Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Alpha Kings’ Curse Breaker: Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

King’s POV The walls felt like they were closing in. I sat on the edge of the bed with elbows braced against my knees and staring at the floor like it held the answers to all the questions burning in my mind. My fingers curled into fists then released, only to curl again. My entire body was tense with my chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as I forced myself to stay put. She was in there with them. I could still hear them moving around and the muffled sound of low voices behind the thick walls. It didn’t take a genius to know what was happening. They had her tonight. And I was supposed to be okay with that. I wasn’t. I fucking wasn’t and there is no way I can losten to this fucking thing. I even plugged in an earpiece to try blocking it but it’s already in my head. I could even fucking see what they are doing in my head too. Every part of me was screaming to get up and to storm into that room and also to remind them exactly who she belonged to. But I wasn’t a fool to thi

Keith’s POVThe man who had molded us, who had shaped us into something more machine than wolves. The man who had taught us how to rule with fear and strike with precision, only to disappear and leave us to do it alone. The weight of his presence pressed down on my chest suffocating and inescapable. King’s voice cut through the silence. "You should sit down." Like hell. Sit down for what fucking reason right now? I barely registered the way my hands curled into fists and my nails biting into my palms. The air felt thick, heavy with tension so sharp it could cut. I could feel Kane and Klaus stiffen beside me their silence more telling than any outburst. None of us had ever been good at hiding our emotions. And right now? We were all drowning in them.“You have five seconds to explain before I rip his fucking lying throat throat out.” I let out a sharp and bitter laugh cause that is the only thing I can afford at this moment. Our father no, not our father. The man who used to b

King’s POVThe air was extremely heavy right now and super thick with something unspoked and suffocating. I could still hear their voices echoing in my head with the weight of their rage pressing against my chest like an iron fist. I could feel their disappointment their pain, their disgust. And yet as much as I wanted to let that be the end of it, I knew it wasn’t. There was more. Something bigger. Something that would change everything. And I had to be the one to say it. What he had just told them was never my fucking concern. Why he faked his death is really none of my business. The thought made my throat feel tight. My father( the man I had loathed, hunted, dreamed of killing) sat there on the floor with his body slumped and his breaths uneven. His face was bruised his lip still bleeding from the force of my fists but he didn’t look at me. He didn’t look at any of us. He was avoiding the inevitable. Like a coward. Like he had always been. I clenched my fists at my sides,

King’s POVI sat in the dimly lit living room with my elbows braced against my knees while staring at the unmoving body before me. My father lay sprawled across the cold floor, his once imposing figure reduced to nothing more than a battered and bloodied mess. His face was swollen, his lip split wide open and bruises blooming across his skin like a grotesque painting. His chest rose and fell faintly but I didn’t care if he woke up. I didn’t care if he ever fucking woke up again. I had used him as a punching bag landing blow after blow until my knuckles were raw until my arms felt like dead weights until my rage had burned itself out into an exhausted numbness. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Not after everything he had taken from me. From us. A soft creak of the staircase broke the silence and I raised my head to see Gianna standing there. She hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer, her expression wavering between concern and understanding. Despite the blood

King’s POV The forest stretched endlessly before us with the dense canopy of trees swaying with the wind as we ran. The rhythmic pounding of our paws against the earth was the only sound between us all the steady and cool as if we could outrun everything including our past, our mistakes and the weight of our choices. The night air was cool against my fur all crisp with the scent of damp earth and pine but there was something else beneath it and something familiar and heavy. The past. It clung to us like a second skin, refusing to be left behind no matter how fast we ran. For hours we didn’t stop. None of us spoke and none of us hesitated just four wolves tearing through the undergrowth pushing forward and pushing past. It was only when the scent of humans drifted toward us (all the gasoline and the faintest trace of smoke civilization) that we knew we had reached the edge of the forest. We slowed, our breath heavy and finally came to a stop by the river. The water rushed past us