Runaway Pregnant Human Mate of the Alpha King (eBook)

Marked by Fate, Chased by the Crown

Devin Webster (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
134 Seiten
Publishdrive (Verlag)
978-0-00-112293-2 (ISBN)

Infos

When Nancy Middleton, a human servant with a hidden bloodline, discovers she is carrying the child of Alpha King Misael Ali, she runs-fleeing the palace and the prophecy that brands her unborn baby a threat to the crown. Every step she takes plunges her deeper into danger: rogue wolf packs hunt her, palace assassins lie in wait, and even the forest itself seems alive with unseen eyes.

Misael, torn between duty, desire, and the feral wolf within him, will burn kingdoms to bring her home-but the closer he gets, the more he realizes the true danger isn't her escape. It's the power growing inside her. As secrets unravel, loyalties fracture, and forbidden passion ignites, Nancy and Misael are forced to confront a shocking truth: the prophecy never warned of destruction-it foretold the rise of a king who is not the one on the throne.

In a world where love is dangerous, loyalty is tested, and destiny cannot be denied, one woman must protect her child, and one king must decide if he will risk everything... for love, family, and a throne that may not be his.

Textauszug

Chapter 4 — Whispers in the Woods

The forest pressed in around Nancy like a living entity. Each tree seemed to lean closer, roots coiling beneath the surface like the arms of a silent, watchful guardian—or predator. Rain-soaked leaves clung to her cloak, dripping cold onto her shoulders, and the scent of wet earth mingled with the faint, metallic tang of her own fear. Her stomach churned, protesting the abrupt motion and the ever-present nausea of pregnancy. Every step forward felt like an exertion, every branch snagging her cloak reminding her that the forest was alive, alert, and observing.

Nancy paused on a moss-covered rock, clutching her satchel tightly, and inhaled sharply. The night was not completely dark, moonlight filtering through gaps in the heavy canopy, illuminating the twisted trunks in silver streaks. Somewhere beyond the trees, the river she had been following gurgled like a secret, guiding her onward, but the noise seemed oddly muted, as though the forest itself conspired to keep her on edge.

Something moved.

Not a shape, not a sound quite tangible—just a shifting in the shadows that made her heart hammer like a drum. Nancy froze, her breath hitching. Her ears strained to catch even the faintest crack of a twig underfoot. The rogue scouts—the ones she could sense trailing her—were clever. Silent, patient, waiting for the perfect moment. She could feel their gaze, like invisible fingertips brushing along the back of her neck.

Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, feeling the tiny life that pulsed and shifted beneath her touch. Every instinct screamed caution, urging her to slow, to hide, to disappear completely. Yet the forest offered no real refuge. She had entered the enchanted borderlands, a place alive with whispers—old magic that didn’t discriminate between predator and prey, friend and foe. Nancy pressed herself against the side of a broad oak, listening.

The whispers came then, faint and sibilant, curling around her ears like smoke. Words she could not understand, a language older than any human court, older than the kingdom itself. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she realized the forest was speaking—not to her, perhaps, but of her. She was marked now, and the magic knew it.

A sudden shiver ran down her spine. She turned sharply, catching sight of movement—a flash of shadow slipping between the trees. Her pulse spiked, adrenaline slicing through the fatigue. Without hesitation, she pushed herself forward, ignoring the protests of her body, forcing her legs to carry her deeper into the maze of trees.

The rogue scouts had not revealed themselves, but she could sense them, feel the calculated patience in the air, the silent watching. They were not wolves; at least, not fully. Humans trained to hunt, to track, but their awareness felt heightened, unnatural. She stumbled over a protruding root, her satchel swinging violently against her side, and cursed under her breath. Each misstep could give her away, and each moment wasted allowed them to close in.

Rain began to drizzle again, light at first, then heavier, soaking her hair, dripping into her eyes, stinging as it ran down her cheeks. The forest transformed under the rain, each shadow deepening, each sound amplified—the snap of a branch, the splash of water from a distant stream, the rustle of leaves in the wind. Nancy fought the rising panic. Think. Focus. Survive.

Her breathing was ragged, but she forced it steady. She knew a clearing lay ahead, not far from the river bend, a place where she could rest, hide, and perhaps gather her strength. But the forest seemed endless, every turn repeating itself, every path leading deeper into uncertainty. The whispers followed, wrapping around her mind, reminding her of the prophecy she could barely comprehend: “The crown will bleed before it bends…”

Her thoughts flicked involuntarily to Misael. Silver-flecked eyes. Tall, commanding presence. The wolf. Her heart twisted at the memory of their stolen moments, the warmth of his hands, the intensity of his gaze. She had left him to protect the child, but now, deep in these cursed woods, she couldn’t shake the longing, the ache that lingered in her chest. He would find her. She knew it. Somehow, she felt his presence even without seeing him. And yet… he could not be here. Not yet. Not while she carried a secret he was not ready to face.

