All Chapters of Alpha's Cursed Twain: Chapter 231 - Chapter 240

  CELESTE'S POV "No," Sam exclaimed as a matter of fact, leaving no room for argument. "If anyone should be getting the moonstone back from him, it's me, because I brought up the idea of giving it out in the first place." The witches have laid before us a way out, the only way out. And part of it involved me retrieving the moonstone from Malthus. I wasn't sure how they expected me to do that. I couldn't just reach out to Malthus and request that he hand over the moonstone, could I?  "He would not kill her." The witch whispered dreamily. She was staring at a wall like she was seeing through it, like she was staring at the future where Malthus would not kill me.  "Hu

CELESTE'S POVLogan stared. From Sam, to me, to Kaiden and his group, to Victor, and finally to Sam again. To say he looked dumbfounded will be an understatement. He was knocked off my shock. Kaiden was a literal enemy of the pack. Victor was a runaway prisoner whose search might still be active to this day. Sam was someone who had betrayed the pack once, and there was me. Someone with a bit of relation to the witches, whom he never trusts. As if knowing us all wasn't bad enough, he had to walk in on us while we were together, at the same time. Oh, let's not forget the group of witches in our midst, too. "Are you guys fucking kidding me right now?" When he managed to knock himself out of the shock, he asked. His tone was filled with so much anger that I knew it would take a miracle to get him to calm down. "And to think I just finished defending your foolish ass right now." He banged the door behind him and walked toward me. I don't know why he chose to approach me of all the peo

JEREMY'POVA war. That's exactly what the witches were planning to start with the Obsidian Syndicate pack. And it's not your regular kind of war. I don't know much about what exactly they were planning, but I know enough to understand that they intend to destroy every part of the pack and birth a new era for themselves. I didn't sign up for this. All I wanted was for Killian to be thrown out of the throne, nothing else. But as of right now, I was too far gone to go against them. The minute they sense any form of hesitation from me, the minute they realize that I want to turn my back on them, they would strike. As it is, I have no more use for them anyway; they were only keeping me around because I know too much to be discarded. "What is the preparation for?" I just stepped out of my cabin, and I noticed how the low-life witches have been going around cleaning and making little repairs around their houses. This wasn't something I was used to seeing, so of course I was curious. "Yo

JEREMY'S POVIt took the grace of whatever holy being was up there and maybe the support of two witches behind me, on whose feet I landed, for me not to crumble to the ground. The witches held me firmly and only let go when I was out of my shocked state. When I looked back at them to apologize, they had this fulfilled look on their faces, like they were pleased I actually reacted that way to the presence of their fucking superior being. I decided against the apology, cast them with a look of disdain, and turned my face away from them. I was only affected this way because I saw what they didn't, or better yet, I knew who I saw. Because of how relaxed and cheerful they were, it seemed that they had no idea who they had just stood against. Killian?Fucking Killian?Of all the people their so-called Lord should choose from, he chose to possess Killian. Even though the eerie look on his face doesn't resemble something Killian would do, every other part of him was Killian, and to some ext

CELESTE’S POVIt was one of those days I spent hours in the dream realm. I was casually walking through the different hallways of the castle like any other day, only this time around, I was dreaming, and I knew it. I also knew where my legs were carrying me to, even though I had no idea why, when Killian was not even in there. I came to a halt a few feet away from his door, where a random guard refused to allow me entry. I contemplated telling them this was just a dream, but in the end, I decided against it. They say, “Don’t tell the dream people that you are dreaming.” I waited until they got distracted by a strange light gleaming at the far end of the hallway, and I slipped into the room, closing the door behind me. The room, like I remembered, was dark, very dark in fact, so that it couldn’t possibly be as a result of the closed curtains only. The darkness was too much, too blinding, too consuming. I stood by the closed door for a few minutes, just thinking of what my next move