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One hundred and one
Last Updated:
2025-02-23 03:44:38
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Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and two
Lianna: I hadn’t closed my eyes since yesterday, and now, as dawn broke through the darkness outside, the pack was in disarray. Everything was getting worse and it wasn't even up to two days yet. What the hell was going on? I sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the silk sheets between my fingers as my jaw tightened in frustration. I could hear guards rushing through corridors, their voices rising in urgency. Something was wrong. Very wrong. And yet, here I was, locked away like some fragile thing that needed to be protected. Edward had ordered me to stay inside, and had even placed guards at the door to ensure I wouldn’t leave. The thought alone made my blood simmer with anger. Ingrid sat across from me, wrapped in a blanket. Her skin was damp with sweat. The fever had plagued her all night, yet she looked slightly better now—still pale, but more alert than before. She watched me carefully, her tired eyes fighting to stay awake . “You’re burning a hole th
Last Updated : 2025-02-24Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and three
Lianna: The moment we stepped into the hospital, I noticed the shift in atmosphere. Everything felt hauntingly different. It was overpowering, carrying the pungent scent of antiseptic, sweat, and something far worse—the unmistakable stench of death. The halls were filled with people. Some crying, some groaning in pain, others lying still in death. The soft wails of grieving families, the coughs of the sick. It all made me sick. My stomach twisted at the sight of a woman kneeling beside a stretcher, clutching the lifeless body of what looked like her mate, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Ingrid exhaled beside me, a shaky breath that barely masked her distress. “You were right to come here.” I pressed my lips together, my jaw tightening as we moved deeper into the chaos. “I act on impulse,” I admitted, keeping my voice even, “but it’s never been the wrong course—just the wrong person running with me.” Ingrid gave a weak chuckle, but there was no rea
Last Updated : 2025-02-25Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and four
Freya: I lay sprawled on my bed, silk sheets cool against my bare skin, as I listened to the endless shouts from the palace corridors. The cries of the sick, the hurried footsteps of frightened servants, the urgency in the voices of the guards as they struggled to maintain order—it was all delicious. I bit down on my lower lip, suppressing the grin that threatened to stretch across my face. The outbreak had begun the moment they carried Alistair’s corpse away. What they didn't know was that his lifeless body was nothing more than a vessel of decay and disease. I imagined the horror on their faces when the first symptoms appeared, the way their hands trembled as they reached for their swords—useless against an enemy they couldn't fight. And while they ran in circles, desperately trying to contain the inevitable, I had locked myself away, safe. Dipping my fingers into a small porcelain jar, I scooped out a thick, herbal-scented ointment and smeared it over my wri
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and five
Edward: The garden was meant to be a surprise. A hidden sanctuary built just for her. I ran a hand along the smooth bark of an ash tree, inhaling the crisp scent of damp earth and the faint, lingering aroma of night-blooming jasmine. The air was fresh, cool from the recent rainfall, carrying a hint of petrichor that made the entire garden feel untouched and sacred. Lianna would have loved it. I had imagined showing it to her last night, watching her expression shift from curiosity to wonder as she took in the stone pathways, the soft lantern glow, the intricate carvings on the wooden benches I had designed myself. But instead, she had learned the truth—about Alistair’s death, about the heartbreak that I hadn’t wanted to burden her with. I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as I lowered onto the stone bench near the fountain. She had been furious with me. A true Luna through and through. Even when I would have preferred to take control, to handle everyt
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Lianna: I stormed into my chambers, slamming the door behind me. My hands trembled as I paced from one end of the room to the other, in my mind, an endless loop of that scene—Freya in Edward’s arms, her head buried in his chest like she belonged there replayed in my mind. My stomach twisted. It doesn’t matter. I told myself that over and over again. It meant nothing. Edward hadn’t initiated it. He wouldn’t— But why did I care? I clenched my jaw, running a hand through my hair. I feel nothing for him. That had been my truth for so long, my shield against the truth I was running from. Although he was kind to me, he was still the brother of my ex-husband and there was a contract binding our agreement. But the moment I saw Freya touching him, something inside me snapped. A knock sounded before Ingrid walked in, her presence familiar, grounding. The moment I saw her, the words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I saw Edward hugging Freya.” Ingrid rai
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and seven
Lianna: The corridors felt colder than usual and the ambient lights cast elongated shadows against the stone walls as I made my way back to my chambers. My boots echoed softly, the sound swallowed by the vast emptiness stretching ahead. I tried to push down the tightness in my chest, the dull ache that had settled there ever since Edward stormed off earlier today. I had made a mistake. I should have never suggested something so thoughtless—something that would push him away. But I had, and now, I was paying for it. I was so lost in thought that I nearly missed the figure leaning lazily against the stone archway ahead. Freya. The dim lighting cast an eerie glow over her face, sharpening the cruel amusement in her icy blue eyes. She tilted her head slightly, the movement almost feline, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. "Rough day, Your Highness?" she purred, voice dripping with false sweetness. I didn’t stop. I didn’t even acknowledge her.
