Lahat ng Kabanata ng Alpha's Mistress and the Beta: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

Beatrice’s POV What’s happening to me lately? Just a short while ago, when I was with Emily, I barely felt any sympathy for her. I just… looked at her. It was as if I was watching someone through a thick, blurry window, disconnected. A cold wave had swept over me. Part of me, goddess, help me, wanted to strangle her. Just end it. That dark, horrifying thought flashed in my mind so clearly I could feel the weight of it in my hands. I had to fight with everything inside me to keep my cool. I forced myself to smile, to breathe, to walk away. And I did. Somehow, I managed to go out without doing anything to her. But that’s not all. Yesterday morning, I woke up covered in dirt. My clothes were stained, my nails packed with soil, and there were scratches on my arms like I had run through the woods or clawed at something. I don't remember a thing. I had to convince myself I was sleepwalking. It’s the only explanation that sounded... acceptable. But deep down, I knew there had to be an

Caleb’s POV I’m up before dawn. I didn’t get much sleep, just a few hours of tossing and turning, replaying Raven’s face over and over in my mind. The pain in her voice, the way she looked at me when I held her, when I let her go... it all keeps echoing. The sky is still dark, painted in shades of blue and purple. A thin mist clings to the ground like a secret. I’ve already packed my bag. The car is prepped, waiting just past the front gates. Elijah, Nashon, and Joshua should be here any moment. I step out onto the porch, pulling my jacket tighter around me. The wind bites a little, but it feels good. Clears my head. And then I hear footsteps behind me. Soft. Light. Hesitant. I turn, half-expecting one of my brothers but it’s her. Raven. She’s standing there in the early light, her hair braided back, a small backpack slung over one shoulder. She looks tired but steady, eyes fixed on mine like she’s already made her decision. “You’re up early,” I say, my voice lower than I mea

Caleb’s POV "Trice?” The name rolls off my tongue before I can stop myself. "Raphael?" I whisper, more to myself than anyone else. I look at Raven, confused, and she’s glowing. Her face lights up like I’ve never seen before. Her entire demeanor shifts. The stiffness in her shoulders, the guarded way she carries herself, it all melts into something soft and radiant. Her eyes widen, lips part in disbelief, then curve into a smile so genuine it tugs something sharp inside my chest. So this is who she was looking for. Of course, I should’ve known. She's been here all her life, she's gorgeous why wouldn't she have a male friend. My gaze flicks to the man rushing toward her, Raphael. He’s beaming, arms outstretched like a fool in a fairytale. The kind of joy that only comes from deep, unwavering affection. He stops just in front of her, his eyes drinking her in like he still can't believe she’s real. I watch silently as she whispers his name like it’s the only word that ma

Caleb’s POV Turns out, I was right. We arrive at the crime scene, and it's a goddamn massacre. Five bodies; two locals and three of Mason’s guards, are sprawled out like discarded dolls. Torn open, mangled. The same signature wounds as the maid back in Blood-howl. Deep slashes, broken bones, no scent trail, just carnage. “Shit… what the hell is this?” I mutter, crouching beside one of the guards, his throat ripped wide open. “Did that thing follow us here?” I say more to myself. Mason steps up beside me, pinching his nose like the smell is too much for his royal senses. “I hate being Alpha,” he grumbles under his breath. 'Well... I hate you' I think to myself. Good thing I left Raven behind. She doesn’t need to see this. This kind of violence, would destroy her. I straighten up, eyes scanning the perimeter as the wind picks up, but still, nothing, no scent, just the thick, metallic stench of blood and the buzz of fear lingering in the air. “This is exactly what I was tal

Beatrice’s POV I wake up slowly. It’s like surfacing from deep underwater, my lungs burn, my limbs are heavy, and for a few seconds, I’m not sure if I’m dead or dreaming. Then the cold seeps in, bone deep and real. The stone beneath me is as hard as it is unforgiving, and I groan as I push myself up onto trembling elbows. The violet glow is gone. I’m in a new place now, darker, colder, and emptier. The strange light has been replaced by flickering torches that line what appears to be a stone corridor. The walls are uneven, ancient, and carved with symbols that seem to shift when I look directly at them. There’s a lingering scent of moss and blood in the air. The ache in my stomach has dulled, but I’m still sore like something inside me is broken or… being remade. I crawl to the nearest wall and use it to pull myself upright, pressing my palm against the cool stone for balance. My head spins. What was that thing? Who… what am I really? The words echo in my mind again: "Dau