All Chapters of Revenge on my Alpha husband: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Edward: The cold air of the night pricked my skin, its crispness biting at my skin as I strolled through the palace grounds. It was strange that even I could feel cold at all. Sleep had been elusive, a shadow I couldn’t catch, leaving me restless. My mind spun with strategies, contingencies, and the idea of responsibilities that refused to lessen as time passed. The sound of gravel crunching beneath my boots was a steady rhythm, one that couldn’t drown out the chaos in my thoughts. Ethan’s decision to marry Imogen had been a calculated move, but I knew it would ripple outward, driving Freya into a frenzy. She was predictable in her unpredictability, and I had no doubt she would act out. Anticipating this, I had stationed Elias, one of my most trusted guards, to watch her. Elias wasn’t just any guard. He was a shadow in the truest sense, a master of concealment. He could shift his form into darkness itself, rendering him almost invisible. His heartbeat was so faint it was impe

Lianna: The morning light crept into my room through the sheer curtains, bathing everything in a soft glow. But instead of feeling the usual pull to start the day, I remained tangled in my sheets, staring at the ceiling. There was a tightness in my chest, as if the events of last night had left a weight there, pressing down into my chest with every breath. I turned onto my side, pulling the blankets closer. Maybe if I stayed here long enough, the day would pass without me having to see Edward. I wasn’t sure I could face him after the awkward exchange in the kitchen. The thought of his probing eyes, his knowing smile, made my stomach twist uncomfortably. With a sigh, I let my eyes close again, convincing myself that another hour—or two—of sleep would do me good When I opened my eyes again, it was to the sound of the door creaking open. I blinked groggily as Ingrid’s familiar figure entered, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on me. “You’re still in bed?” she asked,

Imogen: It was a sunny morning, definitely not one for our kind. The sun filtered through the delicate lace of the parasol above me, casting intricate patterns on the table in front of me. A gentle breeze carried the scent of freshly bloomed roses, mingling with the earthy undertones of the garden soil. The parasol shielded me from the worst of the sun, but the warmth still seeped into my skin, lulling me into a false sense of calm which I knew was going to leave burn marks later. But I loved to see the way the sun slightly burnt intricate patterns from the parasol on my skin. I adjusted the hem of my dress, the silk gliding smoothly between my fingers. It was a soft blue today, simple but elegant, the kind of thing that suited a future queen. My engagement to Ethan had finally been solidified, but my heart was still wary. A man like him—so indecisive —would always have his doubts. And I knew I would forever be walking the line between being his choice and being his burden. I

Lianna: The blanket beneath me was soft against the grass, the rich hues of the sunset reflecting in the still waters of Lunaris Spring. The sky was a masterpiece of fiery orange and soft pink, streaked with hints of lavender and gold. I leaned back, letting my fingers trace absent patterns over the fabric of the picnic blanket. Beside me, Edward sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the horizon as though the sunset had cast its spell on him too. “I’ve always loved sunsets,” I murmured, my voice breaking the gentle hum of the crickets around us. “They make me feel… hope. Like no matter what happens during the day, it all ends in beauty.” Edward shifted slightly, turning his attention to me. “Hope,” he echoed, the word lingering on his lips as if tasting its weight. I nodded, my eyes still on the horizon. “Look at the colors. The oranges remind me of warmth, safety, like being wrapped in a blanket on a cold night. The pinks feel tender, like love that’s soft and quiet. And the pur

CHAPTER 69 Freya: The weight of Alistair’s body beneath mine was thrilling. His resistance only made the game more intoxicating, his pathetic attempts to stop me was a show of weakness I enjoyed. My lips moved against his, a mixture of hunger and malice driving me. He tried to turn his face away, his breath ragged, but I caught his jaw with my hand, forcing him to look at me. “Freya, stop this,” he rasped, his voice trembling. “This isn't right. What we're doing isn't right at all. You're married...and I know you don't even like me.” “Oh, Alistair,” I purred, running my fingers down his chest. His shirt bunched under my touch, the fabric soft but wrinkled from my earlier grip. “You wanted this. Don’t pretend otherwise.” “I didn't!” His wide, terrified eyes betrayed him. He tried to push me off again, his hands pressing against my shoulders, but I snarled, low and guttural, letting my claws extend just enough to graze his skin. “Don’t make me hurt you,” I wa