All Chapters of Her thirst for vengeance: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

Tamara’s POVThe morning sun filtered through the curtains, and woke me up. Today was the day. Dante had set the court hearing for today, and soon, everything would come to light. I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach as I sat in front of my mirror, and let Violet fuss over me.She was unusually quiet, her movements slow and deliberate. I caught her reflection, noting the pale tint to her skin and the dark circles under her eyes.“Violet,” I said softly, breaking the silence, “are you feeling alright?”She hesitated, brushing my hair back with trembling fingers. “I’m fine, Luna.”I raised a brow, unconvinced. “You don’t look fine. You’re pale, and your hands are shaking. When’s the last time you ate?”She couldn't answer me and I whirled around to face her, "you need to see a doctor!" I screamed at her Violet sighed and placed the brush down, meeting my gaze in the mirror. “yes, yes, I’ll go to the doctor after this, I promise. Right now, you’re the priority.”I frowned but decide

Tamara’s POV Sunlight streamed through the wide windows, warming my skin as I sat up to gaze at my lover in bed, my body still feeling the aftereffects of everything I’d endured. My Dante was by my side, as always, his arm resting protectively around my waist. “You’ve been staring at me for ten minutes,” he said, his voice rough with sleep but teasing. I smiled, brushing a hand through his dark hair. “I can’t help it. I still can’t believe we’re here, together, and… alive.” Dante turned to face me fully, cupping my cheek. “I made you a promise, Tamara. Nothing and no one will ever separate us again.” The sincerity in his golden eyes warmed me, but a lingering unease crept in. My thoughts drifted back to Lord Jarek’s escape. But I remembered Dante’s promise to capture him, to end the threat he posed to us and the pack. “Do you really believe that?” I asked softly. “That no one can come between us?” His gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. “Jarek is being hunted as we sp

Tamara’s POV The temple fell deathly silent, the atmosphere crackling with tension. I could feel hundreds of eyes bouncing between Amanda, her twin boys, and Dante. Whispers rippled through the crowd like waves crashing against a fragile shore. “Is that Amanda? Dante’s ex-mate?” “The one who disappeared years ago?” “Why now? On their wedding day?” “She’s got kids with her. Are those…?” I tried to breathe, but my lungs wouldn’t cooperate. My hand shook in Dante’s, and to my horror, he loosened his grip. I glanced up at him, desperate for reassurance, but his face was unreadable, his jaw clenched tight. Amanda took a small step forward, her twin boys clutching her hands tightly. The boys—dark-haired, golden-eyed —looked up at Dante with wide, curious eyes. They looked too much like their mother, but that didn't mean they weren't fathered by Dante. “I owe everyone an explanation,” Amanda began, her voice soft but steady despite the murmurs that filled the temple. “Years a

Tamara's POV I had never seen Dante this relaxed before, not in all the time I had known him. The private villa was tucked away on a secluded island. It was the perfect escape—a break from everything, from the pressure of his position as Alpha, from the chaos of his ex-mate, Amanda, and her mysterious return. I wanted to think that it was just him and me having a normal and peaceful life, the way it should be. But even here, surrounded by paradise, I couldn't shake the knowledge that something very wrong had entered our marriage. Dante was distracted from the first day of our honeymoon. We spent hours walking along the beach, exploring the island, and enjoying the peaceful surroundings. I should've been thrilled. But something lingered in the air between us, an unease I couldn’t ignore. We had dinner the first night on the balcony, overlooking the ocean as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink. It should’ve been magical. “You look am

Tamara's POV It had been a week since the twins' scare, and Dante had barely looked at me. I tried to tell myself that it was because he was just being a protective father, but there was something more to it—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He seemed distant, even more so than usual. And every time I caught him staring off into space, I felt this gnawing ache in my chest. Was it me? Was he regretting this—us? It was hard to deny the tension between us. The bond we had once shared felt fragile, like a thread stretched too thin. Dante had been avoiding me, and I had been walking on eggshells, unsure if I was making the right move or if I was simply overthinking it all. The only thing I knew for sure was that something needed to change. One night, as I sat in the study, the silence between us was deafening. Dante sat on the couch, his eyes glued to his phone, the same way he had been for hours. I could hear his breath, steady but distant. He wasn’t even looking at me, w