Bewitching the Alpha のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

The ledger sat on the mahogany desk, heavy and innocent-looking, bound in cracked black leather. To anyone else, it was just a record of debts and payments. A boring testament to Sibal’s administrative greed.For the last two hours, I hadn’t turned a page. I was staring at a specific entry from twelve years ago, but I wasn’t seeing the numbers. I was seeing the folded piece of parchment I had found tucked between the binding and the spine earlier that morning. It was now hidden deep in the pocket of my skirt, burning against my thigh like a branding iron.It wasn't a financial receipt. It was a coroner’s report from the Archives, stolen by Sibal and hidden away. A report on the last known bonded pair. A wolf and a witch from the Southern Territories.Cause of death (Male/Alpha): Systemic mana depletion. Cardiac arrest due to magical strain.Cause of death (Female/Witch): Execution.I rubbed my thumb against the edge of the desk, the friction biting into my skin. The silence in the Alp

I had spent the last forty-eight hours barricaded in there, treating the door like the airlock of a spaceship. I only left when my ears, strained to their limit, told me the hallway was completely empty. I moved like a ghost, snatching cold leftovers from the kitchen counter before retreating back to my cell.I avoided the windows that looked out over the training yard. I avoided the common rooms. I avoided him.But avoiding a wolf in his own den was a stupid game. It was like trying to stand in the ocean and command the tide not to touch you. You might stay dry for a minute, but the water always wins.I was packing.The duffel bag on the bed was open, its mouth gaping like a hungry animal. It wasn't packed for a diplomatic trip. It wasn't packed for a vacation. It was packed for a disappearance.I shoved a thick wool sweater in, pushing it down hard. Next came the cash, stacks of bills I had skimmed from Sibal’s personal floor safe before I locked it out. It was dirty money, but it w

I didn't look back at the Pack House. I couldn't.If I turned around, if I saw the dark windows of the room where I had left him I would collapse. And if I collapsed, the curse would win.I walked through the forest, the snow crunching under my boots. The wind had picked up, howling through the pines like a mourning choir, but I barely felt the cold. Inside me, the stolen fire of the Alpha burned with a steady, sickening warmth. It was keeping me alive. It was keeping me strong.And every beat of my heart felt like a theft.I reached the edge of Oakhaven an hour before dawn. The town was silent, buried under drifts of white. The streetlamps were halos of hazy orange light in the mist.I didn't go to my apartment. I didn't go to the Coven House.I went to the cemetery.It was located on the northern ridge, overlooking the sea. It was a bleak, desolate place, filled with rows of gray headstones that leaned against the wind like tired old men. The Coven buried their dead here, segregated

I didn't feel the cold. I couldn't. My body was humming with so much stolen energy that I felt like I was walking inside a furnace. The golden fire I had siphoned from Guilermo, the love I thought we were sharing was keeping my blood hot, my muscles tireless, my senses razor-sharp.I felt incredible. I felt powerful.And that was what made me want to scream.I reached the perimeter of the Pack House just as the sun began to dip behind the mountains, painting the sky in bruises of purple and red. The guards at the gate nodded to me, respect in their eyes. They saw the Witch Queen. They saw the woman who had saved their Alpha.They didn't see the tick that had gorged itself until it was bloated.I walked into the main house. It was warm, smelling of cedar and dinner."Lilura!"Thelma bounded up to me in the hallway. She looked worried."Where have you been? The Alpha has been pacing a hole in the floorboards. He said he couldn't feel you.""I was… meditating," I lied. My voice sounded s

Guilermo woke up slowly, dragging himself out of the deep, drugged sleep that had claimed him. His body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead instead of blood. His arm throbbed where the rogue had cut him. His head pounded.He reached out.His hand hit cool sheets."Lilura?"He opened his eyes.The space beside him was empty. The pillow still held the indentation of her head, but the warmth was fading.He sat up, panic spiking in his chest."Lilura!"He scanned the room. Her clothes were gone. Her boots were gone.And then he saw it.The note.It sat on the pillow, white and innocent in the dim light.He snatched it up. He read it once. Then twice.You were right. It was just biology. The hunger is gone now. And so am I.Don't look for me. I got what I needed.L.The paper crumbled in his fist."No," he whispered. "No."He threw the covers off and stumbled out of bed. He fell. His legs wouldn't hold him. He crashed to the floor, his knees hitting the hardwood with a bone-jarring th