Page 105 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

She screamed and lunged at me with the dagger.

I didn't flinch.

The blade stopped an inch from my throat. I felt the cold metal against my skin, raising goosebumps. Her arm trembled, breathing ragged like an enraged beast.

"You think I won't kill you?" She hissed through clenched teeth.

"You can," I said, meeting her eyes. "But you won't. Because killing me would be too easy. You want me to suffer, to wish I were dead. Am I right?"

Her mouth twitched.

Then she laughed. That laugh made my stomach turn—not the laugh of a sane person, but someone completely broken.

"You're right," she said, lowering the dagger, turning a circle in the cave. "Killing you would be too easy. I'll make Zane watch you suffer. I'll make him know what it feels like to lose the most important person."

She walked to the cave entrance where a copper mirror sat—probably left from an abandoned camp. She straightened her hair in the reflection, wiped dust from her face, then turned, flashing me a sweet smile.

"I'm going to invite His Majesty to watch a good show," she said. "You wait here. Don't run off."

She left laughing.

I sat alone in the darkness, rope biting into my wrists. Torches flickered, shadows writhing on walls like grotesque dancers. I closed my eyes, breathed deep, slowed my heartbeat.

Calm down. Mia, calm down. You're not the voiceless girl from five years ago. You can speak, you can think, you can fight back. You won't sit here waiting to be rescued.

I started working my wrists, trying to loosen the rope.

After some time, footsteps echoed outside. Not one person—many.

Torchlight flooded in from the entrance, illuminating the whole cave. I squinted and saw a group enter—led by Zane, his face dark as a storm sky. Behind him: guards and several elders. Their expressions varied—tense, confused, some clearly here for the show.

Leah stood center stage, dagger in hand, wearing a victor's smile.

"Welcome, Your Majesty." She spread her arms like a stage performer. "Welcome to my little theater."

Zane's gaze swept past her, landing on me. Those gray-blue eyes flashed with anger and worry. His jaw clenched, hands balling into fists.

"Let her go," he said, voice cold as winter iron.

"Don't rush, Your Majesty." Leah smiled, pointing the dagger at me. "We have much to discuss."

She turned to Zane, smile twisting. "You know, these five years, I thought about you every day. Your handsome face, your cold eyes, your superiority. I gave you so much—pleased you, catered to you, became what you wanted—but you never truly looked at me once."

Her voice trembled, eyes reddening. "You only saw her. This mute. This useless woman who couldn't even speak. What's so good about her? How is she better than me?"

"She's better than you in every way," Zane said, voice flat as stating fact. "She has a kind heart, a resilient soul, courage that never bows to fate. And you—you only have jealousy and lies."

Leah's expression shattered in that instant.

Not ordinary hurt—something deeper. Like a person's last psychological defense crumbling, revealing the hollow, twisted, inhuman core beneath.

"Fine," she said, voice suddenly light, barely a whisper. "Since you say that—let's make a deal."

She raised the dagger, aimed at my heart.

"Sever your fated mate bond with her," she said. "Then mark me. Make me your Luna. Your real Luna. If you do that, I'll let her go."

The cave fell silent. I heard torches crackling, my own heartbeat, and Zane's breathing—heavy, rapid, like he was desperately suppressing something.