A branch cracked sharply behind her. Nancy spun, heart in her throat, and caught a glimpse of movement—figures slipping between the trees, careful to remain unseen, yet unmistakably tracking her. She knew immediately who they were. Rogue scouts. Her pulse jumped, adrenaline flaring, and she bolted, weaving through the trunks, leaping over roots, her satchel dragging against her side. The forest seemed alive now, conspiring both for and against her.

She stumbled into a narrow path near the river, and the mud sucked at her boots, slowing her progress. Her stomach clenched, nausea rising, but she could not stop. She could not let them corner her, not while she carried the child. Every breath was sharp, her legs aching, but determination kept her moving. I’ll keep you safe, she whispered again, clutching her stomach. The words were a lifeline, a promise she would not break.

The scouts’ presence was closer now. She could sense their patience snapping into action. Shadows leaped ahead, aiming to encircle her. Nancy’s mind raced. She needed to find the hidden ravine her grandmother had once whispered about—a narrow, rocky gorge that could conceal her, even from hunters trained in tracking. It was the only advantage she had in this forest.

The whispers of the forest seemed to guide her, urging her forward, pointing toward narrow trails overgrown with thorns and brambles. She stumbled through a tangle of roots and undergrowth, rain soaking her cloak, her boots heavy with mud. Her breathing was uneven, ragged, yet her resolve only hardened. She could feel the child inside her stirring, reacting to the fear and urgency in her heartbeat. It was as if the unborn life was alive in more ways than one, attuned to the danger that pressed close.

A sudden movement to her left—a shadow darting among the trees—made her heart lurch. A figure stepped briefly into the moonlight, and Nancy caught a flash of recognition. Not Misael, but someone else. A rogue, cloaked and silent, with eyes that gleamed with calculation. He made no sound, not even a footfall, yet she felt his presence like a knife against her spine.

Nancy veered sharply, turning her momentum into the dense brush, brambles tearing at her cloak and scratching her arms. Pain flared, sharp and hot, but she ignored it, letting instinct guide her through the forest. Her fingers scraped against tree bark, pulling herself up over slippery roots, boots sinking into mud, until she finally reached a narrow gorge, a slit between jagged rocks and dense foliage.

She dropped to her knees, gasping, and crouched low, pressing her body against the rock wall. Her cloak was torn, her hair plastered to her face, but she was alive—and for the moment, hidden. The rogue scouts passed nearby, their whispers low, their presence palpable but not intrusive enough to find her. Nancy held her breath, counting silently until their footsteps faded.

Finally, she allowed herself a trembling sigh. Her back pressed against the cold stone, and she pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling the tiny life pulse beneath her fingers. She whispered a vow again, softer this time, more intimate: I’ll keep you safe. I swear it. The child stirred as if acknowledging the promise, and Nancy felt a flicker of hope in the midst of fear.

But hope was fragile. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig reminded her that danger was never far behind. The rogue scouts would not give up. They were clever, patient, and relentless. And somewhere in the world beyond the trees, Misael was already moving, searching, the wolf inside him sensing the mate that had vanished from his bed.

The forest seemed to breathe around her, alive with secrets and shadows, each step forward both a threat and a potential salvation. Nancy’s mind raced, calculating the next move, searching for hidden paths, recalling the stories of hidden shelters her grandmother had whispered of long ago. Each memory was a lifeline, each instinct a weapon.

She rose slowly, pressing herself against the jagged rocks of the ravine, peering through the gaps at the moonlit forest. Somewhere ahead lay the enchanted borderlands, a place where magic lingered, dangerous yet protective. She would have to navigate it, avoid patrols, avoid the scouts, and find a place to rest before exhaustion overtook her.

And above all, she could not allow herself to be caught. Not by scouts, not by rogue wolves, not by anyone. The child she carried depended on it. Her determination hardened like steel within her chest, each heartbeat echoing with a single, unwavering truth: survival, at any cost.

The forest whispered again, secrets brushing against her ears, guiding her deeper into shadows and away from the hunters. Nancy forced herself forward, each step a careful negotiation between courage and exhaustion, fear and hope. Somewhere in the darkness, the rogue scouts paused, sensing her trail but unable to see her hidden form.

For the first time since leaving the palace, Nancy allowed herself a fleeting thought of strategy. She needed allies—someone who knew the forest better than the hunters, someone who could help her escape without being discovered. The memory of a hermit witch her grandmother had once mentioned flickered in her mind. Perhaps Kassidy Chan, rumored to aid fugitives and heal the wounded, could...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 9.12.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• ISBN-10: 0-00-112293-2 / 0001122932
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-112293-2 / 9780001122932