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Chapter Seventeen

Author: Milly Ly
last update publish date: 2026-06-04 01:54:07

My stomach claws at itself, twisting, tearing. Acid scorches my throat; I retch into porcelain, praying for escape from my own body. The sound ricochets—metallic, hollow—like the palace itself is listening, every tile a witness to my collapse. Breath splinters, pulse hammering bone, desperate to break free.

“Princess?” Phantom’s voice cuts through, sharp with panic. “I thought you left. Where were you?” Urgency threads his words, vibrating through the suite.

7 dim palace light. “You’re si
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  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Thirty-seven

    Maryelle’s POV I close my eyes, chasing silence. My breath steadies—inhale, exhale—until the palace walls dissolve, until the noise of reporters and Phantom’s silence fade. I tell myself this is meditation, a way to stop overthinking, to quiet the storm. But the quiet doesn’t stay empty. It thickens. A hum rises beneath my skin, metallic and alive, vibrating through bone. My pulse stutters. The air feels charged, as if the world itself is holding its breath. Then I see it. A figure forms in the dark—tall, gleaming, forged from shadow and steel. Its body is both armor and wound, edges sharp, surface fractured, light glinting off seams that look like scars. Its eyes burn with a cold fire, not cruel, but ancient. “You called me,” the voice reverberates, not spoken but felt, echoing inside my chest. “I didn’t,” I whisper. “I was only trying to clear my head.” “You are me. I am you. There is no clearing without facing.” My throat tightens. “What about her? My werec

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Thirty-six

    Phantom’s POV The conference room hums with fluorescent light, the buzz overhead mixing with the restless murmur of reporters. The air is thick with perfume, ink, and anticipation. Cameras flash like lightning, each burst ricocheting off the paneled walls, momentarily blinding. The microphones on the long table hiss and crackle, amplifying every cough, every shuffle of paper. I stand at the podium, no longer a prince answering to another’s crown—now king. Every word I speak carries the weight of my people, every silence is dissected. Calm is my armor, restraint my weapon. “King Phantom,” a voice cuts through the noise, sharp, insistent. “Can you confirm who your chosen mate is?” The air tightens. Reporters lean forward, pens poised, cameras ready to capture the moment. My heartbeat is steady, deliberate, a drum I refuse to let them hear. I let the silence stretch, savoring the tension. Then I allow a faint smile to curve my mouth. “The revelation will be made when it’s time.

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Thirty-five

    I place a tray of Halo‑Halo on the table, the colors gleaming like jewels in glass. Another of my grandma’s recipes, perfected by Marja, who insists dessert is the glue that holds family together. The sweet chill of shaved ice and fruit seems almost ironic, considering the heat of the questions hanging in the air. “May we please get to the part of this evening where one of you explains who or what originally created werecreatures?” Anna asks, her tone impatient but curious, eyes flicking between us like she’s waiting for someone to finally spill the truth. “Once upon a time, there was a—” “No you don’t,” Shaw cuts in, interrupting me with a smirk. “This isn’t a fairy tale, so it shouldn’t be told as one. Which is why I’m telling her the story.” “And you think you can teach Anna about the history of werecreatures better than I can? You’ve been a werecreature all of what… five minutes? You know what, Shaw? Go ahead. Impress us with your epic storytelling skills.” I cross my arm

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Thirty-four

    By late afternoon, I try calling Phantom. Once. Twice. Three times. Each ring stretches like a blade across silence, cutting deeper when no answer comes. My pulse thrums, uneven, tethered to a voice that refuses to break through. Shadows curl at the edges of my thoughts, whispering possibilities I don’t want to name. Breath catches in my throat, fragile, as if the air itself resists filling my lungs. I tell myself he’s busy, that Rome emergencies can’t wait. But the quiet on the other end feels heavier each moment I don’t hear from him. I toss my phone onto the bed, muttering, “Fine. Ignore me. I’ll just host a supernatural dinner party and not overthink about you.” The sarcasm doesn’t soothe the ache, but it makes me laugh, and laughter is better than panic. The sound echoes in the empty room, brittle but defiant, like I’m daring the silence to break. By evening, I overhear Shaw and Israfil bickering outside the mansion Phantom had the keys sent to me before he left. The note sai

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Thirty-three

    Phantom’s kiss still tingles on my lips as I step out of the car, his gaze burning into my back until I vanish into the chaos of school. My pulse thrums, tethered to him even as lockers slam, sneakers squeak, and gossip ricochets down the hall. After last night, the noise feels cartoonish, like the world forgot how heavy everything feels when you’re caught between kingdoms and secrets. Shadows cling to the corners, whispering what I can’t say aloud. The classroom hums with chatter, voices overlapping like static. I spot Israfil and Anna, my pulse skipping, breath catching in my throat. “Seriously, people, I miss one day of school and all hell breaks loose?” I announce, referring to the witch‑made earthquake I heard rattled the halls while I played hooky. Apparently, that’s what tipped my mom off to my absence. I stride toward them, nerves buzzing under my skin. Training this summer was not only in another state but left me with little free time. Months have passed since I’ve se

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Thirty-two

    The drive feels shorter than it should. Phantom’s hand rests near mine on the gearshift, steady, unyielding, as if promising it will be okay. My mother’s voice still echoes in my ear, agitated and disappointed, but his presence beside me tempers the dread. The stuffed coyote sits in the backseat, silent witness to the collision course we’re on. The house looms as we pull into the driveway. Porch light blazing, curtains drawn tight, the air heavy with expectation. Phantom kills the engine, leans back, and studies the front door like it’s a battlefield. His grin flickers, restrained but confident. "Ready?" he asks, voice low, magnetic, carrying that dangerous calm that makes my pulse thrum. I swallow, nerves tangling with the remnants of heat still clinging to my skin. "She might not like you right away." His eyes narrow, shadowed but steady. "She doesn’t have to. You do." 🐾👑🐾👑🐾 The door swings open before we knock. Mom stands framed in the light, arms crossed, ga

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Nine

    Phantom lifts his glass, the slice of lemon catching the glow as he sips. Condensation slides down the crystal, a bead tracing the curve before dropping onto the linen. His eyes stay locked on mine—unwavering, consuming—as if the rest of the restaurant has dissolved into shadow. “Kelsa hates me,

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Eight

    Al's snoring kept me up all night. Loud and annoying, it was like listening to an elephant try to sing. I'm dressed and ready to go, but there's no way I'll make it to Phantom's place in one minute—and I am precisely one minute away from officially being late. I step outside and notice a black seda

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Seven

    A few hours later, Al walks through the door carrying a paper bag in one hand and a bottle of orange cream soda in the other. “It's a poor excuse of an apology, but I suck at apologies.” She hands me both the bag and the soda. She looks down at her feet, shame coloring her face. The delicious smell

  • The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate   Chapter Five

    I come out of the bathroom, thankful Martha left my clothing from yesterday both steamed and smelling like fabric softener. The woman should be nominated for sainthood. I'd call the Vatican myself if I had their number. I'm positive I barfed on myself last night, but confirming it will cause me to

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