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After My Alpha Chained Me, I Ran to the Rogue King Novel Cover

After My Alpha Chained Me, I Ran to the Rogue King

The guards' grip on my arms was iron-tight as they dragged me across the pristine marble floors of Diamond Crest territory. My boots—caked with mud and blood from the rogue skirmish—left dirty tracks in my wake. The scent of pine and earth that clung to me after days in the borderlands seemed to offend every wolf we passed. "Could you walk faster?" The guard on my right—a broad-shouldered man with a scar above his eyebrow—yanked me forward. "You're embarrassing us." I spat a mouthful of blood onto the polished floor. "Sorry to inconvenience you with my existence." The left guard—younger, with nervous eyes—shifted uncomfortably. "Margo, please. Alpha Harlan said to bring you straight to the holding—I mean, guest room." "Holding cell," I corrected, twisting my arm free. "Just say it. We all know what this is." They shoved me through a door that looked like it belonged in a high-end hotel suite.
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Chapter 3

The library had always been my sanctuary. Even as a child, I'd discovered the ventilation shafts that crisscrossed the Pack House—perfect hiding spots when I needed to escape my stepmother's "lessons" in proper Luna behavior.

Now, curled into the narrow metal tunnel above the restricted section, I listened to voices drifting up from below.

"The girl is becoming a problem," Elizabeth's voice carried that familiar note of irritation that always made my skin crawl. "She's too wild, too unpredictable."

"You worry too much, Mother." Bonnie's tone was dismissive, but I heard the calculation behind it. "Gideon will tire of her soon enough."

I shifted slightly, trying to hear better. The silver collar around my ankle burned in response, a constant reminder of my captivity.

"The Council is growing impatient," Elizabeth continued, her heels clicking as she paced. "They want her bloodline voting rights transferred to Gideon immediately."

"And once they're transferred?" Bonnie's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Then we declare her mentally unstable. Gideon can annul the marriage, and you'll be waiting in the wings." Elizabeth's laugh was cold. "The perfect replacement. His chosen mate."

My fingers curled into fists, the metal of the ventilation shaft creaking slightly under my grip. So that was their plan—use me to transfer my mother's voting rights to Gideon, then discard me like trash.

"And if she causes problems?" Bonnie asked.

"She won't." Elizabeth's voice hardened. "Her father has made sure of that. The silver collar will keep her in line until the transfer is complete."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood, forcing back a growl that would have given away my position.

* * *

That evening, Gideon surprised me by inviting me to dine with him in his private quarters. The room was austere—black furniture, white walls, not a single personal touch.

"You look... presentable," he said as I entered, his eyes assessing me with clinical detachment.

I'd been allowed to shower alone today, a small mercy after weeks of being scrubbed raw by the Omegas. "I heard something you should know."

His eyebrow arched slightly. "I'm listening."

I hesitated, suddenly uncertain. This man had been nothing but cruel to me, yet he was my contracted mate. If anyone could stop Elizabeth and Bonnie's plan...

"My stepmother and half-sister are plotting against you," I said, keeping my voice low. "They want to declare me unstable after you secure my bloodline rights."

Something flickered across his face—surprise, perhaps—before his expression hardened again. "And why would they do that?"

"So Bonnie can take my place as your mate." I leaned forward, dropping my guard slightly. "This marriage was never about me. It was about control."

Gideon studied me for a long moment, then laughed—a cold, humorless sound. "How convenient that you would claim such a thing."

"It's not a claim. It's the truth."

"Truth?" He leaned back in his chair. "Or jealousy? Paranoia?"

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. "You think I'm making this up?"

"I think you're desperate to escape your duties." His voice softened slightly. "It's understandable. Many she-wolves resist their place initially."

"My place?" I echoed, anger rising. "You mean your prisoner."

"If you behave at the Alpha Ball tomorrow," he said, changing the subject abruptly, "I might remove your collar for the night."

* * *

The Alpha Ball was a nightmare of crystal chandeliers and false smiles. Gideon had dressed me in a pale blue gown that covered every inch of skin, including the warrior scars on my arms and shoulders.

"Stand up straight," he murmured as we entered the grand ballroom. "And remember what happens to disobedient Lunas."

The threat hung between us as we moved through the crowd. I felt eyes on me—curious, judgmental, pitying.

"Margo Knight," Elder Cordelia's voice cut through the murmur of conversation as she approached us. "Or should I say, Hughes now?"

I stiffened beside Gideon, who placed a possessive hand on my lower back.

"Elder Cordelia," Gideon acknowledged with a slight bow. "I see you've met my mate."

"Indeed." Her eyes raked over me dismissively. "Though I must say, she doesn't compare to her mother."

My head snapped up. "You knew my mother?"

A cruel smile twisted her lips. "Everyone knew the rabid bitch who thought she could challenge tradition."

The room seemed to tilt around me. My mother—the legendary Alpha female who had died when I was young—reduced to this Elder's vicious insult.

"She got what she deserved," Cordelia continued, her voice carrying across the now-silent ballroom. "As will any she-wolf who forgets her place."

Something inside me snapped. Heat flooded my vision as my eyes shifted to gold, my nails elongating into claws before I could stop them.

I lunged forward, grabbing Cordelia's throat. "You will not speak of her that way."

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