Page 50 of The Alpha's Forbidden Heir

Instead, I pull him closer, my nails digging into his shoulders as his hands slide under my dress. He growls in approval, his lips finding mine again with renewed hunger.

Just as his hands bunch the fabric of my dress to pull it over my head, something catches my eye—a folded piece of paper lying on my pillow.

"Wait," I gasp, breaking the kiss.

He growls in frustration, his hands freezing. "What now?"

"There's... something on my pillow," I manage, my voice barely a whisper.

His eyes flick to the note, and his expression darkens. He pulls away reluctantly, grabbing the paper before I can.

His face hardens as he reads it, the jagged handwriting almost violent against the page. Without a word, he hands it to me.

"Leave. You don't belong here. Take your half-breed son and go before it's too late."

My blood runs cold as I read the words, my hands trembling.

Elias.

Chapter Fifteen

Bane

Rook leans casually against the edge of the desk, swirling his wine like he has all the time in the world. His relaxed demeanor grates on my nerves, especially now, with that damned note burning a hole in my pocket.

"You’re quiet," Rook observes, taking a slow sip. His green eyes flick to me, sharp and calculating. "That usually means someone’s about to regret existing."

"Not now, Rook," I mutter, my fingers tapping restlessly against the desk. The note Aria found earlier replays in my mind, the jagged handwriting and venomous words a constant itch at the back of my skull. Take your half-breed son and go before it’s too late.

Suddenly, a knock sounds at the door. My eyes dart up as it swings open, revealing one of the guards. He salutes sharply, his posture stiff as he delivers the message.

"Alpha," the guard begins, his voice steady. "Council Elder Nathaniel has arrived. He's waiting in the main hall."

Rook straightens immediately, setting his glass down with a sharp clink. His usual smirk disappears, replaced by a stony expression. I feel my own spine stiffen at the name.

"Great," I mutter under my breath. "Just what I needed—a lecture from the fossil brigade."

Rook stands, clearly intending to make a quiet exit. "I'll leave you to it."

"Sit your ass back down," I growl, pointing at the chair across from me.

He hesitates, his eyes narrowing slightly, but obeys, sinking into the chair.

"Nathaniel can deal with you being here," I say sharply. "You're my beta. You're not leaving me alone to deal with this old wolf."

The guard steps aside, and a moment later, Nathaniel enters the room.

The elder moves with a grace that belies his years, his silver hair slicked back, his eyes sharp and calculating as they sweepthe room. He looks every bit the picture of a regal wolf, his traditional leather attire starkly contrasting with the modernity of my office.

"Bane," Nathaniel greets, his voice low and calm but carrying the weight of authority.

"Nathaniel," I reply evenly, standing to meet him halfway. I don't offer my hand. He doesn't expect it.

Nathaniel's eyes flick to Rook, who remains seated, then back to me. His thin lips press into a line, but he says nothing about it.

"I've been hearing… troubling things," Nathaniel begins, clasping his hands behind his back. "Whispers of unrest in the pack. Letters of concern. And at the heart of it all, a human mate."

I lean back against the desk, crossing my arms. "Ah, so you've come to give me your usual sermon on purity and tradition. How quaint."

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