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CHAPTER 113

Author: CagalieYula
last update Last Updated: 2025-11-04 19:56:37

The name tore from my throat, a raw, final offering to the uncaring sky. It was not a call for rescue. It was a declaration. A testament that even here, at the end, I was his, and he was mine.

I braced for the bite of the axe, for the cold kiss of the block.

It never came.

Instead, the world… shivered.

It was a subtle thing at first. A tremor in the stone beneath my knees. A flicker in the light, as if the sun had blinked. The descending axe seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second, its edge hanging in the air.

Then, the sky tore open.

Directly above the courtyard, a wound ripped in the fabric of reality. It wasn't the elegant, controlled breach Lyra could create. This was violent, jagged, and screaming with raw, untamed power. The color leached from the world, everything cast in the stark, monochrome light of a dead star.

From the heart of the tear, a figure fell.

It was a man. He landed on the platform between me and the executioner with a crash that shattered the wooden planks
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  • THE SUBSTITUTE MATE FOR THE ALPHA KING   Kairi’s POV - Epilogue

    The world didn’t end with a big noise or a scary silence. It ended with a warm, quiet feeling of home. It ended with the happy rumble in my own chest, a sound that shook the wood of our little house.Peace isn’t something you just have. It’s a place. You have to guard it, mark its edges, keep watch. The Blandness, and that cold Chrome thing behind it, weren’t gone. You can’t kill an idea. But you can make a home so full of life that the idea has nowhere to stand. We did that.My study used to be a quiet place for old scrolls and unbreakable rules. Now, it’s a map room of our loud, messy, happy life. Lyra’s drawings of how roots grow are stuck next to Silas’s charts of bird songs, and my own notes on how to keep our little piece of the world safe. On the biggest wall, there’s a drawing in a frame. Lyra drew it. It’s Sze, asleep in a sunbeam, a piece of his wild hair over the mark on his shoulder. I wrote around the edges, not laws, but the names of things we love: The sound of a breaki

  • THE SUBSTITUTE MATE FOR THE ALPHA KING   CHAPTER 191

    The silence in the cottage after our return was heavy, but it wasn't the Blandness. It was the quiet of a storm passed, leaving us all bruised and reeling. I stood by the hearth, the weight of the Chrome Figure's words a leaden reality in my gut. A faulty copy. A ghost of a noise.I stared into the flames, seeing not fire, but the sterile, mirrored surface that had shown my reflection—my real reflection—overlaid with Lyra’s. The same constellation of marks on the shoulder. A Maker’s sigil. A brand of origin.Kairi was a vortex of restless energy. He couldn't stop. The mystery had reshaped itself, and him with it. His usual crisp movements were jagged, his Lawgiver’s composure frayed at the edges."The paradox isn't just stable," he growled, the word low and rough, more animal than academic. He paced, a caged thing. "It's feral. It shouldn't exist, but it does. It has teeth." He stopped, pinning me with a gaze that was no longer dissecting, but… hunting. "Your storms were never just we

  • THE SUBSTITUTE MATE FOR THE ALPHA KING   CHAPTER 190

    The word—RECALIBRATION—wasn’t a sound. It was a concept stamped directly onto my consciousness, cold and sterile as a surgical steel tray. The Conductor, now a mere baton in the chrome figure’s grip, hummed with subdued, obedient energy.My brain stuttered, trying to process the new threat. “Okay,” I breathed, my voice the only ragged, human thing in the crushing silence. “He brought his manager.”The Chrome Figure’s head tilted the other way. Another word formed in our minds: “ANOMALIES. PATTERN: PERSISTENT. SOURCE: PROXIMATE TO EPICENTER.” Its blank face-plate swept over us, pausing on Lyra, then on me. A longer pause. A series of quick, precise pulses, like a scanner, washed over my skin.Lyra had her knife out, but her hand was shaking. Kairi was paralyzed, not by fear, but by a Lawgiver’s rapt horror at this new, terrible logic. Silas simply looked like he wanted to be sick.“QUERY,” the concept bloomed. It was aimed at me. “IDENTIFY CONTAMINATION VECTOR.”“My winning personality

  • THE SUBSTITUTE MATE FOR THE ALPHA KING   CHAPTER 189

    The victory hangover was worse than any cheap ale. It wasn't the pleasant ache of muscles used, but a deep, psychic fatigue, as if our souls had been stretched and snapped back. For two days, we moved through the cottage like ghosts, jumping at ordinary shadows. The silence we’d won felt fragile, a soap bubble balanced on a spike.Kairi, of course, refused to rest. He’d swapped the spinning battle-sigils for a new obsession: the paradox.“It wasn’t just an absence,” he muttered, hunched over a slate covered in self-erasing chalk-runes. “It was a structured absence. A negation with intent. A logical weapon. If we could replicate it without requiring you to have traumatic amnesia, Sze…”“Please don’t,” I said from the hearth, where I was listlessly poking the fire. Every pop and crackle still sounded like a minor miracle. “I’m not keen on having more bits of me carved out to make metaphysical scalpels. I’m running low on fond childhood memories as it is.”“We wouldn’t use your memories.

  • THE SUBSTITUTE MATE FOR THE ALPHA KING   CHAPTER 188

    The riot was winning. The Conductor’s form, that pillar of austere simplification, was churning like a grey storm cloud, unable to coalesce against the hurricane of our specific, stubborn noise. We were a beautiful, deafening mess.And then, it *changed*.It didn't retreat. It didn't attack. It *adapted*. The churning grey solidified into a new shape: a smooth, featureless oval, like a giant, blank lens. And it turned its non-face toward the heart of our noise.Toward Lyra.A single, pure tone emanated from it. Not loud. Not a silencing wave. It was a clear, piercing note, a perfect middle C that cut through our cacophony like a scalpel. And as it touched the edges of our riotous energy, something horrible happened.*Harmonization.*Our glorious, clashing discord—Silas's raspberry, my yelling, Kairi's shouted laws—didn't vanish. It was *subsumed*. Drawn into that single note, smoothed out, simplified into a bland, consonant harmony that supported the central tone. Our noise was being

  • THE SUBSTITUTE MATE FOR THE ALPHA KING   CHAPTER 187

    A week of quiet, and the waiting had become its own kind of torture. The air itself felt thin, stretched taut by expectation. Kairi’s declaration of ‘crescendo’ had morphed from a battle cry into a grinding routine of preparation. We weren’t just sharpening knives; we were sharpening ourselves.“The Conductor operates on a principle of enforced simplicity,” Kairi lectured one evening, a complex, three-dimensional chart of interlocking sigils spinning lazily above the table. It was a map of our collective ‘noise-profile.’ “Our counter must be orchestrated complexity. We need a piece. A performance so layered with specific, identity-saturated meaning it will act as a metaphysical battering ram.”“A piece?” I echoed, stirring a stew that smelled of resentment and root vegetables. “You want us to put on a play for the existential bleach salesman?”“Not a play. A cantata. A story told in multiple, simultaneous voices—yours, Lyra’s, Silas’s, mine, Maia’s. A story he cannot simplify without

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