The Alpha's Unwanted Bride novel Chapter 517

Chapter 517: DEEP THOUGHTS

The laughter of men still drifted faintly through the corridors below, mingling with the clatter of goblets and drunken boasts, but Amara’s attention was fixed wholly on the balcony where Cherry had just disappeared. Her breath came quick and shallow, as though she herself had been part of the heated spectacle, though she had only been a witness, an intruder of sorts, but one Cherry had allowed.

Allowed.

That thought alone sent a shiver crawling down Amara’s spine.

Cherry had known she was there, watching, listening, learning.

Every moan, every declaration, every flare of temper between the two women, it had all been for her benefit, hadn’t it? A performance. A test.

Amara pressed a hand to her lips, her body thrumming with something she could not name.

Fear? Thrill? Desire? Or was it simply the intoxicating realization that she had been noticed by Cherry, not as a child, not as one of Candy’s nameless girls, but as someone worthy of a secret.

She lingered in the shadowed corridor, where the torchlight carved deep golden pools against the wall.

Below her bare feet, the stones felt cold and grounding, a reminder to steady herself. Cherry was dangerous, there was no questioning that.

The way she had spoken of the crown, of her sister, of vengeance... her hunger was bottomless, a void that swallowed everything in its path.

But Amara was not naïve. She had seen enough of the world in her seventeen years to know that those who held power never shared it willingly.

Candy had taught her that much, even when she thought she was hiding it behind perfume and silks.

Amara leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. She could still hear Cherry’s words echoing inside her: The crown is everything to me.

For most, that kind of hunger would be terrifying. For Amara, it was familiar.

Because she, too, wanted something.

Not the crown, at least not yet. But she wanted more than to be paraded in Candy’s silken cages, more than to be auctioned off to the highest bidder or saved for Cherry’s schemes.

She wanted her name whispered with fear and reverence, the way Cherry’s was. She wanted men and women alike to tremble at her presence, to bow their heads when she passed.

And if Cherry thought she could use her, then Amara would use Cherry in return.

She opened her eyes slowly, watching the place where the curtains still swayed faintly from Cherry’s departure. A smile tugged at her lips, small but sharp.

Cherry had underestimated her. Everyone did. That was their mistake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night stretched on, and the sounds of pleasure and revelry gave way to the quiet hum of nocturnal insects. Amara returned to her quarters, though sleep never came to her. She sat by the window, staring out at the dim courtyard below, where shadows of guards shifted back and forth like restless ghosts.

Her thoughts were fire, too bright and wild to extinguish.

Candy had spoken of selling the whorehouse, of dispersing the girls, of running away with Cherry. Amara scoffed softly at the memory. How foolish Candy could be, even after all these years.

Love, devotion, those were shackles disguised as ribbons.

Candy had let herself be bound, and though she pretended to hold power over her girls, Amara knew the truth: Candy was as much a prisoner as any of them.

But Cherry was different.

Cherry would never bow. She would never surrender. And that made her both a threat and an opportunity.

Amara traced a finger along the sill, drawing invisible patterns. She imagined herself beside Cherry, not as a pawn, not as a tool, but as an equal.

Someone she could not discard so easily. Someone she needed.

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