Page 58 of The Alpha King's Mate

Three daughters?

How—

Protect.

Three tiny pups.

Daughters.

“True Luna princesses.”

Luna.

“Over my dead fucking body. No one shall lay claim to my daughters,” I snarled, already scanning the desk for something to throw.

Paperweight.

He was too fast.

Malakh growled, low and vicious, fully awake now and baying for blood.

I gave chase.

Rev shouted for Talon and bolted from the office, boots skidding on the polished floor.

The piece of shit had left the door open.

He was still screaming for Talon when Malakh burst forth.

Bones cracked and reshaped themselves in the same breath, muscle twisting and stretching beneath skin that could no longer hold it. My spine bowed, vertebrae popping into new alignment one after another, and my jaw unhinged with a wet, grinding pull as it lengthened into something built for tearing rather than speaking. Clothes tore apart at the seams, fabric shredding as fur erupted through skin in a single violent ripple. All I needed was teeth.

He turned back and we launched onto him, taking him down, my mind consumed by the single image of someone—anyone—trying to take my girls from me.

“Alpha King. It was a good prophecy. Your daughters will change the world,” he cried, both hands braced against Malakh’s throat, straining to keep our snapping jaws from his face.

Then I felt her.

Our eyes flew to the staircase.

She was already running, and with four stairs left, she launched herself into the air.

I panicked and moved to catch her.

Her dress tore down the seams as she transformed mid-fall, the change ripping through her faster than I’d ever seen a shift happen—no hesitation, no gradual unfolding, just a blur of motion and sound. Scraps of ivory silk floated down behind her like shed feathers. Where a woman had been a heartbeat ago, a wolf landed instead—rich, dark grey fur rippling with the momentum of the fall, ears sharp and pointed, and eyes blazing the same blood-red as my own.

She circled us once, twice, unhurried despite the violence still coursing through my own body. We turned to track her, forgetting Rev entirely.

I was going to tell you. After dinner, she said, then paused, reconsidering.And after mating. Possibly as you were falling asleep.

Malakh growled—low this time, more rumble than threat.

Why was he spying on me anyway?

For your protection, I said, my voice hard and cold, though it lost some of its edge the longer she held our gaze.

Her head dipped low, and Zira pressed herself against our fur, warm and solid, before ducking beneath our jaw entirely. Malakh went still and breathed her in—the true scent of her, animal and unfiltered, reaching us for the first time. Something in my chest, in whatever part of me was still capable of rational thought, settled.

Triplets, I said, resigned.