MATED TO THE ALPHA HEIR のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Chapter 0002: A MATE OR A WEAPON XANDER, The pack house smelled of whiskey, leather, and the lingering scent of last night’s hunt. My latest conquest clung to my arm, her breath still shallow from exhaustion, but I barely noticed. My wolf prowled beneath my skin, unsettled, still thrumming with the thrill of the chase. Blood pumped hot in my veins, and yet, no amount of pleasure could shake the gnawing restlessness inside me. I lived for the hunt, for the rush of combat, for the reckless abandon of the night. What I didn’t live for? Pack politics. The grand oak table stood at the center of the room, polished and pristine—a stark contrast to the tension that always lingered around it. My grandmother and my brother, Xander, sat locked in a hushed but heated discussion. I barely spared them a glance. They could keep their territorial disputes and power games. I had no patience for it. I was almost free, halfway up the stairs to my room, when my grandmother’s voice cut through the ai

Chapter 0004: SEALED AND SIGNED AMARA I should have felt victorious. After all, I had just forced Xander Sinclair—one of the most ruthless Alphas of our generation—into an agreement that played right into my hands. I had seized control, flipped the power dynamic, and ensured my revenge was set in motion. But as I walked home from the underground fight, my knuckles raw, my ribs aching with every breath, and my mind still spinning from what I had just done, a quiet dread settled in my chest. Xander Sinclair never made deals without expecting something in return. And whatever he wanted from me, I knew it wouldn’t come without consequences. But I didn’t care. Revenge was all that mattered now. My mother’s health, too. I pushed open the door to my tiny apartment, kicking it shut behind me. It was a far cry from the warrior quarters I once held in my pack. The cracked walls, the persistent chill in the air, the faint scent of damp wood—this was my reality now. A stark contrast to the

CHAPTER 6: Bound by the Alpha vowAMARA,The night air was crisp, laced with the scent of pine and distant rain. The wind carried the eerie howls of wolves—wolves that weren’t ours. Their voices rose in a ghostly chorus, a haunting melody of the wild. My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin, instincts flaring in warning.We weren’t alone out here.I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag, my muscles coiled with tension. Every step away from that apartment, from the life I had barely managed to piece together, felt like stepping deeper into unknown territory. But hesitation was a luxury I couldn’t afford.Xander walked beside me, silent and predatory. His movements were smooth, effortless—like he was one with the darkness itself. I had known Alphas before. I had been promised to one. But Xander… he was something different.He wasn’t just a leader. He was a storm waiting to break.The black sheep of the Sinclair family. I had heard the whispers. When I was preparing for my mating cer

Chapter 8: Shadows of the PastAMARAThe night air was thick with tension, a cloying, suffocating thing that pressed against my skin like an omen. The echoes of Derek’s departure still clung to the grand hall, a spectral presence lingering in the heavy silence. But his rage wasn’t the only thing that remained.Something else stirred in the air—something old, something tainted.My wolf sensed it first, a ripple of unease beneath my skin. It was a scent beyond anger or resentment, beyond grudges and pack politics. It was wrong. A decay that didn't belong, the scent of rot buried beneath fresh earth.And it wasn’t just in the air.It was in the walls, in the candlelit corridors of the Crescent Moon Pack’s estate, in the hush that fell as Xander led me through the winding halls. It was in the paintings of past Alphas that lined the passageway—silent watchers, their golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. A trick of the flickering flames, or something more?The hair at the nape of my

Chapter 10: Missing XANDER Pain. A dull, relentless throbbing, like a war drum pounding inside my skull. It pulsed in tandem with my heartbeat, each wave crashing against the inside of my head, making my vision blur for a second too long. The world around me felt sluggish, movements distorted, as if I were trapped underwater, drowning in the aftermath of last night. The underground hall still reeked of sweat, liquor, and smoke—a suffocating mix that clung to the walls, the floors, and the bodies strewn across tattered couches and sticky tables. The remnants of last night’s chaos still lingered in the air, ghosts of music and voices whispering in the corners of my mind. I barely remembered how it had started. Only that Amara had been furious. The image of her burned in my mind, her dark eyes flashing with anger, lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line. She had been radiating frustration, her hands clenched into tight fists as she spat words at me—sharp, accusing, laced with so