All Chapters of Bride Of The Shadowed Alpha: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

❤️ Nyxoria's Choice ❤️"No, I can't, but I can't hide it from her for long," Tharros said. "I will tell her, but that will be after your fight. I plan to marry her after it's over."Vyrelen grinned."Maybe I will marry Dika too.""I can really see she is the one for you even though you tricked her about your tradition.""Yeah, just like you knew when you saw the Empress for the first time," Vyrelen said. "I managed to convince Dika to stay over.""I'm happy for you, Vyrelen."Vyrelen smiled and stood up, bowed a little and was gone the next second.Tharros lingered in the garden for a moment before heading to the kitchen to inform the cook about the meals he wanted. Afterward, he made his way back to his chamber.After their kiss, Nyxoria had fallen asleep on his shoulder and he had taken her to his bed before heading back to the garden because he knew Vyrelen would come to meet him there first. And now he is back to his chamber and rather than sleeping, he moved his chair closer to th

❤️ Fefe's Fall ❤️Nyxoria had her bath. The water was warm, likely brought in by a servant, so she didn’t waste any time. Once she was done, she slipped into one of the long dresses Tharros had gotten for her that fit her.Not long after, they left for the throne room. This time, they didn’t use Tharros’ shadows. Nyxoria wanted to walk, to stretch her legs a bit.Taking her sword with her.††Throne Room:Fefe, still pretending to be Daisy, was getting frustrated. She had been standing for nearly an hour, and Nyxoria was still nowhere in sight.But what really annoyed her wasn’t the wait, it was Vyrelen.He had left the throne room briefly, returned before she could even blink, and told her Nyxoria and Tharros were on their way. When he first brought her in, she’d tried to sit in one of the empty seats around the round table, but Vyrelen stopped her.“Those aren’t for you,” he’d said flatly. “I’ll bring you a chair.”That was a lie.Instead of fetching a chair, he went to sit in one o

❤️ The Night Before Ashland ❤️ "I don’t get it, Tharros. I know Vyrelen is your right-hand man, but calling him your shadow? That’s a little hard to believe," Nyxoria said, frowning. "I know it’s strange, my love. But one day, you’ll understand," Tharros replied gently. "So, he’s really fighting Oberon tomorrow?" she asked again to be sure and when Tharros nodded his head, she continued. "Where is the fight taking place?" "Ashland." Tharros responded. Nyxoria's eyes widened in shock. "Ashland? The same Ashland that is at the outskirts of all kingdoms, the land that is forbidden to enter? That same Ashland?" Tharros nodded his head once again. "That same Ashland." "Why would Oberon choose such a cursed place? I heard there is an evil spirit that lives there who has a Fae blood and is very dangerous. If Vyrelen fights there, he’s walking into death. And we don’t even know who his opponent is." "You’re worried?" Tharros asked, smiling softly. "Of course I am! Aren’t you? Vyrelen

❤️ The Fight for Her Hand Begins (2)❤️ Ashland: Ashland, the sacred battleground where Kings and Queens came to prove their strength, was packed with people. Each section was divided by species, the werewolves sat with their council of elders, King Vyr and Princess Nasa seated at the front. Next came the vampires with their queen, followed by the mermaid queen and her people, then the witch king, and more. Everyone was seated and was anticipating the fight that was about to happen, it was as if nearly every kingdom was present in Ashland. At the center of it all was the arena, a place where only one could walk away. A fight to the death. Tharros sat above the rest of the rulers, in a seat made for the Emperor. He had made sure seats were prepared for Nyxoria and her friend Dika. When they arrived, Vyrelen dropped Dika off before heading to the arena. Tharros made sure Nyxoria sat beside her. He turned his seat backwards which faced the arena and sat down. “You’re not watching the

❤️ The Fight for Her Hand Begins (4) ❤️King Oberon clenched his fists so tightly that the veins on his hands bulged, and without thinking, he slammed one of them down on the armrest of his seat. A loud crack split through the wood, drawing startled glances from a few nearby people, especially his elder of councils who are close to him. But no one dared speak. They all felt the fury rolling off him like heat from a wildfire.He was livid.Not just because he had lost, but because of how it happened. The fight he had put so much hope in, two warriors he had trusted with his reputation, his pride, his revenge, had ended in humiliation. The Cindercloak warrior, Legion, who once burned through battlefields without mercy, had fallen without Vyrelen even breaking a sweat. And the cursed spirit of Ashland, an ancient being said to hold the wrath of the land itself, was destroyed like it was made of sand, not stone.Oberon had thought at least one of them would wound Vyrelen. Just one injury.