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Chapter 40
Last Updated:
2025-11-21 16:03:47
Latest chapter
CHOSEN FOR THE ALPHA Chapter 43
THERESSA’S POVThere are silences that feel empty, and there are silences that feel like something enormous is standing inside them. The silence after the intruders disappear is the second kind—the kind that doesn’t fade but grows heavier, like the air is waiting to collapse inward.I’m still gripping Lyon’s sleeve.Not because I can’t stand on my own—but because the world suddenly feels unsteady, like someone has the ground on a thread and is pulling at its edges.His arm is strong beneath my hand. Solid. Grounding. But the moment I hear myself ask:“Lyon… what’s happening to me?”—something breaks open inside my chest.Fear, yes. But also something deeper.Something I don’t have words for.Lyon’s jaw tightens. For the first time since I met him, he isn’t instantly composed. He isn’t effortlessly in control. He looks like someone calculating the truth and trying to figure out whether saying it will destroy me or save me.He turns toward me slowly.“Theressa,” he says, voice low, “li
CHOSEN FOR THE ALPHA Chapter 42
LYON’S POVThere is a moment—always—that separates anticipation from encounter. A thin slice of time where the world stops pretending to be harmless and reveals what has been waiting beneath its surface. As soon as the shadow detaches itself from the far end of the corridor, that moment arrives.Theressa’s breath tightens behind me.I feel it—sharp, quick, instinctive.Her fingers brush the back of my sleeve, not grabbing, just anchoring herself to something she trusts more than the ground beneath her feet.I shift my stance half a step in front of her, creating the line between us and whatever dares approach. The air grows denser, the silence sharpening into something more deliberate. The presence ahead of us does not rush. It does not hesitate. It moves with a confidence only predators carry—slow, calm, certain.A figure steps forward.Not fully into the light—just enough to take shape.Tall.Lean.Measured.And wrong.Everything about him feels calibrated, from the pace of his step
CHOSEN FOR THE ALPHA Chapter 41
THERESSA’S POVThe world doesn’t look the same anymore.It’s the same streets, the same warehouses, the same gray sky stretched thin over the district—but everything feels different. The colors look muted, the distance feels shorter, and every shadow seems to breathe. Not loud. Not obviously. Just enough to make my skin prickle and my heartbeat rise.Lyon drives without hesitation. Every decision he makes is sharp, precise, deliberate, as if he’s leading us into a space he’s already mapped out in advance. But the tension around his shoulders is different now—coiled tighter, his movements edged with something I’ve never seen in him before.Focus.Not anger.Not fear.Focus sharpened to a point that feels dangerous.The motorcycle cuts through an intersection, and I tighten my arms around him as the wind rushes past us. He leans slightly into the next turn, and I move with him instinctively—not because I understand the movement, but because something inside me pulls me into the same rhy
CHOSEN FOR THE ALPHA Chapter 40
LYON’S POVThe moment Theressa confirms the presence felt closer, the world narrows into a single line of instinct. Not panic. Not fear. Precision. A predator’s clarity. Everything else fades—noise, cold, distance—and the only things left are her breath behind me and the subtle pressure in the air tracking our next move.“We’re leaving,” I say, voice low, steady.Theressa’s fingers tighten around mine as I lead her toward the motorcycle. Not out of dependency—she’s not clinging—but because something inside her recognizes the shift in the atmosphere as clearly as I do.They’re closing in.Faster than expected.Closer than safe.When we reach the bike, I let go of her hand just long enough to pull the helmet from the side compartment.She shakes her head. “I don’t need—”“You do,” I say, placing it over her hands firmly. “Put it on.”She doesn’t argue this time. She slips it on with slightly trembling fingers, and I can feel her breath from where I stand—uneven, controlled, fighting not
CHOSEN FOR THE ALPHA Chapter 39
THERESSA’S POVThe farther we get from my neighborhood, the more the world begins to feel unfamiliar. Not because the streets are different—these are roads I’ve taken a hundred times, intersections I could navigate with my eyes closed—but because everything around me feels like it’s holding its breath. As if the world is aware of something I can’t fully see yet, something pacing along the edges of the horizon, waiting for the right moment to step into the open.My arms stay wrapped around Lyon’s waist as the motorcycle slices through the morning air. The city blurs past us in muted streaks of gray and pale yellow. The cold wind catches the edges of my hair and pulls them back, and beneath the noise of the engine, I hear my own heartbeat thrumming too fast against my ribs.I don’t know if it’s fear.Or anticipation.Or whatever is happening inside me.But it’s loud.Too loud.Lyon doesn’t speak.He keeps one hand steady on the throttle and the other loose enough to adjust his balance w
CHOSEN FOR THE ALPHA Chapter 38
LYON’S POVThe moment we step out of the house, the air shifts.Not because of wind—there is none.Not because of sound—everything is too quiet for that.But because leaving the threshold feels like crossing from one reality into another, a place where the edges of the world sharpen in ways most people never notice.Theressa walks beside me, her bag slung over one shoulder, her steps measured but tight. She doesn’t cling to me, doesn’t hover too close, but every few seconds her gaze flicks toward the street, checking corners the way someone does after learning the world no longer moves innocently around them.Her senses are sharper today.More awake.More aware.And that alone presses a weight into my chest—not because it’s wrong, but because it’s happening faster than it should.Zeo stirs inside me, restless and alert.“They were here recently,” he says.I don’t disagree.I don’t need to.The residue of presence is faint but unmistakable. The type of scent that’s not a scent at all—m
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