Alpha's Secret Bride

Ashley returned home after the council meeting, his expression thoughtful as he stepped into the villa. Emma was waiting for him on the balcony, and she turned as soon as she heard him approach.

"Father," she called. "How did it go?"

Ashley joined her and rested his hands on the balcony railing. "You were right. Samuel has made his move. He’s pushing for the throne, and some of the elders are already supporting him."

Emma frowned. "I’m sure he must have bribed them."

"He may have. Either way, he’s making enough progress that we can afford to ignore him for now."

Emma looked at him carefully. "Then what do we do?"

Ashley turned toward her. "You give him what he wants."

Emma’s eyes widened. "Father?"

"The throne is part of the plan. Let Samuel believe he’s won. Once he has it, we’ll give him enough room to expose himself. When everything he’s done comes to light, he’ll lose the very crown he fought so hard to claim."

He gently patted Emma’s shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile.

"You’re doing well."

__

The kingdom changed within one month.

The warmth that had once filled the streets of Santorini faded beneath the presence of armed soldiers. Black-uniformed royal guards stood at the entrances to major markets, outside government buildings, and along the roads leading into the capital. Patrols moved through the busier streets with rifles resting against their shoulders, stopping anyone who drew their attention for too long.

Conversations ended whenever a patrol came near. Shopkeepers lowered their voices, and people who once gathered in the markets until moonfall now hurried home before the streets emptied.

From the palace balcony, Samuel looked down at the capital below. The streets were quieter than they had been before his rise to the throne.

With Samuel now controlling the Royal Palace, Luna Alexandra returned to Greendor Castle, the residence King Eldric had gifted Brandon winters earlier. She took only the servants and guards she trusted most, leaving behind anyone whose loyalty she could not be certain of.

While Samuel settled into the palace he had taken by force, Greendor Castle became a quiet refuge for Luna Alexandra and those who remained loyal to the Frostbane family.

"Order has finally been restored," Samuel said.

Minister Roland stood a few steps behind him, his hands clasped in front of his body. "Reports indicate that some citizens still refuse to recognize you as the rightful king."

Samuel turned his head. "Who?"

"Several merchants in the eastern district. There are also families in the northern villages refusing to display the royal crest."

Samuel’s gaze returned to the streets below. "Then teach them the cost of defiance."

Roland lowered his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

By moonfall, royal guards were moving through the capital with orders to arrest anyone accused of openly insulting the crown or encouraging resistance. Those taken away were given no opportunity to defend themselves before being locked inside the palace detention cells.

New taxes followed soon after. Merchants were ordered to pay additional levies on their goods, farmers faced higher charges on their land and harvests, and small businesses were hit with new fees under the claim that the kingdom needed more money to strengthen national security after King Eldric’s death.

At first, shopkeepers tried to absorb the extra costs. Within days, they began raising their prices. Customers bought less. Shelves stayed full because fewer people could afford what was on them.

In the eastern market, one elderly merchant stood behind his stall with a tax notice trembling between his fingers.

"I already paid for the last moonfall," he pleaded as the royal tax collector checked the figures on his tablet. "If you take this much again, I won’t have enough left to buy supplies."

The collector held out his hand.

"Payment is due today."

The old man looked at the nearly empty shelves behind him, then back at the notice.

"My family depends on this stall."

The collector’s expression did not change. "Then you should have planned for the new tax."

He reached across the counter and took the money the merchant had reluctantly placed there.

The old man watched him walk away, his fingers closing around the edge of the counter as another stall across the market pulled down its shutters.

By the end of the week, several businesses had closed.

The palace treasury filled.

The markets emptied.

"My lord, I already paid this month’s taxes. I don’t have anything left."

The officer glanced over the nearly empty stall and then at the tax notice in his hand.

"The Alpha King has introduced an emergency tax."

"I can’t pay another one." The merchant shook his head and held both hands against the counter. "Please. I’ve barely sold enough to feed my family."

The officer looked toward the two soldiers standing behind him. "Confiscate the goods."

The merchant stepped around the counter. "Please, don’t. My grandpups depend on this shop."

One of the soldiers moved toward the stall.

When the merchant grabbed his arm, the soldier shoved him away. He stumbled backward and fell hard against the pavement. The baskets beside him tipped over, sending fruit rolling across the street.

A few shoppers stopped.

The merchant pushed himself onto one elbow and reached for a basket, but the soldiers were already gathering the remaining goods. One woman started toward him before her companion caught her arm and pulled her back.

"Don’t," the man whispered.

She lowered her eyes and kept walking.

Across the kingdom, similar scenes unfolded. Farmers lost portions of their harvests when they could not meet the new taxes. Merchants watched soldiers carry away goods from their stalls, while families began cutting meals down to whatever they could afford.

Inside the Greendor castle, Queen Alexandra sat behind her desk with a growing stack of reports in front of her.

She opened one letter, read it, and placed it beside the others.

