Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Chapter 232

LUCIEN'S POV

"Is that all?" Adele asked, her voice light, almost teasing, like we'd just wrapped up a casual chat about the weather.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—to fill the heavy silence, but the words stuck. Yeah? No? I didn't know.

Before I could figure it out, she tugged me down by the neck, her fingers firm in my hair, and kissed me. Soft at first, then deeper, her lips pressing against mine with that familiar heat that always set my blood on fire.

I kissed her back fiercely, my hands sliding from her waist to her back, crushing her against me. God, she tasted like home—like everything I needed and didn't deserve.

My wolf surged forward, wanting more, wanting to claim her all over again right there on the bed. But underneath the desire, fear gnawed at me. Real, gut-twisting fear. This calm of hers... it felt wrong. Too perfect. Like I was walking on eggshells, one wrong step away from shattering everything. What if this was the eye of the storm? What if she was holding back, and any second now, the dam would break?

She pulled away first, her breath mingling with mine, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with something I couldn't quite read—affection? Or calculation? "We should have dinner later," she said casually, like it was no big deal. "As a family. I want to get to know your son. What's his name again?"

The words hit me like a cold splash of water. Dinner? As a family? With Andrea? My mind reeled, trying to catch up. "Andrea," I managed, my voice rough, barely above a whisper.

She nodded, still smiling. "That's nice. I have to go right now—the kids must be waiting for me." She leaned in for a quick kiss—peck on the lips, gone before I could react—and then she was pulling away, heading for the door.

I stood there, frozen, watching her go. The door clicked shut behind her, and the room felt empty, echoing with the ghost of her presence. My heart hammered in my chest, loud and erratic, like it was trying to break free. What just happened? Acceptance? Dinner plans? I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the roots, and a laugh bubbled up—sharp, disbelieving. "What the fuck?"

My legs felt like jelly, weak and unsteady. I stumbled to the bed, collapsing onto the edge, my eyes glued to the door. Any second now, she'd burst back in. Explode. Yell. Cry. Tell me she couldn't do this after all. The tension coiled in my gut, waiting, waiting. But nothing. The door stayed shut. The palace hummed faintly outside—guards changing shifts, distant voices—but in here, silence.

Was I overthinking it? Maybe she really was okay. Maybe the bond we'd sealed last night was strong enough to weather this. Andrea wasn't a threat; he was just a kid. Innocent. And Adele... she was tough. Fierce. She'd slapped Naomi down without hesitation earlier. If anyone could handle this, it was her.

But doubt whispered in the back of my mind. Women like Adele didn't just swallow things like it was nothing. That dark chuckle of hers, the whispered threat—it lingered, sending chills down my spine.

Planning. She had to be planning something. Revenge on Naomi? A test for me? Or worse—pulling away slowly, day by day, until the space between us grew too wide to bridge?

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. The envelope with the results poked out of my pocket, a reminder of how fast everything had flipped.

Positive. A son. My son. Joy flickered somewhere deep inside—Andrea's little face, those trusting eyes—but it was buried under layers of fear. How did I even start being a father? And with Adele...god, if I lost her over this, I'd shatter.

I was still lost in the spiral, thoughts chasing each other in circles, when a knock echoed on the door. Sharp. Insistent. My heart skipped hard, adrenaline surging.

Adele?

But no—she wouldn't knock. Not in our room. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stand, legs still shaky. Who the hell was it now? I crossed the room, hand on the knob, and yanked it open.

Naomi.

Standing there with eyes blazing, cheeks flushed red—probably still smarting from the slaps Adele had laid on her earlier. Her hair was disheveled, like she'd run her hands through it in frustration, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Anger rolled off her in waves, thick and bitter.

"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice flat, neutral. I didn't have the energy for her games right now.

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she tried to step forward, like she was going to barge right in.

I moved fast, blocking her with my body, stepping out into the hall and pulling the door shut behind me with a firm click.

"What do you think you're doing?" I growled, my wolf rising close to the surface, hackles up.

She folded her arms, chin lifting defiantly. "I'm just trying to see where I'll be sleeping."

The words hung there, absurd and infuriating. I stared at her, disbelief turning to anger hot and fast. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm sure the results are out by now. You know Andrea is your son. So you'll have to do the right thing."

I stepped closer, towering over her, my voice dropping to a dangerous low. "The right thing? Oh yeah, I'll do the right thing. I'll take care of my son." Provide for him. Be there for him. But that doesn't mean I'll have anything to do with you."

Her face paled for a split second, but she recovered quick, jutting her chin out. "Oh really? You think Andrea will choose you over me? I'm his mother. He's known me his whole life."

I felt a snarl building in my chest. "Weren't you the one that said he'd been asking about his father? Nonstop? Demanding to know me?"

She blinked, caught off guard, her arms dropping slightly. "I... I said so, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love me. I'm the one who's raised him. Fed him. Held him when he cried."

The hallway felt narrower, the tension crackling like lightning about to strike.

"Now that I really think about this," I said slowly, my voice edged with suspicion, "don't tell me you had something to do with what happened that night. Because you wanted the title—the beta's wife. Power. Status."

Her eyes widened, genuine shock flashing across her face—or was it fear? "How can you say that? If that was the case, why wait till he's three? Why didn't I come as soon as I was pregnant? I only came because his demands for you became too much to bear. He wouldn't stop asking!"

She sounded desperate now, words tumbling out fast. But it didn't add up. Not completely. I grabbed her arm, fingers digging in—not hard enough to bruise, but firm enough to make her gasp.

I pulled her closer, my face inches from hers, eyes locked. "I swear, Naomi, I'll get to the bottom of this. Don't think three years is enough to wipe off evidence. I'm the beta, if you're forgetting. I can get my hands on anything I want—witnesses, records, whatever it takes. I'll find out what really happened that night."

Her breath hitched, eyes darting away for a fraction of a second. I released her, shoving her back a step. "Get out of my sight."

She stared at me, something strange flickering in her gaze—anger? Panic? She rubbed her arm where I'd grabbed it, then turned and ran off down the hall, footsteps echoing until they faded.

I stood there, chest heaving, breath coming in short, angry bursts. My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms.

Something wasn't right. A missing piece, nagging at the edges of my mind.

Why now? Why hide for so long if it was innocent? And Andrea—did he really demand to meet me, or was that just her story? The tension wrapped around me like a vice, squeezing tighter.

I leaned against the door, head thunking back against the wood.

Adele's calm acceptance.

Naomi's sudden appearance after years.

Andrea's innocent face.

The night I couldn't remember.

It all circled in my head like vultures waiting for something to die.

A storm was brewing, and I was right in the middle.