Lahat ng Kabanata ng Revenge on my Alpha husband: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

Lianna: The weight of the pack's affairs bore down on me the moment Edward left. The council elders sat around the grand hall, their stern faces scrutinizing me as though searching for a crack in my composure. I kept my back straight, my gaze unwavering, though my nerves coiled tightly within. This wasn’t a role I had ever wanted, but it was one Edward had entrusted me with. And I wouldn’t let him down. Ingrid stood at my side, her presence a steady pillar of strength. When I faltered, her subtle nods reassured me. When someone interrupted me or questioned my authority, she stepped forward with that sharp tongue of hers, silencing them with a mix of wit and intimidation. “Luna Lianna has spoken,” Elder Aldric declared firmly when one of the younger wolves tried to argue against my decision regarding resource allocation. His defense of me was surprising, but I wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was rooted in respect. The elders’ loyalty lay with Edward, and for now, that loyalt

Freya: The maids’ giggles grated against my nerves as I stood at the edge of the kitchen. I’d asked for tea—just tea—and yet here they were, dawdling, whispering, throwing glances at me as though I were some ridiculous figure of amusement. One of them, a girl with an unremarkable face but too much confidence for someone of her stature, turned to me with a smirk. “I’m sorry, Lady Freya. We’re a bit behind. Perhaps you could fetch it yourself?” The audacity of her words hit me like a slap. My nails dug into my palms as I forced myself to remain composed, but the boiling anger beneath my skin was almost too much to contain. “Perhaps you could fetch me your resignation,” I spat, my tone venomous. She merely shrugged, her smirk widening, before turning back to her work. I felt the air around me shift—other maids pausing, watching, waiting for my reaction—but I turned on my heel and stormed out. If they thought they could challenge me, t

Lianna: The open fields stretched endlessly before us, bathed in the warm amber of the setting sun. The horses’ hooves beat a steady rhythm against the earth as we rode, the cool breeze brushing against my face and tousling my hair. I felt alive, free. Alistair, riding beside us, seemed calmer now. The tension that had clung to him earlier had eased, but there was still a shadow in his eyes, one I couldn’t ignore. Ingrid, as blunt as ever, turned to him with a knowing smirk. “So, Alistair,” she began, her voice dripping with mischief, “care to tell us why Freya was hanging around you earlier?” He stiffened visibly, the reins in his hands tightening. “Nothing’s going on,” he said quickly, his voice a little too defensive. Ingrid raised an eyebrow, glancing at me as if to say, See? Something’s definitely up. I chose not to press him further. Instead, I let the silence settle, focusing on the scenery around me. The vast fields were dotted with wildflowers swaying gently in

CHAPTER 58 Lianna: The cool night air kissed my cheeks as Edward extended his hand to me. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft silver glow over the garden path. It was almost surreal how quiet the world felt—just the two of us and the distant hum of crickets filling the silence. “Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth and inviting. I hesitated, glancing at his outstretched hand. A walk in the garden, he had said. Innocent enough on the surface, but nothing about Edward ever truly felt innocent. Still, I slipped my hand into his, ignoring the warmth that shot up my arm when our skin touched. The garden was breathtaking, with sprawling hedges, fountains trickling softly, and modern lanterns glowing with a soft, bluish hue. This wasn’t just a garden—it was a haven, an escape from the chaos of the palace. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at peace, yet Edward’s presence had a way of stirring something deep inside me. “You’re quiet,” he said, breaking the sil

Freya: The bed felt colder tonight, not because of the chill in the air but because of the emptiness beside me. I pulled the covers tighter around my trembling frame, the echo of Ethan's words stabbing into my chest like shards of glass. "Look at you, Freya. You’re plain. You’ve always been plain." I squeezed my eyes shut, but the tears spilled over anyway, hot and relentless. My nails dug into the soft fabric of the duvet as the memory of our fight replayed itself in my mind, a vicious loop of anger, accusations, and bitter laughter. He never answered me. Not once. Instead, he deflected, twisting everything to make me the villain. Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted you? Yes, I had made mistakes—slept with men I had no business being with—but Ethan? He was no saint. Yet, somehow, I was always the one drowning in guilt, always the one clawing for his affection while he threw daggers at me. A soft creak from the door jolted me, and I wiped at my face hur