A farmer had been imprisoned after refusing to pay a tax that was more than he could afford. A journalist had disappeared days after publicly questioning Samuel’s policies. A former royal guard had been sentenced to life in a dungeon after refusing to swear allegiance to the new king.

Alexandra lowered the letter onto the desk and rubbed her forehead.

A soft knock came at the door.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Captain Victor stepped inside. He glanced down the corridor before closing it behind him.

"The chamber is secure, Your Highness."

Alexandra waited until he reached the desk. "What have you learned?"

Victor placed a thick folder in front of her.

"Our investigators have confirmed that Samuel has replaced nearly every senior military commander with men loyal to him. The courts are no longer operating independently, either. Several judges who ruled against his orders have disappeared."

Alexandra opened the folder.

Names filled the first page.

She turned to the next.

Dates. Bank transfers. Property records.

Then she stopped.

Several payments had been made to senior officials in the weeks before King Eldric’s death.

Alexandra ran her finger down the list, then looked up at Victor.

"These payments were made before the king died?"

Victor nodded. "Yes."

She turned another page.

The same names appeared again, this time beside larger sums.

Alexandra closed the folder slowly, her hand remaining on its cover.

"Samuel was preparing for this long before he took the throne."

Samuel’s network reached deeper than Alexandra had feared.

"We still don’t have enough to expose him," Victor said, closing the folder.

Alexandra kept her hand on the cover for a moment before looking up. "No. Not yet."

She pushed the folder back toward him. "But every piece brings us closer."

Far from the capital, quiet resistance was beginning to take shape.

Former soldiers met in abandoned barns after moonfall, usually in pairs or small groups. They came separately, stayed only long enough to exchange information, and left before anyone could notice a pattern. Village elders passed messages through trusted neighbors, hiding them inside sacks of grain or beneath bundles of firewood when royal patrols came through.

In some villages, families left extra food outside their doors for those who had lost their farms. Healers quietly shared medicine with families who could no longer afford it. A farmer might mention a road that was safe from patrols, while a shopkeeper quietly warned his neighbors when soldiers were heading toward the market.

No one called it a rebellion yet.

They were simply helping one another survive.

But the same stories were traveling from pack to pack, carried by people who no longer trusted the king’s officials.

Among those watching the changes was Ashley.

For weeks, he had moved through the countryside under a false name, traveling in plain clothes and avoiding the main roads whenever possible. He stopped in small villages where Samuel’s officials rarely bothered to stay and listened to people who had no idea who was sitting across from them.

Everywhere he went, he saw the same signs.

Pups sharing a single loaf of bread. Fields were left untended because farmers could no longer afford the taxes. Empty stalls where merchants had once sold fresh produce. Families sleeping in houses that were slowly falling apart because they could not afford repairs.

Ashley stood outside one farmhouse as a woman divided a small piece of bread between three hungry pups. He watched her give the largest piece to the youngest before pretending she wasn’t hungry herself.

His jaw tightened.

He had seen enough.

The kingdom wasn’t going to remain silent forever.

Families were being driven from their homes after falling behind on the new taxes. Some left with whatever they could carry, while others watched soldiers seal their doors and mark the properties for the crown.

The final blow came when Ashley reached a small pack a few hours outside the capital.

A crowd had gathered near the center of the pack. A young man knelt beside an older man lying motionless on the ground, his shirt torn and blood darkening the side of his face. Two villagers were trying to lift him while the young man kept hold of his hand.

Ashley pushed through the crowd and crouched beside the injured man.

"Help me get him to the clinic."

The young man and two pack neighbors carefully lifted the man and carried him down the narrow road. Ashley followed close behind, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

Inside the small clinic, the healer hurried toward them and directed them to an empty bed.

Ashley waited until the man was settled before turning to the pack neighbor.

"When did this happen?"

"This moonrise," an old woman answered. Tears gathered in her eyes as she twisted the edge of her shawl between her fingers. "He tried to stop them from taking our neighbor. They beat him and left him there."

Ashley looked toward the injured man.

"What did they say?"

The woman lowered her voice. "They said anyone who questions the new king is an enemy of the kingdom."

Ashley said nothing.

His hands slowly curled at his sides.

He remembered Samuel’s speeches after taking the throne. Peace. Stability. A stronger kingdom. The words had been repeated so often that they had almost begun to sound convincing, but Ashley had never believed them.

He had known from the beginning that Samuel was using those promises to make his seizure of the throne appear justified.

Now he had seen what Samuel’s version of stability truly looked like.

That moonfall, Ashley stood alone on a hill overlooking the distant lights of the capital. The wind pulled at his dark cloak as he stared toward the palace, its towers glowing against the moonfall.

He reached into his coat and touched the small communication device hidden inside.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then his gaze settled on the palace, where Samuel now ruled.

"If you think taking the throne means you’ve won," he whispered, "then you have no idea what you’re walking into."

Far away, inside the royal palace, Samuel signed another execution order without looking up from his desk.

He had no idea that the man he feared most was already preparing to move against him.

And he had no idea that the suffering spreading through his kingdom was giving the resistance something his soldiers could never crush: people willing to fight back.