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The Witness
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2026-04-04 22:22:11
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Fated to my Alpha nemesis Condemned by My Own Voice
The Alpha’s eyes are immovable, piercing, pulling at me with a weight I can’t fight. I can't understand. I contemplate if he hates me more for my father's sins or because I'm human.Mum hand grips my wrist. Hard. Too hard. Pain shoots up my arm. I bite back a gasp. Her nails dig into my skin like a lifeline. Or a warning. Almost enough to draw blood.I swallow hard. My legs move before my mind catches up.She lets go. Reluctantly.My legs feel like stone. Every step toward the dais echoes in my skull, each footfall a drumbeat of judgment.The air is thick—thick with expectation, with accusation, with history.Every eye in the chamber follows my every motion.When I get to the dais I look up to meet Dad's eyes.He looks shocked. Confused. Suprised. Hurt.I try to tell him with my eyes that's I wouldn't betray him.That I had no idea.That I was so clueless as to what was going on.I look away from dad, not sure if he saw what I was trying to show him.The chamber feels smaller someho
Fated to my Alpha nemesis The Witness
The trial chamber is a massive room carved into the lower level of the pack house.Not a dungeon. Not a prison.Something worse.I have been here once before. Years ago. When a man was tried for sneaking his human slave to one of the distant human settlements without permission. He claimed he was setting her free.He was charged with unlawful removal of pack property and unauthorized transport of a human asset beyond pack jurisdiction.He was made an example of.I remember the sound of his mate screaming when the verdict was delivered.This room does not forget.The trial chamber is deliberate.Stone walls curve in a perfect half-circle around a raised platform where the Alpha sits, a throne carved into shadowed stone. The floor is polished slate, dark enough to reflect shadows but not faces. Torches burn along the walls—not because the room needs light, but because tradition demands fire witness judgment.Six council members sit in a crescent beneath the Alpha’s dais. Silent. Severe.
Fated to my Alpha nemesis Pretending to Function
The three days pass in a blur of motion, voices, and tears. I stare at the midnight blue, knee-length dress laid carefully across the bed and try not to think about anything except the fabric. The halter neckline. The almost nonexistent sleeves. The way the blue catches the sunlight and shines when I hold it juust so. It gleams like something meant for celebration. It is beautiful. I don’t want to look beautiful at my father’s trial. THREE DAYS BEFORE THE TRIAL After Damon left me in the hallway, I waited. I half expected guards to come for me. To drag me away and throw me into a cell for daring to lay hands on the Alpha’s son. It hadn’t been training. It hadn’t been controlled. I had meant to hurt him. I had meant to do damage that couldn’t be undone. Surely that was reason enough to lock me up. I slid down the marble wall and sat there, legs sprawled, staring at nothing. Minutes passed. Maybe hours. No one came. When it became clear that no one was going to arrest me, I
Fated to my Alpha nemesis I hate you
He sees my fist coming. I know he does. He doesn't move. My fist connects with his jaw. His head jerks sideways, but he doesn’t flinch beyond the motion of the hit or retaliate. Just watches me, calm, almost too calm. I strike again, harder this time. A blow to the chest. He rocks backward, but still no counter. And again. My knuckles sting, my shoulders scream. I’m a storm of fury, fueled by rage and grief. “You. Lied. To. Me.” I punctuate each word with a strike. By the fourth hit, he catches my fist with one hand. His grip is like iron, halting my momentum. I twist, trying to throw an elbow, but he pivots, body coiled, eyes sharp. “You said you would keep it a secret.” I lunge, knees low, feet moving fast. He sidesteps a jab, but I can see it—his right side pulls slightly, a fraction of hesitation. I don’t dwell. I exploit it. I sweep low, aiming for his ribs. He shifts weight to his left, grunting. I follow, spinning into a knee strike. His forearm blocks, but my e
Fated to my Alpha nemesis Flying fists
I gasp.Dad's cheek is swollen. One eye rimmed dark. There’s a bruise spreading along his jaw like spilled ink. His lip is split. Dried blood stains the collar of his shirt.But it’s his expression that steals the air from my lungs.Not anger.Not calculation.Not even fear.Resignation.“It’s no use, Mia.”The words are quiet.Steady. Weak. All at once.“What are you talking about?” My voice cracks. “Of course it’s not. I just told you—we can get out. We just have to move now.”“My trial is in three days.”I stare at him.“If they decide execution,” he continues, like he’s reciting policy. Like he is certain this is how this will play out, “it will be carried out immediately.”The corridor feels colder.My fingers tighten around the bars of his cell.“And if they don’t?” I demand. Expression grave.“Then I will probably be moved to the permanent cells and remain there for the rest of my life.”“No.” I shake my head. “No, you’re the Beta. You’ve served this pack for years. You can’t j
Fated to my Alpha nemesis The Holding Cells
Before the pack guards can find us and drag us to Goddess knows where, I get Talia out of the house. We don’t use the front door. That'd be foolish. I keep to the back corridors, listening for boots, for voices, for the scrape of authority moving through the house. Talia clings to my hand, silent now, but trembling. We slip through the rear entrance and cut across the neighboring yard. I don’t stop until Cole’s house comes into view. He isn’t home. Of course he isn’t. I know where he keeps the spare key. My hands shake as I retrieve the key from where he hides it, tucked beneath the loose stone beside the steps. I shove the door open and pull Talia inside. Safe. For now. I sit Talia on the couch. “Tell me exactly what happened,” I say. Her voice breaks halfway through. She has to start over twice. I let her. I need every detail. When she’s finished, her eyes are swollen and red, but she’s breathing more steadily. “You’ll be okay here,” I tell her. “Lock the door behin
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