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Lianna: I told myself I would do everything to win Edward’s forgiveness. I had to. I couldn’t let this stretch into another day, couldn’t let him stay mad at me—not like this. Not when the distance between us felt like a chasm I might never be able to cross. As I stood before the mirror, I smoothed my hands over the fabric of my gown, one Edward had always admired. Deep crimson, rich as the finest wine, with delicate gold embroidery tracing its edges like fire licking at the hem of a candle. The bodice hugged my figure, the off-the-shoulder sleeves leaving my collarbones exposed—the way he had always said he liked. I reached for my perfume, dabbing the fragrant oil along my wrists and neck, the scent of jasmine and bergamot wrapping around me like a familiar embrace. Ingrid watched from where she reclined on my chaise, one brow arched in amusement. “You do realize dressing up won’t magically make him forgive you, right?” I threw her a look. She wasn't helping matters r
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Lianna: The wind howled through the trees, a cold, merciless force that cut against my skin like the sharp edge of a blade. My cloak billowed behind me as my horse tore through the forest, hooves pounding against the damp earth in a relentless rhythm. The scent of pine and wet soil filled my lungs, but it did nothing to ground me. If felt rage burning through my veins like wildfire. Edward. My grip tightened around the reins, leather biting into my palms. The memory of his laughter at dinner clawed at my mind, an nagging image that refused to fade. The way his lips had curled into a slow, deliberate smile when he spoke to Freya. "That color suits you." I gritted my teeth. I wanted to fucking kill him. A laugh broke from my lips, sharp and bitter. No, I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t. This wasn’t about her. It wasn’t about the way he looked at her, or the way she fluttered her lashes as if she were some delicate fucking thing. It was about me. It was a
Last Updated : 2025-02-26
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Revenge on my Alpha husband Two hundred and seven
Edward: I didn’t think I had ever had a good time like that in my entire goddamn life. Seated on my ridiculous golden throne, which, by the way, I had told them was unnecessary but they had insisted like it was some sacred tradition, I watched the sea of smiling faces parading before me. Everyone looked genuinely happy to see me, like they were actually proud, and for the life of me, I couldn’t even pretend to be my usual sarcastic self. The grin splitting my face was impossible to contain. It felt ridiculous, too wide, too bright, but hell if I cared. My chest was warm, my fingers were drumming lightly against the armrest in time to the soft thrum of music weaving through the air. The scent of fresh flowers... roses, gardenias, something Lianna had picked, I was sure drifted through the hall, blending with the mouth-watering smell of pastries and meat pies and the sharp tang of aged wine. A few of the Alpha Kings I was c
Revenge on my Alpha husband Two hundred and six
Edward: “How the hell is she able to be this bubbly after she almost died yesterday?” Harvey muttered, leaning forward against the iron railing of the gallery. I stood beside him, arms loosely folded, my gaze drawn down to where Lianna moved like a wildfire in silk. She was everywhere at once, barking out orders to the kitchen staff, laughing too loudly at something one of the guards said, twirling away from an apprentice who nearly dropped a tray of wine glasses at her feet. Her hair whipped behind her like a banner, her cheeks flushed with life. She looked damn good doing it too. She looked alive, radiant, and unstoppable. And that made me damn rock hard. I felt my mouth curl into a slow, uncontrollable smile. “She’s Lianna,” I said simply, voice low, almost reverent. “Death’s scared of her, not the other way around.” Harvey shook his head with a chuckle, but his eyes stayed trained on her too, like he couldn’t help himself. Ingrid’s heels clicked ag
Revenge on my Alpha husband Two hundred and five
Edward: The podium felt colder than it should have. Maybe it was just me. Hell, maybe it was the goddamn nerves humming under my skin, crackling through my bloodstream like I’d swallowed a live wire. I adjusted the heavy folds of my coat, brushing the fabric smooth with my palms. The leather was stiff under my fingertips, polished to perfection, but it didn’t ease the tension straining my spine. Harvey was a silent shadow at my back, his presence a steady weight between my shoulder blades. Good. I needed that anchor right now. The crowd before me shifted, a sea of bodies cloaked in muted colors and apprehensive whispers. I stepped forward, feeling the wood of the podium creak beneath my boots, and cleared my throat, the sound slicing through the low murmur of voices. "Good morning," I began. It was the kind of voice that made people lean in even if they didn’t trust a damn word coming out of your mouth. "I want to start by apologizing for dragging you all out here toda
Revenge on my Alpha husband Two hundred and four
