All Chapters of Mated to Three Alphas: Chapter 61 - Chapter 67

Damian’s POV I dreamed my mother again. The dream came quick and hard, like a hand slamming a door. I stood where the old birch grove used to be. The air smelled like lavender and wet earth. Her hair was the same as in the stories—silver and heavy. Her voice had the sound of wind through dry branches. “Listen,” she said. Her eyes did not soften. They dug into me. “He means to wake it.” I asked who. The word left my mouth small and useless. She pointed without moving, and the ground under my feet shook. I saw a shadow under the Blood Fang mountains. It was huge. Scales like black glass slid inside the cracks. Eyes glowed like coals. Chains held it, thick and old, carved with runes that pulsed like a dying heart. “He will spill her blood,” she said. “The girl’s blood will break the seals. The beast will rise and it will not bow. You must stop him.” I told her she was dead. I told her the past was gone. Her face did not change. “Have I lied to you?” she asked. Her voice turne

Damon’s POV Rain came down like punishment. It soaked the roofs and turned the paths to mud. I liked the rain that night. It hid footprints. It softened sounds. It made men slower and less sure. I moved through the servants’ passages like a ghost trained to vanish. My men followed close, silent and ready. We kept our faces low beneath cloaks. The oil lamps guttered and the wind stole their light. Perfect weather for a theft. I had waited for the storm. I had let the keep settle into tiredness and false safety. I had bribed a pair of watchmen to stagger their patrols. I had paid for a stable boy’s silence and the key to a side gate. I had maps folded in my head. Each step had been paid for and planned, small coins spent on small men. Most men sold themselves cheap. I used that. Lyra’s power had changed the rules. She hit a priest and broke a ward. That did not make her predictable. It made her dangerous and clever. I did not want to drag a live wire into my hands without a soft

Damian’s POV Word had reached me then that the Council had already sent a rider to the High Temple. Dominic’s men had moved fast. Their pace meant angle. They did not move like men who took something in anger. They moved like men who had planned the night. My anger snapped into a new edge. Not only had someone taken her, but they had done it with a plan. They had done it with pockets full enough to buy silence and speed. That meant an enemy who thought long and liked to cut from the inside. I thought of Damon. I thought of his hands on the ledger he had stolen in my halls. I thought of his quiet words when he said he would “keep her alive until he decided.” He had spoken like a thief who loved the sight of a prize. He had moved like a man who hid knives in smiles. He had taken her. I told myself not to be rash. A son’s rage could be a father’s mistake. The elders would turn if I stormed and proved nothing. Dominic would laugh and bind the pack tighter. Still, I made a choice in