All Chapters of Fighting For The Alpha's Mark: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

SavannahI didn’t know why my palms were sweating. It was the kind of dread that clings to your skin. Earlier, Alpha Henry had his legs spread like the room belonged to him. Beatrice sat tall, like she was ready to step between a sword fight. Theo stared at the floor. Sasha was silent, her wheelchair turned slightly toward the window as if we didn’t matter.Xavier pulled out a chair for me. I sat, but I didn’t lean back. My spine stayed straight, palms flat on my thighs, like I needed to feel something solid under me. I told myself I was ready. That was a lie. I told myself maybe Sasha was done fighting. That was an even bigger lie.“I appreciate everyone being here,” Xavier said. His voice was calm. “I called this meeting because I want us to move forward. With clarity and respect.”But his wishes weren't granted, as Sasha was hell-bent on causing trouble.“I will not be divorcing you,” she said. Just like that. No hesitation, no preamble.She turned her head now, and her gaze locked

SavannahThe bed cradled the shape of my body from last night. My knees tucked to my chest like I was trying to disappear into myself.My thoughts felt like shards I couldn’t fit back together. I couldn’t pretend anymore. This was bad, and no amount of sugar could coat it.Two voices fought in my head. One was loud and sick of this mess. It screamed at me to get up, grab my kids, and run. I wasn’t going to win in a house where Sasha could burn it all down and still be handed the matches.What was I fighting for? A seat at a table that was never mine?The other voice whispered softer things. It reminded me of Xavier’s love for me. He was trying. Maybe not perfectly—but he was trying. Still, love didn’t erase damage, and devotion didn’t shield children from chaos.How the hell was I supposed to raise kids in a house where my sister could scream across the hallway like a banshee in broad daylight and no one flinched? No one stopped her. No one protected me.Wanting peace didn’t make me w

Xavier After the ridiculous drama, and Savannah throwing in the towel without so much as a final blow, Sasha turned toward me with a glint in her eyes.It wasn't joy or even pride. It was trouble seeping out of her.“Help me into the car, darling,” she said sweetly, tilting her head at an oblique angle like she was posing for a portrait. With every ounce of restraint I could scrape together, I walked over, opened the door of my newly gifted Mercedes that was handed to me after I was named regional alpha. and braced my hands on her arms to lift her as she transferred herself into the seat. She acted delicate, like touching her too firmly would crack her open. I tucked the hem of her dress in, then turned and hauled the wheelchair into the back seat.Once everything was in place, I closed the door harder than necessary, walked around the front of the car, and looked up at the darkening sky.The only way I could cope with the drive to the party was by sighing repeatedly and loudly, ho

Savannah After that chaotic mess, I stormed into my quarters, yanked the suitcase from under my bed, and slammed it onto the mattress. My hands grabbed clothes from their hangers, stuffing them into the suitcase in tight rolls without folding.Eve paced near the dresser, looking like she was holding back a hundred arguments. She snatched the blouse I’d just packed. Then another. And another.“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped.“If you think I’m going to let you leave like a runaway bride, think again.”I grabbed the clothes from her and shoved them back into the suitcase. “I’m not doing this for drama, Eve. I’m done. I’m tired of being the punching bag in someone else’s twisted story.”She stepped back. “I know you’re tired. Hell, I’m tired too. But packing like you’re escaping a prison isn't the answer.”“I’m not asking for your approval,” I muttered, jamming a hairbrush and charger into a side pouch.Eve’s voice softened. “Are you leaving because you’ve had enough, or because

SavannahMoving back to my mother’s house felt like unclenching a fist I didn’t know I’d been holding. The air wasn’t dark here. No more rationed trust, insults, or the fear of being poisoned.The boys adjusted fast. School was starting, and they were excited. Last resumption, I was patching soles with glue. Now, my mother had them in matching black leather shoes that looked more suited for a board meeting than kindergarten.“These are too much for school,” I told her at the market, eyeing the price tag.“They’re boys. They’ll outgrow them before they scuff,” she said, bagging the pair without looking up.I didn’t bother fighting it. That was the thing about my mother. Once she decided you were hers, you were going to be spoiled whether you asked for it or not.Even Adelaide wasn’t spared. My chest tightened every time I saw her skipping around, showing off a new hairband or snack pack my mom had tucked into her school bag.I hated the complication. I loved the little girl. But I was