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The Final Betrayal
Last Updated:
2025-11-04 00:20:34
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The Crippled Masked Alpha The Final Betrayal
[Anya’s POV]The armored escape car sped away from the glittering, shattered chaos of the Crystalwood Ballroom. The adrenaline that had fueled my voice during the scream and my body during the retreat was now receding, leaving me shaking, weak, and cold. I was no longer the frightened Luna, but I wasn't entirely the fearless partner either. My heart hammered against the cold obsidian of the Band on my finger, marking the frantic rhythm of survival.Ronan sat beside me, no longer the crippled figure, but a man coiled tight with controlled power. He hadn't spoken since we left the perimeter, his focus entirely on the reports coming through the comms. Alaric was in the driver’s seat, his face a mask of granite, coordinating the cleanup and the official story for the media (the official line would be a "rogue pack disturbance," protecting Ronan's lie for now).The silence was suffocating. I needed to act before the shock paralyzed me. I reached into my hand and pulled out the small, damp
The Crippled Masked Alpha The Decoy and the escape
[Alpha Ronan Thorne’s POV]The impact of the sniper’s shot, a sharp, muffled CRACK! was followed by the sickening sound of plaster and glass showering onto the velvet carpet. I lay low behind the toppled velvet partition, my heart hammering a furious rhythm against my ribs. I was breathing hard, the transition from the defeated cripple to the combat-ready Alpha having cost me valuable cover. My physical strength was exposed to any high-level Vorlag agent still active in the room.The immediate conflict was absolute. I had time for two objectives: secure the intelligence (Caleb) and ensure my Luna’s safety. The sniper, who was neutralized moments later by Alaric's perimeter teams, was a secondary concern."Sniper down! Alpha, what is your status?" Alaric's voice screamed through the comms, laced with panic."Containment," I bit out, my voice rough. "Caleb is the priority. He's at the main doors."Anya's scream, her brilliant, life-saving shriek of "Fire!", had bought me the necessary s
The Crippled Masked Alpha The Aftermath of the Lie
Chapter 30: The Aftermath of the Lie[Alpha Ronan Thorne’s POV]The air in the Crystalwood Ballroom tasted like burnt gunpowder and panicked adrenaline. I stood, breathing hard, concealed partially by the heavy velvet curtain where the sniper had just been neutralized. My cover, the carefully maintained facade of the "crippled Alpha" was compromised, but my life, and the political document Anya had secured, were intact. The immediate conflict was absolute: I had to revert to the cripple before any remaining witness could confirm my strength."Alpha!" Alaric’s voice was a sharp hiss in my comms. "Containment is active! Get back in the chair! Now!"I didn't argue. With a silent curse, I forced my powerful legs to transition, pushing myself back into the abandoned wheelchair. I slumped my shoulders, letting my head hang slightly, immediately adopting the posture of a man severely weakened by the shock of the attack. The speed of my recovery was irrelevant; the visual evidence was eve
The Crippled Masked Alpha The Sniper and the Subterfuge
[Anya’s POV]The ballroom had dissolved into a sea of confused faces and panicked whispers the moment Ronan began his loud, deliberate "coughing fit." His display of critical health was the perfect diversion, buying me the few precious seconds I needed to cross the floor. My heart hammered against the cold stone of the Obsidian Band on my finger, a relentless drumbeat marking the final minutes before midnight.I moved against the flow of the crowd, weaving past terrified society women and bewildered pack leaders who were rushing toward the perceived source of danger, Ronan’s collapsing form. I was a phantom in the emerald gown, my focus absolute, my eyes fixed on the shadows beneath the elevated balcony. I could still hear the frantic, muffled noise of Ronan's staged collapse, followed by the sound of the wheelchair crashing away, a sound I knew meant he had deployed his own powerful legs. He’s standing. He’s moving. I have to secure the sniper before he exposes himself.My only i
The Crippled Masked Alpha The Final Ten Minutes
[Alpha Ronan Thorne’s POV]The subtle nod Caleb gave the figure on the balcony was the clock striking midnight. The charade was over. The game had accelerated from surveillance to immediate execution. I felt Anya’s grip tighten on the handles of my wheelchair, her body tensing as she registered the finality of the threat.The immediate conflict was clear: I had to move from the "crippled Alpha" to a fighting Alpha without alerting the hundred terrified civilians or giving Caleb the advantage. I had to secure Anya and eliminate the sniper before the main doors locked at midnight. Ten minutes."Water," I rasped, my voice weak and strained, playing the final, critical act for the observers closest to us. "I need water, Anya. My chest... it's tightening."Anya, recognizing the code, leaned down, her emerald gown shielding our faces from the immediate crowd. Her breath was warm against my ear. "Sniper confirmed, Alpha. Balcony, top tier. Caleb is moving toward the exit.""Secure the
The Crippled Masked Alpha The Ghost of the Past
[Anya’s POV]My body was a beautifully engineered cage, confining my fury to a silent, constant hum beneath the surface of the emerald gown. I moved Ronan's wheelchair slowly through the crowded ballroom, my posture the picture of fragile, dutiful despair. The scent of champagne and political ambition was overwhelming, but I was focused entirely on maintaining the performance, the "grieving Luna" act that was necessary bait for Vorlag’s eyes. The smooth, cold Obsidian Band on my finger was the only physical reality, a constant reminder of the vow of focus I shared with the man in the mask.Then, the performance shattered.My eyes locked onto the main bar, near the opulent velvet curtains, and the blood drained from my face. Two people who, by all rights, should have been imprisoned or under house arrest, stood in the open, dressed in expensive civilian clothes, openly mocking Ronan’s security.Seraphina was at the center of a small, admiring circle of minor Alphas, draped in a sc
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