All Chapters of Contract Marriage To The Alpha King : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Damian's POV Her sobs. The sound grated on every raw nerve ending, a discordant symphony I despised. They cut through the thick, suffocating blanket of my rage in a way I found infuriating, like dull claws scraping against a stone. Not enough to inflict actual pain, not enough to pierce the protective armor of my fury, but just enough to gnaw at my last shred of composure, a constant, irritating hum beneath the roaring storm. I could still hear her behind me, the ragged rhythm of her breathing, shallow and uneven, a pathetic testament to her struggle. I imagined her, pulling herself together, trying to staunch the flow of tears, trying to summon the courage to utter the words she believed would absolve her. Pathetic. The thought was a bitter bile in my mouth. I tilted my head back, the cold glass of the whiskey bottle pressed to my lips, and drained another mouthful, letting the fiery liquid burn its path down my throat. I wanted to drown out the sound of her crying, to obliter

Ava's POV The deafening slam of the door behind him reverberated through the silent mansion, shaking the very walls, rattling the ornate fixtures on the antique sideboards. And then, just as suddenly, an awful, heavy silence descended, pressing down on my chest until it felt like all the air had been squeezed from my lungs. It was a vacuum, a terrifying void where his furious presence had just been. I didn't even realize, at first, that my legs had given out beneath me. One moment I was standing, a fragile sentinel against his rage, the next I was sliding, crumpling to the polished wooden floor. My back hit the cold, unyielding surface of the very door he had just stormed through, a stark reminder of his abrupt departure. I huddled there, knees drawn tightly to my chest, arms wrapped around myself in a desperate, futile attempt to hold my fractured pieces together. But it was useless. A fool's errand. The first sob tore from my throat, raw and agonizing, before I could even r

Ava's POV Hours passed. Each one a suffocating eternity. The vast, echoing silence of the Blackwood mansion was broken only by the faint, rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the distant hallway, a relentless count of my isolation. I’d stayed in the bedroom all day, then all evening, a prisoner of my own dread and the silent pact I’d made with my wolf. My phone, cold and heavy, was clutched in my trembling hand, though it never rang, never stirred with a message. Every time a car passed on the distant street outside the fortified gates, my breath caught in my throat, a desperate, irrational hope fluttering in my chest—but it never stopped here. No one came. I was truly alone. It was well past midnight when I finally heard it. The unmistakable, heavy slam of the front door, reverberating through the very foundations of the mansion, shaking the opulent silence. I froze, sitting bolt upright on the edge of the bed, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. His

Damian's POV She landed with a soft thud against the plush mattress, the delicate silk gown fluttering around her, her hair spilling out across the pillows like a dark wave, framing her face. Her eyes were wide with shock—and stark, naked fear. The silent terror I saw there twisted something in my gut, but it was quickly overridden by the raging beast. I stood there above her, towering, a dark, imposing silhouette, my hands fisting at my sides, knuckles white, trembling with suppressed violence. My breath came in harsh, ragged pulls, tearing through my burning throat. My shirt was half-open, my jaw locked so tight it hurt, my teeth grinding together. My wolf howled in my chest, a furious, wild, relentless sound, demanding I do something, anything, to reclaim what was mine, to punish her for this unforgivable transgression. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing shallow, her eyes fixed on me, reflecting a deep, primal terror. She scrambled backward on the mattress, a desp

Damian's POV I let the page fall from my hand, the heavy contract landing with a soft thud on the mattress, the damning words hanging in the air like a perfectly woven noose, tightening with every beat of her terrified heart. “Do you understand now, Ava?” I murmured, leaning in close, my breath hot against her face, so she could feel the venom in my every word, smell the intoxicating scent of my rage. “You signed yourself over to me. Every inch of your body, every moment of your time, every thought you have. Wherever, whenever—I decide. I don’t need your fucking permission. Not now. Not ever.” My voice was a low, dangerous growl, filled with triumph and contempt. Her lips parted, a silent gasp of horror, but no sound came out. Just a shuddering breath, a choked sob she tried desperately to swallow, her throat working convulsively. Her eyes, wide and unfocused, stared at the contract, then back at me, a silent scream trapped within them. “You didn’t even bother to read it, did