Todos los capítulos de The Alpha's Mute Mate : Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

The moment Sebastian entered the chamber, the temperature in the air shifted—thickened like the press of a storm on bare skin. I stood at the center of the stone floor, shackled not by chains, but by a band of ancient wolfbane etched into the collar around my neck, suppressing my wolf and searing my soul.I didn’t move. Not when he approached, not when his bootsteps echoed like war drums in the hollowed-out temple room he’d turned into his throne. I could feel his gaze burn across my face like poison dipped in silk, but I didn’t lift my eyes. Submission was survival. Stillness was power. My silence had always unsettled him more than any scream could.He circled me like a beast sniffing prey, fingers brushing my shoulder with that sickening familiarity he often performed—mockery disguised as affection. "Still quiet, my little moon shadow," he whispered, voice low and cruel, threading around me like barbed wire. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t blink. He hated that. His fingers trailed

The sound of his footsteps echoed like a curse down the stone corridor. I didn’t flinch, didn’t breathe, didn’t even blink. I had trained myself into stillness, mastered the art of vanishing within my own skin. My spine remained straight despite the tremor crawling through it. I kept my face a mask of calm, even though my insides boiled like a pot on the brink of overflow. The stench of dark magic rode in with him—thick, invasive, unclean.It curled around me like smoke from a dying fire, and I had to fight the instinct to gag. The monster had arrived. And I would be ready.Sebastian entered like he owned the air around him. His presence always felt like a wound being reopened, over and over. Even when he smiled, there was no warmth—only possession. His gaze crawled over me like insects on skin, dissecting, claiming, and enjoying what he believed he had already conquered. I forced my heartbeat to slow, even though each thud felt like a cannon inside my chest. I refused to give him t

The grand hall was a cathedral of shadows and secrets, lit only by the flicker of blue fire that danced along the enchanted sconces. Gold-trimmed obsidian walls loomed around us, casting strange reflections in the polished onyx floor. At the center of the room, a long, bone-white table stretched like a spine through the chamber, set with crystalline goblets, gleaming silverware, and food that shimmered with illusionary charm. The feast looked divine—but I knew better. In this place, even beauty had venom in its veins.I stood beside Sebastian, draped in midnight silk, my wrists adorned with cuffs that looked like jewelry but were enchanted restraints. My hair had been styled by his witches—twisted and pinned with thorns of black gold. A collar of sapphire fire circled my throat like a halo of defiance, hiding the faint marks of chains. My face was calm. My hands are steady. But beneath the mask, my pulse thudded like war drums.This dinner was no celebration. It was a declaration.

I didn’t sleep.Even as dawn broke through the heavy velvet curtains like a thief, pale gold light spilling over the cold stone floors, I remained where I’d been for hours—sitting with my back to the wall, knees drawn to my chest, eyes wide open. My bones ached, but I didn’t care. Pain was familiar. It was safer than sleep. Sleep meant surrendering to dreams, and my dreams had long stopped offering comfort. These days, they were plagued with images I couldn't erase—of burning walls, blood-drenched roses, the weight of Sebastian's body above mine, his scent clinging to my skin like a brand. And worst of all, the silence.Not mine. His.That terrifying, calm silence he carried like a crown. Sleep could wait. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down, not now, not ever again.The engagement ring sat a few inches from my bare feet—small, glittering, mocking. At some point during the night, I had yanked it off my finger, not out of anger or despair, but because it felt like it was leechi

The fire had long since died by the time morning bled through the high windows, but the scent of char still lingered, clinging to the tapestries and drifting through the stone corridors like the ghosts of the past I’d tried to burn away. That ruby rose—the symbol of a promise never kept, of a love that was never truly given—had turned to molten nothing in the hearth, and yet, in my chest, its memory pulsed like a phantom limb. I had stared into the flames for hours, watching them consume something precious with the same hunger that had once devoured my trust. The silence that followed was deafening. It wrapped around me like a mourning shroud, thick and suffocating, but strangely comforting. In the quiet, I didn’t have to lie. I didn’t have to smile. I didn’t have to pretend I wasn’t crumbling beneath the weight of a crown forged from cruelty and silence.I didn’t sleep—not in the way normal people did. My body rested, but my soul remained restless, pacing within me like a cag