All Chapters of Bound to Alpha Salvatore : Chapter 61 - Chapter 65

First Person’s PerspectivePercyIt had been over three weeks since my father was buried.Three weeks of crying, three weeks of carrying a heavy heartI struggled to keep this secret because I was scared of what Ron might to do meThe castle had gone quiet since the funeral—eerily quiet, like even the walls were trying to forget him. The rooms that once echoed with his footsteps now carried only silence. The servants spoke softer. The guards moved slower. The laughter that once flowed freely through the corridors had vanished.Everyone was trying to move on.Everyone except me.Because I couldn’t.Because I knew.Not just that he died. But how.I still remembered the feel of his hands on me that night, the cruelty in his breath, the way he pushed me to the bed and hissed for me to stay silent. I remembered the panic clawing up my throat. The bruise on my thigh. The ache in my soul.I didn’t cry when they lowered him into the ground.I felt… nothing.And yet, now, I felt everything—all

First Person’s PerspectiveElenaThe room they gave us for the night was big. Too big. It had soft lights, heavy curtains, and a large bed right in the center. The kind of room meant for royalty, or lovers. The kind of room that echoed with expectations.My steps were slow as I walked in. My heels made soft thuds against the rug lined floor, but I barely noticed. My mind was still stuck on what I had heard during the coronation.Those elders… what they said… about Ron…It kept playing in my head like a broken melody. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My stomach felt tight, like a knot had formed and refused to unravel.Salvatore walked behind me, calm as always. When we entered the room, he gently closed the door. I heard the soft click as he locked it.That sound echoed louder in my chest than it should have.I stayed near the edge of the bed, standing still, my arms crossed tightly. My eyes stayed on the floor, tracing the patterns in the rug. I didn’t even bother sitting down.He

First Person’s PerspectiveElenaThe sun was already high, but the air inside the great hall felt heavy…like a thunderstorm was building behind the stone walls. The golden banners fluttered slightly from the open balconies above, but even the breeze couldn’t cut through the tension lacing the room. The atmosphere was brittle, and the slightest wrong move could shatter the fragile peace.I was standing near the food table, pretending to inspect a tray of fruit I had no intention of eating, when a commotion at the far end of the corridor pulled my attention. My eyes caught movement near the eastern archway—and my stomach twisted.Ron.He was crawling out like some mangled beast, his body hunched, one hand clutching his side, the other dragging against the polished floor. His shirt was torn, soaked with blood around the collar and sleeve, and his face—gods, his face looked like it had been through a meat grinder. Swollen lip. Split brow. Dried blood streaked across his cheek like war pai