Fated to Four Brothers のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 151 - チャプター 160

Loraine’s POV The day after, Prince Gideon updated us on everything. The house was quiet—too quiet. That usually meant trouble, especially when all four of my mates were involved. I wandered through the halls, half-expecting to stumble upon chaos, but instead, I found myself piecing together just how hard they had been working behind the scenes to protect me. Kris had left early that morning, his usual calm demeanor masking the tension I knew he felt. Hunter had spent the night pacing the halls, muttering something about rogue sightings, while Preston and Killian had been in and out of the office, trying to keep the rest of the pack on high alert. I sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter as I prepared breakfast for them. The sight of the empty table tugged at my heart. They’d been stretched thin lately, all because of me. I never meant for my life to bring so much drama into theirs. “They deserve better,” I whispered to myself. But even as the thought crossed my mind, ano

Mabel’s POV My uncle’s voice echoed in my head, sharp and unforgiving. “You’re not doing enough, Mabel.” It wasn’t just a criticism—it was an accusation, a reminder that failure wasn’t an option. My fists clenched as I paced my room. I had done everything he’d asked. What more could he want? “I’ve been working tirelessly,” I muttered under my breath, trying to push his biting words aside. But his response had been just as infuriating. “If you were doing enough, we wouldn’t still be having this problem, would we?” My uncle and I had been working together for a long time now. And I thought he would understand where I was coming from by now. The nerve. The absolute fucking nerve. Did he think sabotaging Loraine and breaking down those overly possessive alphas was freaking easy? Since I came, I had done my best to make sure Loraine was away from the boys, but nothing I did allowed them near me. They always stayed away from me no matter what I did, no matter how many stunts I pull

Loraine’s POV I set my book down and gave her a polite smile. “What do you need, Mabel?” She chuckled lightly, as if I’d made a joke. “Why does it have to be about needing something? Maybe I just wanted to talk.” I raised an eyebrow. Mabel and I weren’t exactly on friendly terms, and this sudden attempt at camaraderie felt as fake as her tone. Still, I gestured for her to sit. “Alright. Talk.” She perched on the edge of the bench, smoothing out her dress. “You know, I’ve been thinking. We’ve had our differences, but we’re both part of this pack now. Maybe it’s time we tried to get along.” I leaned back, crossing my arms. “Get along? After everything you’ve done? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Her smile faltered for a second before she quickly recovered. “I’ve made mistakes; I’ll admit that. But don’t you think we should put the past behind us? For the good of the pack?” I tilted my head, studying her carefully. Her eyes were wide, her expression open, but there was some

Jennifer’s POV I slammed the bedroom door behind me, the sound echoing through the massive space, and leaned heavily against it. My chest was tight with frustration, my fists clenched so hard that my nails bit into my palms. For weeks, maybe months now, my foolish ass, his alpha Gordon, had been more distant lately—colder than ever. He barely acknowledged me unless it was unavoidable. And at night? I might as well be invisible. He refused to touch me, refused to even sleep in the same bed most nights. I ran a hand through my hair and let out a low growl. The rejection burned, and it was a wound that refused to heal. “I’m his wife, for fucking Moon's sake,” I muttered to myself, pacing the room. “How dare he treat me like this?” I stopped and stared at our bed—the pristine sheets, untouched pillows. My fists clenched again as I remembered the early days of our marriage. He had been mine, all mine. Or at least, I thought he was. But now… I couldn’t finish the thought. The truth wa

Loraine’s POV I had gotten used to the crazy-ass chaos that now surrounded me, but recently, there was a strange stillness in the air. Freaking Firstly, our supposed psychopath, Mabel, the woman who had made my life unbearable, was quiet. Too quiet. It felt like the calm before a storm, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Her absence from my life—no pranks, no insults, no sudden confrontations—was unsettling. Every time I caught a glimpse of her, I noticed how distant she had become. She no longer tried to provoke me; instead, she seemed to be going about her life, almost as though she had forgotten about our past. I didn’t know what was worse—the fact that she had stopped tormenting me or the fact that I couldn’t figure out her angle. It was late in the evening when my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a message from Mabel. My heart skipped a beat as I read her words: “We need to talk. Meet me at the old barn, north of the pack. I have informatio