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Claimed by the Fallen King Novel Cover

Claimed by the Fallen King

After a devastating betrayal by her fated mate and best friend, Evelyn is handed over as a tribute to Alexander, the tyrannical Lycan King. Haunted by the loss of his own mate, Alexander is descending into a telepathic madness that only Evelyn’s presence can soothe. While he doubts her intentions, Evelyn’s desperate escape attempt leads to a death sentence. In that harrowing moment, they both realize the impossible: the brutal king is her second chance mate.
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Chapter 4

Evelyn

After the Beta takes off with the three women in tow, the other women break off into groups. Some isolate themselves, others burst into tears while others rush to comfort them, and the remaining women who actually want to be here gather together as well.

While they’re all broken off and distracted with gossip, I sneak out of the dormitory.

My mother’s words echo in my mind.

Survive. Find a way to escape the Lycan King. Find a way home to us.

By the grace of the fates, I have found a way to survive the night. I will take advantage of every spare moment searching for a way out of here. Leaving tonight might not be the best option, but at least I’ll gather the information I need for when it is the right time to escape.

Then again, with so many women around here, maybe no one will notice if one of us disappears.

I avoid the guards as I explore the palace hallways, quietly making my way to the more remote parts of the palace. I mark every stairwell and window, every door that leads outside. I memorize different routes to every exit in case my chosen route becomes blocked.

I’m making my way down a long, open hallway when I hear footsteps approaching around the corner. With no stairs to disappear up or down, I slip into a room I previously marked as a library. In my haste, I scrape against the door, closing it against myself before I’m all the way through.

I stifle my own hiss to avoid giving away my location.

The footsteps do not hesitate or alter, passing by my position with no suspicion at all. I’m confident they didn’t notice me, but it was a close enough call that I decide to halt my explorations for the day.

I slip back into the dormitories, startled when the woman in the forest green dress who volunteered in my place corners me. “I’m Rebecca,” she offers by way of greeting.

“Uh, hi, Rebecca.” I debate internally the pros and cons of sharing my name in return before I remember she probably already knows mine from when the Beta called it off his list.

“Where were you just now?” she asks before I have an opportunity to formally introduce myself.

“Out for a walk,” I reply smoothly. I even furrow my brows as if I’m not sure why she would be asking me such an odd question.

Rebecca looks me over once appraisingly. I don’t note any suspicion on her face, though that is now two close calls tonight.

“You really shouldn’t wander around the palace,” she warns. “The three women who were sent to the lycan king earlier were expelled from the palace for angering the king. No one died, but if you anger the royal family, you could get expelled, too.”

I blink, hiding my shock from showing on my face. “Thanks, Rebecca,” I offer casually, then climb into one of the empty bunks to go to sleep.

It’s not long after that the lights are shut off automatically, and the few remaining women milling about find an empty bed for the night, too.

Expelled? I didn’t know expulsion was one of the punishments. I was sure the options were a swift death or a painful one.

I can’t believe how lucky those three women are. They were handed their freedom, just like that! If I had known, I would have gone with them.

Instead, I’m stuck here, trying to find a way to escape without anyone noticing.

I take a deep breath, willing myself not to dwell on past decisions that I can’t do anything about now. All I can do is my best with the information I have at the time.

And with that calming thought, I fall into a dreamless sleep.

Only to be awoken with a start by soldiers early the next morning.

“You’ve been reported for sneaking around the palace in an attempt to escape,” a soldier informs me gruffly while I’m still blinking the sleep out of my eyes.

“Escape? No,” I argue, “I was just on a walk. Stretching my legs.”

As I pull myself into a sitting position, I notice Rebecca behind them, somehow still looking as perfectly as she did yesterday, smirking in satisfaction.

“All the way near the exit to the gardens?” the soldier asks accusatorily as he lifts a piece of torn fabric – that perfectly matches my purple dress. I furrow my brows in confusion, my mind reeling, trying to figure out when—

The library. When I scraped against the door, it must have torn, and I was too distracted by whoever was approaching that I didn’t notice. I check the back of my arm where I had rubbed against the wood, and yes – there’s a missing hole perfectly matching the swatch of fabric in the soldier’s hand.

“The library where we found this is nowhere near these dormitories. Much too far to be merely ‘stretching your legs.’”

The soldier stares me down condescendingly like he has much better things to be doing than catching a lowly sacrifice in her lie.

“Come on,” he says, almost sounding bored. “Per ordinance seventy-four, you are to be whipped twenty times as a deterrent and to set an example for the other women here.”

I look around as they drag me out of the dormitory, ignoring Rebecca’s smug expression, wondering if there’s any way out of this, any way to escape my punishment. But there are three large soldiers, all gripping me tightly as they tug me roughly along to what looks like traditional execution grounds.

My stomach drops, and I realize that twenty lashes is better than losing my life altogether.

I’m shoved to my knees, the sound of a whip cracking on the stone beneath me causing me to flinch. Whoever’s holding the whip behind me chuckles at my reaction.

I hear his sharp intake of breath, the whistle of the whip through the air as he pulls it back for my first lash. I brace myself against the incoming pain, willing myself to be strong and stoic.

But the expected sting never comes.

I dare a glance over my shoulder where the man with the whip trembles and falls to his knees. I think he’s having a fit until he bows his head low, practically shouting, “Your Majesty!”

I whip my head over my other shoulder to find the king approaching me. I’ve never seen him before, but between the reaction of the executioner behind me and the crown perched on the bleach blond hair of the man before me, it must be the king.

Gently, he takes my chin and tilts my head up.

My breath shakes as I take in his handsome features. I’m so overwhelmed by his beauty that I can’t even make out which features set my heart racing.

But his beauty is not enough to distract from my vulnerable position, and I wonder if the king is here to increase my punishment. His blue eyes are impossible to read.

At that moment, my wolf rouses from her deep sleep that she fell into when Lucas rejected us, rushing to tell me, “He is our second chance – our mate.”

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