at the edges. Stupid. Stupid. You don’t joke with an Alpha heir. You don’t joke with the man who owns your paycheck, your pack’s contracts, the roof over your dying brother’s head.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” I dropped my eyes and bowed my head. “It was inappropriate. People assume my middle name is a family name and I—”

“Ember.”

“—I’ll request a replacement guide, I don’t want to affect the contract, please don’t—”

“Ember.”

I shut my mouth.

He crossed the hallway. Stopped an arm’s length away, which for a wolf is nothing and for me was too close, and I flinched before I could stop it. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

“Do you know who Lyall Draven is?” he asked quietly.

“No, sir.”

“Do you have any idea how much you look like him?”

The floor tilted.

“I don’t know who that is,” I whispered.

“He’s the Alpha King of the Northern Territories,” Kade said. “He has five sons. He’s had my family’s loyalty since before I was born. And you have his eyes, his mouth, his jawline, and a scent underneath all that silver that shouldn’t exist on a girl with no wolf.”

“Silver?”

“You reek of it.” His voice had gone flat and terrible. “Someone has been putting silver on you. Regularly. For years.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“Sir, I have to get back to the desk—”

“What is your mother’s name?”

“Selene.” My mouth was dry. “Selene Vale. She died.”

Something moved behind his eyes. Something enormous.

“When?” he said.

“Six years ago. Brain bleed. Please, sir, my shift—”

“Go,” he said. “Go back to your desk, Ember.”

I went. I filed reports with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking, and when I looked out the window an hour later his car was still in the lot, and he was standing beside it on the phone, and even at that distance I could see he was shouting.

I told myself it was nothing.

I told myself all the way home, walking slow because of the ribs, that a man like that forgets a receptionist by dinner.

Then I turned the last corner onto my street.

And the whole block was drowning in flashing blue and red.

My mind went straight to Milo. Straight to a small body under a sheet.

I ran on a broken rib. I didn’t feel it.