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Chapter Twenty-nine
Last Updated:
2025-08-21 23:24:43
Latest chapter
Mated to Three Alphas Chapter Thirty-one
Lyra’s POV He was alive. He wasn't broken, and he wasn't dead. He just stood there, looking at me with a knowing glint in his eyes. He knelt down to me and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. It’s all part of the plan.” "How?" I choked out, tears finally streaming down my face. "What is this? How are you alive? He only smiled, a genuine, joyful smile that I hadn’t seen since before the fight. It was a smile that told me he had this planned all along, a calculated deception that had fooled everyone. I was afraid, but Kyle had told me not to be. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and relief, but his calm presence was a lifeline. He explained that he needed everyone to believe he was dead. It was the only way to end the confrontation, the constant threat of war. When I asked him how they hadn't figured it out, how no one had noticed, he just smirked. "I paid a doppelgänger," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Turns out, there are plenty of men as handsome as
Mated to Three Alphas Chapter Thirty
Lyra’s Pov Later that night, I sat alone in a small, dusty room that had once belonged to Kyle. The room was sparsely furnished, but it still held the lingering scent of him. It was all I had left. I had been escorted there by a few of Damian’s men, and a guard now stood outside my door. I was a prisoner. A knock on the door made me jump. “It’s me, Lyra. Jax.” I opened the door, a flicker of hope in my eyes. “Jax, what are you doing here?” “I had to see you. I’m sorry, Lyra. We tried to stop him.” I shook my head. “You couldn’t. You would have died.” “I know.” He looked at me, his eyes full of sorrow. “We’re still loyal to Kyle. The pack is divided. Half of us are with Damian, but the other half… we still remember Kyle’s rule. We don’t trust Damian.” “What can we do?” I asked, my voice a desperate plea. “He’s the Alpha now. He controls everything.” “We’ll figure something out. But for now… you have to be careful. He’s going to want to claim you soon.” I shudd
Mated to Three Alphas Chapter Twenty-nine
POV: Lyra The roar of the crowd was a physical force, a tidal wave of sound that I felt in my bones. I stood at the edge of the fighting pit, the cheers for Kyle and Damian a deafening cacophony. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of dread and a faint flicker of hope. I watched as Kyle entered the pit, his gaze sweeping the crowd before settling on me. A confident, easy smile touched his lips, a stark contrast to the grim tension I felt. Then Damian walked in. His expression was a stone wall, his eyes giving away nothing. He didn’t look at me, didn’t acknowledge anyone. He just walked to his side of the pit and waited. The air crackled with anticipation, the crowd's energy a palpable, almost suffocating weight. Dominic, Kyle’s father and the current Alpha, stepped forward. His voice, amplified by his Alpha power, cut through the noise. “The rules are simple. This is a fight to the death. No weapons. No powers. The last man standing wins Lyra’s hand and becom
Mated to Three Alphas Chapter Twenty-eight
POV: Damon The dungeons were a pit of despair, and I walked into it with a purpose that felt like a lie. Alpha Dominic had sent me down here, his real intention clear—he wanted Vivian killed. Permanently. He had given her just enough time to break, to crumble into madness, before sending me down to finish the job. He knew I was a cold, unfeeling thing, a man who had no problem with death. He trusted me to do his dirty work. He thought I was just like him. He was wrong. I walked in, the stench of stale water and old blood filling my nose, expecting to carry out that order. But Vivian was already halfway to madness. She was a ruin, a ghost of the cunning, cruel maid I had once known. Dirty, unkempt, and barely clinging to sanity, she didn’t waste a second on greetings or questions. The moment she saw me, she started ranting, a torrent of secrets and lies spilling out of her mouth like the walls of her mind were finally closing in. "He sent you, didn't he?" she screamed, her voice
Mated to Three Alphas Chapter Twenty-seven
POV: Lyra The power surged through me, a wild, untamed thing that had just killed a man. I stood over Michael Luparcal’s lifeless body, my hands still faintly glowing, the enchanted ring clutched tight in my palm. The scent of his death, a thick, metallic coppery smell, filled the air. I knew, with a chilling certainty, that I had to run. My cover was blown. My wolf, a silent, terrified part of me, was now a beacon, a scream in the darkness that every Alpha would hear. I didn't waste another second. I shoved the ring back on my finger, a futile gesture, and bolted for the door. The sound of my own heart, a frantic drum against my ribs, was the only thing I could hear. I ran through the maze of corridors, past the empty rooms and the silent doors, heading for the main exit. But before I could reach it, a group of men blocked my path. They weren’t Kyle’s men, and they weren’t Michael’s. They were different. Their scent was familiar, a scent I had come to associate with both danger a
Mated to Three Alphas Chapter Twenty-six
Lyra’s POV The world was a blur of motion, a jarring ride in a wagon that smelled of sour beer and sweat. I was blindfolded, my hands bound, and every bump in the road sent a jolt of fear through me. I didn't know who had taken me. The last thing I remembered was the toll collector's trembling hands and the look of pure terror in his eyes. I had expected Damian. I had almost hoped for him, despite everything. But the men who grabbed me were not his. They were rougher, smelling of old leather and stale pipe smoke, and their silence was more unnerving than any threat could have been. When the wagon finally stopped and they removed the blindfold, I found myself in a different kind of prison. The building was large, made of dark wood and stone, and it hummed with the low, insidious energy of a pack I didn't recognize. I was pulled out of the wagon and led inside, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. My captor, the man who had pulled me from the toll collector’s shack, was a pack el
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