Her Alpha’s Chaos

Present Day LYRA "Lyra, stop!" My older brother, Alex's deep voice bellows through the training hall. The sound bounces off the brick walls and high ceilings, echoing through the large open space. In my periphery, I see some of the other warriors flinch, but I refuse to look up. Even as I hear Alex’s footsteps pounding closer, I ignore him. All I focus on is the erratic breathing of the male I’m currently straddling. The way his heart beats like a cornered animal. He’s fucking afraid, and I’m feeding off of it. The rage consumes me, my beast almost unleashed. I can already feel my nails shifting into claws, my canines lengthening. Just as I'm about to shove my hand into the warrior's chest, I'm gripped by the waist and hurled backwards. It takes me a few moments to realise that Alex is holding me tightly against his chest, pinning my arms at my sides as he wraps me in a ridiculous bear hug. I struggle against him, desperately trying to rip from his arms and grab the warrio

LYRAI sit in the back of the SUV, watching the trees blur past like green smudges on a canvas, but I’m not really looking at them. I’m too busy contemplating whether it’s too late to fling the car door open and hurl myself into the woods.Death by wolf-speed escape or dramatic forest collapse sounds preferable to whatever fresh hell awaits me at Zane Wynter’s doorstep. Alpha Asshole, King of Brooding, the musclebound enigma with ridiculous self-control, and gold eyes that make my spine shiver in all the wrong, and maybe a few of the right, ways.“Maybe I could just disappear,” I murmur to the window. “Live off berries. Talk to squirrels. Become a woodland creature.”“You wouldn’t last an hour,” Talia deadpans from beside me. She is the same age as Nova, both of them twenty-six. Only three years older than me, yet she's already been a Beta for five years. Yeah, we have some badass women in our pack. Right now, Talia is annoyingly relaxed, sprawled comfortably in the backseat, with her

LYRAMy heart skips a beat. And not the romantic kind. The kind that comes before you hit something.I stare at him. “What?”“You're here to train like a warrior… a soldier. Correct?”“Yeah…” He clenches my arm tighter for a second. Then drops it and takes a step back, looking down on me. “Then you will be treated as one.”His gaze is sharp. He doesn't blink, and I can feel the unease already coiling in my gut.“What are you talking about?” I ask sceptically. “You will be staying in the barracks with the other cadets.” I blink, trying to process if this is a joke. It has to be. Someone’s cruel prank. But his dead-serious face shatters that hope.“You’re fucking crazy. “This time, he snarls loudly, and that large hand clamps around my throat, applying just enough pressure to prove that it would be fucking easy for him to snap my neck. The air thins as his aura intensifies, and I feel that cold creeping up my spine again. My skin erupts in goosebumps, stemming from where his han

LYRAWe spent the entire morning training…Literally from five to twelve.I’ve never trained this much in my entire damn life, not even the week my mother tried to punish me for sneaking out to a nightclub at sixteen.By the time noon hits, every muscle in my body is trembling like a newborn deer on ice. Our head trainer enters with a clipboard in hand. She plants herself at the front of the hall, blows a whistle so sharp my soul flinches, and calls for attention. Silence drops over the hall the second the head trainer opens her mouth.No shouting. No theatrics. Just that quiet, heavy kind of silence that makes your spine straighten, whether you want it to or not.She starts by reminding us of the rules. Not that anyone needs reminding. It was all explained this morning. For the next three weeks, we’re being assessed constantly. Every exercise. Every drill. Every spar. Every mistake. Basically, everything we do is being watched, logged, and judged. And every day, we will be ranked.F

LYRAOur female packmates rush in, surrounding her, and their voices overlap. Orders, concern, panic. Within seconds, Tabitha is lifted and carried toward the med wing, leaving a thick silence in their wake.Nessa’s eyes meet mine across the mat. She doesn’t look surprised. Just… thoughtful. Like she expected this. Like she saw it coming. And I hate it. My beast is still close to the surface. I know my eyes are glowing, and her emotions are still all over the place. I do have some semblance of control… which just means I haven't removed anyone's head or heart.I try to take deep breaths. Watching the vulnerable positions of the women walking behind Tabitha. All the backs turned to me… all the exposed necks. “He’s going to hear about this.” Someone mutters from the side, pulling my attention from the sea of prey leaving the hall. I turn to face the line of male warriors across the floor, and their expressions range from wide-eyed shock to subtle winces of secondhand pain to full-on ju