All Chapters of Alpha Hugo - The Forced Rejection: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

From the shadows of a nearby alley, Bruce watched the bakery, his eyes narrowing as he observed Sarai laughing with customers. Each burst of her laughter was like a dagger twisting in his chest, igniting a firestorm of rage and bitterness that he couldn’t extinguish. The sight of her radiant smile, once something he cherished, now mocked him, reminding him of everything he had lost—and everything she had taken away. The sight of her radiant smile, so genuine and unguarded, sent a pang of something bitter and twisted through his chest. She had returned to her world, her sanctuary, surrounded by her cheerful customers and the sweet scent of pastries. But it wasn’t her joy that stoked the fire of his anger—it was the presence of others.Bruce’s gaze shifted to Ryker, who stood near the coffee shop, sipping from a steaming mug while keeping a watchful eye on Sarai. The soldier’s relaxed demeanor felt like an insult. How dare Ryker stand so casually in a role that should have been

Bruce’s claws scraped against the stone floor as he approached Malrik’s throne the following night, his amber eyes still glowing with the remnants of the beast’s fury. But a question burned in the back of his mind, refusing to be silenced even in his rage."Why do you hate him so much?" Bruce growled, his voice guttural yet sharp, cutting through the stillness of the ruined hall. "Why do you want Hugo destroyed?"Malrik tilted his head, studying Bruce with a predator’s amusement. "Ah, the curiosity of the broken," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "I wondered when you’d ask me this question again."Bruce’s claws flexed impatiently. "Answer me," he demanded, his anger barely contained.The smirk on Malrik’s face faltered slightly, replaced by a shadow of something darker, more personal. He rose from his throne, his movements calculated as he began to pace. "Hugo was never supposed to exist," he began,

The bakery stood quiet under the cold night sky, its warm interior now dim as Sarai cleaned the counters and arranged trays for the next morning. Outside, Ryker stood watch, his sharp hazel eyes scanning the empty street. The wind howled through the narrow alleys, carrying a biting chill that made him pull his coat tighter. But the cold wasn’t what unsettled him—it was the oppressive tension hanging in the air, thick and foreboding, as if the night itself whispered of danger.Inside, Sarai glanced toward the door, her hands stilling on a tray of pastries. "You feel it too, don’t you?" she asked softly, her sapphire eyes flickering with worry. Ryker didn’t turn, his body tense. "Something’s off," he admitted, his voice low. "Stay close, Sarai."A sudden gust of wind rattled the shop’s windows, and Ryker’s nostrils flared. A foul stench drifted on the breeze, acrid and unnatural—a sickening combination of rotting flesh and

The bakery was a blur of snarls, claws, and fangs as Bruce and Ryker fought to the death, their primal instincts driving them into a vicious and unrelenting battle. The small space seemed to shrink under the weight of their ferocity, the clash of their massive forms shaking the very walls. Display cases shattered as Bruce’s powerful swipe sent shards of glass flying across the room. Chairs splintered and tables crashed to the ground under the weight of their blows, the destruction a chaotic testament to their raw power.Bruce fought with the singular goal to destroy and kill, his claws tearing through the air with relentless malice. Ryker countered, every strike driven by a desperate need to protect, his movements precise yet fierce. Each blow they exchanged left the bakery further ravaged, the once-cozy shop now a battleground stained with blood and chaos.Bruce’s savage attacks bore the unmistakable signature of Malrik’s dark influence. His light br

The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the earth into a sodden, muddy expanse. The pack grounds were eerily quiet, save for the occasional roll of thunder that echoed across the skies. The air was heavy with grief, the kind that seeped into every corner of Ocean Crest’s territory. The loss of so many pack members weighed heavily on everyone, but none more so than Hugo.He stood in the center of the pack’s clearing, drenched from the rain, his sea-green eyes dark with sorrow. Around him, the wolves gathered, their heads bowed, their spirits broken. The howls of mourning pierced the air, a haunting symphony of shared pain and loss. Each cry carried the weight of a name, a memory, a life taken too soon.Hugo’s shoulders sagged under the burden of leadership, the responsibility of protecting the family that looked to him for strength. Ryker’s death was a wound that cut deeper than any physical injury. He could still see it—his loyal frien