Lianna: I adjusted Edward’s collar, tugging it with the kind of care a surgeon might use when slicing open a patient. His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, and he stared at me like I’d just announced I was going to crown myself Empress of the Seven Kingdoms. "You know," he muttered, a lopsided smirk tugging at his mouth, "you’re acting like this is some royal wedding, not just a boring speech in the town square." I laughed under my breath, smoothing down the front of his jacket with a few sharp swipes. The fabric was rich under my palms. It was soft, expensive, and a little smug, just like him. "Oh, it is a royal wedding, Eddie," I said sweetly. "Between you, destiny, and whatever chaos we manage to unleash today." He rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might actually fall out of his head. "Should’ve known you were secretly trying to become an influencer," he grumbled. "Just this once," I quipped, giving the lapels one final, overly dramatic flourish. "I
Revenge on my Alpha husband Two hundred and three
Freya: I was deep in the middle of a very satisfying drea. It was a dream about me on a deserted island, no nagging voices, no endless plans for world domination, when the knocking started. It was persistent enough to rattle the door on its hinges. I groaned into my pillow, dragging the blanket over my head like that flimsy piece of fabric would somehow drown out the inevitable reality waiting for me on the other side. No such luck. The knocking only grew louder, like a war drum signaling my doom. "Gods," I hissed under my breath, pushing myself upright. My muscles protested. I rubbed at my eyes, feeling the crust of exhaustion scraping against my lashes. Another knock. This time, it shook the whole damn doorframe. "I'm coming!" I snapped, stumbling toward the door, the wooden floor cold against my bare feet. I yanked it open with a sharp tug, blinking against the blinding hallway light, and there she was. My mother. Standing in a fury, arms crossed so tightly
Revenge on my Alpha husband Two hundred and two
Lianna: The solar was soaked in gold. Thick streams of morning sunlight pouring through the wide windows, catching on the dust motes that floated lazily in the warm air. I curled further into the deep cushions of the settee, absently twirling the stem of my empty goblet between my fingers, feeling the slight slickness of glass warmed by my palm. Edward sat across from me, long legs sprawled out, shirt sleeves rolled up in that reckless way that always made my blood simmer. The door creaked open and one of the maids stepped in, the rustle of her skirts brushing against the polished floors. She bowed slightly. "My Lord, My Lady. The announcement has been made. About the address at the market square." I straightened, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "Did they make it obvious that I wouldn’t be there?" "Yes, my Lady," she nodded briskly. "It was made clear you are away visiting family." "Perfect," I m
Revenge on my Alpha husband Two hundred and one
Lianna: The morning sun spilled into the room entirely too bright for someone who’d just woken up. But I didn’t mind. I felt good. Better than I had in days. My limbs didn’t feel like they were filled with cement, my head wasn’t throbbing, and I wasn’t sweating through every damn sheet like I was trapped in a sauna sent from hell. No, this morning… I felt like myself again. Whole. Dangerous. Alive. I swung my legs off the bed, the marble floor biting cold against my bare feet. The silk robe I grabbed clung to my damp skin as I shrugged into it, its texture like water slipping between my fingers. The air smelled of fresh linen and pinewood, soft and crisp, and when I tied the robe around my waist, something fluttered in my chest. Excitement. Finally. I could train again. I didn’t get far before a voice groaned behind me. “Lianna… what the hell are you doing?” I turned, caught mid-step, with my hair messy, one knee bent, and my hand halfway to the doorknob. E
Revenge on my Alpha husband Two hundred
Lianna: I stirred to the sound of rustling fabric and the gentle weight of a hand on mine. My eyelids blinked open slowly. The low amber glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in warm shadows. He was sitting right beside me, elbow propped on the bed, fingers trailing across my knuckles with an almost reverent tenderness. The second our eyes met, the tension on his face cracked and melted into a soft smile. "You're awake," he whispered, voice hoarse and threaded with relief. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead, one hand sliding up to cradle my cheek. "How do you feel, my warrior queen?" I let out a soft groan, stretching slowly as though my bones had been carved from old stone. “Like someone beat me with a broomstick, then threw me into a pit full of sorrow and set it on fire. But thank you for asking.” He chuckled, eyes scanning my face. “Your colour’s back. You had me panicking. You actu
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and ninety nine
Lianna: I’d fought wars with blood in my teeth and lightning in my palms. I had come out bruised, singed, but never like this. Never this empty. It was like something had drained the marrow from my bones, like my soul had been sifted through a sieve and discarded for sport. I wasn’t just tired, I was hollowed out. My eyelids felt like lead but lifted slowly at the sound of faint incantations. It was low and rhythmic, the syllables curling into my ears like smoke. My vision blurred, then sharpened around the figure of a woman draped in charcoal grey, her fingers twinkling with tiny, glowing sigils. I blinked once, twice. Ah. The Pack Witch. Relief loosened something in my chest, but I didn’t let it show. I hated looking fragile, even though I currently felt like someone had taken a hammer to every joint in my body. “Still alive, I see,” I murmured, my voice raspy and dry like parchment left in the sun. “Congratulations. You all didn’t kill me with your fretting.”
