Page 7 of Alpha's Impostor Bride

“I see.” My hand wraps around the bottle. “And you are sure this is the antidote?”

“I’ve seen it used. It is now produced in-house and has been tested.”

She stands to leave, but I stop her. “I plan to keep her, Harriet. She will be the queen.”

Harriet blinks slowly. “I see.”

“If what you say is true, then I cannot leave her in the hands of the other maids. I want you to be her maid. You’ll still maintain your duties as the head maid, but you are the only one I want by her side. I also want you to keep an eye on her. I don’t trust her.”

“I understand. And the mating ceremony?”

“It will be done quickly. Tomorrow. I have things to do, and I’m not going to waste time on some grand event.”

“Very well. I’ll have the chef make food that will be easy on her stomach. I’ll also have a healer come in and take a look at her after the ceremony.”

“He just needs to make sure she can bear heirs.”

Harriet glances at me. “And the queen’s involvement with the kingdom?”

I gesture with my hand. “Keep an eye on her. If she does anything suspicious, report to me. I’m just interested in her ability to produce the next king, nothing more. Let her amuse herself as she sees fit.”

Harriet exits the room, but I linger, looking around. This was my mother’s sitting area. It has been years since she and my father were assassinated by the rebels in the Eastern Kingdom. Despite the fact that Harriet cleans in here weekly, I can still smell that familiar scent of roses. My mother loved roses. Her sitting room was always adorned with them.

I get to my feet. There’s no point in lingering in the past. There’s nothing useful there anymore.

Tonight, I’ll sleep. And tomorrow, I’ll deal with the woman lying in my bed.

Because whoever that woman is, she is not Princess Vivian.

Chapter 3

Leanna Avery

My body aches as awareness flickers through me.

I’m pressed against something hard, and I feel warm and comfortable. I don’t want to wake up. I snuggle deeper, not willing to relinquish this source of heat. My wolf is comfortably curled inside the recesses of my mind, content for a change.

It’s the quiet growl that makes my eyes fly open. I am instantly looking into a pair of mildly annoyed, amber eyes set in a face that has been chiseled by the gods themselves. A startled “eek” slips from my mouth as I scramble backward, get tangled in the sheets, and fall off the side of the bed onto the hard floor.

Groaning, I try to sit up but fail, my lower back hurting.

The bed creaks, and the owner of the face, the king of the Northern Kingdom, walks around the foot of the bed toward me.

“I’m sorry!” Petrified, I try to move away from him, but he just ignores me, lifting me—sheets and all—and dumping me back on the bed.

“You sleep like the dead.” His voice is cool and unaffected, those sharp, amber eyes studying me.

“I–I’m sorry.”

A flash of irritation crosses his face. “Stop apologizing.”

I clamp my mouth shut, not knowing what else to do.

He’s wearing nothing but a pair of dark pajama pants, his upper body bare. The hardness I felt was his bulging muscles. His hair is jet black, with messy curls that make him look dangerously handsome. I tamp down the flare of attraction within me, horrified that I can think of something like that at a time like this.

King Cedric stares at me for a long moment before dragging over one of the chairs and settling down in it, facing me.

“Do you know why I’ve brought you here?”

---