All Chapters of Bad Boy Alpha: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

The Shattered MirrorAzaria’s POVSomething was wrong with my reflection.At first, I thought it was just exhaustion. The kind that gnawed at my bones and turned thoughts into static. I hadn't really slept since the rescue. Since the chamber. Since Nicholas had carried me out of that underground tomb and whispered that I was safe now.Safe. That word barely meant anything anymore.I stared into the mirror above the washbasin in the Council guest suite, watching myself. My eyes, my hair, my lips. Everything looked the same. Almost.Except for the delay.My reflection moved a second too late.It blinked slower. Smiled when I didn’t.I blinked again—and the girl in the mirror didn’t.I felt cold creep down my back.The atmosphere had thickened and stirred my skin with intangible fingers. The wind blowing extinguished the candles throughout the room and wavering shadows swam on the wall. The mirror shook, vibrated, made a sound as though something were moving to escape.With no warning th

The Witch of FangsightAzaria’s POVThe borderland of Frostwood was chillier than I thought.The dead trees were covered with the snow, which looked like frostbitten fingers, and the wind whistled around the bone-like branches, singing songs of ghosts and warnings. My every step made a blood-trail in the snow, little scrapes on thorns by which I did not care to go round, bruises that made themselves unnoticeable.Vireya.The Witch of Fangsight.A name spoken in hushed tones even among covens, a figure buried in footnotes and sealed records. She was exiled decades ago—too dangerous, too curious. A witch who believed in blending bloodlines to harness forgotten magic. She had created things—things like me.Finding her had taken everything. Bribes. Secrets. Blood oaths. Even then, the directions I received weren’t directions at all—just riddles etched into tree bark, bones hung like signs, the smell of magic sharp in the air like burnt copper.But I found her.The trees whose upper branch

Divided TiesNicholas’s POVThe trail ended in ashes.Slow heavy unmelted flakes of snow were driving in our faces as we stood at the threshold of a cabin that had once been. The only thing that was left were black rocks, burned lumber and the aroma of magic that smelt like poison in the air. The frost on the ruins had thawed, and lay as slippery patches of water, and these were steaming, as though the earth would still do something about the fire.“She was here,” Killian said gently, kneeling by a fallen rune stone half buried in the earth. His tones were constricted, his talons close under the skin. “Recently.”Ashley was hovering over the ruins of a doorway, her brows drawn together, the eyes glowing dim violet as she surveyed the space.I stepped into the ruins slowly, heart pounding. The destruction was recent. Violent. The magical residue still sparked against my senses—uncontrolled and desperate.This wasn’t an attack.It was a battle.Moving further into the wreckage I searche

The Alpha’s OathNicholas’s POVThe war drums hadn’t started yet.But I could hear them—faint and distant—pounding in my blood like a warning. The wind carried whispers of change through the mountains. Clouds rolled heavy above, swollen with snow and silence. The world was holding its breath.And so was I.I stood at the edge of the camp, overlooking the valley below. Torches flickered like scattered stars in the dark, trailing up the cliffside and along the jagged perimeter. Tents dotted the ridgeline—ragtag, makeshift, but grounded in unity and grit.Not soldiers. Not council-blessed warriors.Rogues. Outcasts. Survivors.And yet—they followed me.Not because I promised glory or power. But because I vowed something far greater: vengeance, justice… something worth bleeding for.I clenched my fists against the cold. My breath fogged the air, slow and measured.Behind me, footsteps approached.Killian.His boots crunched frost as he stepped beside me, eyes scanning the camp with calm i

A Map Written in BloodNicholas’s POVPain had become a constant companion.It nestled beneath my ribs, throbbed in the base of my spine, and reminded me with every breath that I wasn’t invincible. That even Alphas bleed.The dagger wound Bran left behind festered with more than just torn muscle—it burned with betrayal. I still remembered the look in his eyes. The apology. The hesitation.And then the silence that followed.I should’ve died that night.But I didn’t.Because someone—Killian, I assumed—dragged me out of that hell while my own blood stained the Shattered Expanse.Now, every step I took on the muddy forest trail sent a tremor up my side. My left arm still wouldn’t move right. Ashley had warned me that the poison laced on the blade was slow-burning—made to weaken, not kill.Selene didn’t want me dead.She wanted me helpless.“Try not to limp like you’re on your last leg,” Killian muttered beside me. “You’re ruining my warlord aesthetic.”I grunted. “You know limping adds c