All Chapters of Stolen by the Alpha: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

It's barely a heartbeat later when I'm summoned by the Elders. The scent of the woods is heavy around me, a comforting reminder of home despite the chaos that threatens to unravel us. Their call echoes through me, an undeniable command that stirs my wolf within.The walk back to the lodge feels longer than usual, each step weighted with the burden of what's to come. I could shift and make the journey shorter, but I prefer the time that my human feet buy me. Word has already spread—I can see it in the faces of my pack that turn toward me as I approach, in the hushed conversations that halt at my presence, in the scent of fear and grief that hangs in the air.Four families waiting to learn that their children are never coming home. A fifth that doesn't yet know their unborn child is already marked for sacrifice.And somewhere, Lyla, whose faith in me has been tested again and again, and always finding me lacking.One last tribute. One last terrible choice made in the name of duty. And t

The weight of the Alpha mantle sits heavy on my shoulders. I pace the length of my quarters, my wolf restless beneath my skin, craving the freedom of the forest. But freedom is a luxury I can't afford, not when the entire pack is watching me right now.The Elders' warnings about the tribute echo in my mind. Lyla called it barbaric—she made that much clear. But what choice do I have? The pack comes first. Always.I stop at the window. The new moon hangs invisible in the night sky, its absence a fitting mirror to the hollow feeling in my chest. Two days have passed since the meeting with the elders. Two days of funeral rites for our fallen young. Two days of waiting for the birth that will bring both life and death in the same moment. I watch the dark tree line, my body tense with anticipation and dread. Any moment now, Rosemary will come with news that Serena has gone into labor. Any moment now, the countdown to my most hated duty will begin.The pack has s

The forest looms before me, a wall of black broken only by occasional patches of starlight filtering through the canopy. I need to move quickly, to reach the eastern clearing before dawn. The Slavers will be waiting, and they don't tolerate tardiness—especially not after sending such a brutal reminder of their power.I consider shifting, but discard the idea immediately. My wolf form would be faster, but I can't carry the cub safely that way. So I set off on foot, sticking to the shadows, my enhanced vision allowing me to navigate the familiar paths with ease.The cub stirs against me, making small sounds that aren't quite cries but tug at something primal within me nonetheless. My arms tighten around him instinctively, protective even as I carry him toward his doom."I'm sorry," I whisper to him, words he can't understand. "I'm sorry this is happening to you. I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to stop it. Not yet."The apology is meaningless, a salve

KALENAs the moonlight wanes and we emerge from the cave, the chill of reality settles over me like a shroud. Lyla walks beside me, her wild hair tousled by the night breeze. I keep glancing over at her as we make our way back to my cabin, astonished at how much changed between us in so little time. The euphoria of claiming her lingers in the air between us, but with each step away from that sacred place where I made her mine, it fades into the shadows of our burdens."You're quiet," I say, my voice cutting through the rustling leaves around us. "What’s on your mind?"Her eyes meet mine briefly before she looks ahead again. Her lips press together. "I'm thinking about what comes next," she admits, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability beneath its usual strength. "There’s so much uncertainty now... and I can't help wondering if we’re ready for all of it."Her honesty hangs between us, grounding us in this moment despite the unknowns that lie ahead. I want to ease her fears, but be

Her hips shift under my hand, tilting instinctively to meet each circling pass of my thumb, the muscles of her thigh taut as wire beneath my palm. I draw her apart with easy force, holding her open with a proprietary grip as I work her clit with exquisite patience—never too fast, never too hard, just the steady, knowing pressure that makes her breath stutter and catch, compounding the tension with every second. The room is still, the hush of dawn crowded out by the swells of her pleasure, calls and responses echoing off bare plank walls, and I drink in every sound she gives me like a dying man at a spring. Her hips begin to writhe, knees bracketing my torso as her body bows off the mattress, seeking more friction, more contact, more of whatever I’m giving her.It’s almost comical, how quickly the feral edge of desire takes over—how Lyla, the same wolf who would bite my fingers off for teasing her in daylight, is now fully at my mercy, clawing at my arm and dragging lines down my forea