All Chapters of My One-Night-Stand Alpha: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

(Almira's POV)It’s raining again.Not the kind of storm that rips trees apart or makes the sky look like it’s bleeding—just a soft, persistent drizzle. It slicks the earth, darkens the windowpanes, and blankets the world in a hush. Everything feels quieter in the rain.I sit curled up in the large armchair by the hearth, an old, knitted shawl draped over my shoulders. My fingers absently trace the rim of the mug in my hands—lukewarm tea now, the scent of ginger and lemongrass still clinging to the steam.Hazel is humming under her breath as she braids wildflowers into her doll’s coarse black hair. She talks to it as she works, whispering stories about ancient queens and brave daughters. The stories sound suspiciously familiar—versions of mine that I thought she was too young to remember.Asher is attempting to levitate an apple again. His brow is furrowed in concentration, little fingers twitching in midair.I feel the power swirl around the fruit—a low thrumming that vibrates just b

(Almira’s POV)The night had been quiet. Too quiet.Lysander had just brushed my knuckles with his, his voice low and warm, when I heard the shift in the air. It was subtle at first. A sudden chill. The woods around the private hot spring went still—no breeze, no crickets, no life.Then came the snap.A surge of magic ripped through the trees and cracked into the earth like a bolt from a storm. The water behind us erupted into steam, scalding and thick, just as Lysander grabbed my waist and pulled me down.*Boom!*The ground where we’d been seconds ago exploded. Fire licked at the edges of the moss-covered rocks.“What the hell?” I hiss, rolling up to my knees. My eyes dart to the shadows moving fast between the trees—hooded figures, hands glowing with blood-red light.Witches.Lysander’s face hardens as he shields me with one arm. “They’ve found us.”Another blast tears through the air, and Lysander growls, the sound guttural and furious. He shifts halfway, claws erupting from his ha

(Almira’s POV)The battle was over. The blood had been washed from the Citadel steps, the bodies taken care of, and the fires finally put out. But no one could sweep away what we all felt in our bones—that the world had changed.That I had changed.I walked slowly through the corridor, my limbs heavier than they’d ever been. The Citadel’s stone walls hummed softly with protective enchantments, but my magic—whatever I had unlocked when Lysander fell—was still pulsing faintly under my skin. Warm, golden, aching.I had killed them all.The witches. The corrupted werewolves with blue marks who’d screamed as they disintegrated beneath the blinding burst of light I’d poured out of my body.I remembered screaming Lysander’s name as I held him—his blood coating my hands, his heart slowing beneath my palms.And then…I remembered the Sunstone inside me cracking open like

(Almira’s POV)The wind was gentle today, the air thick with the scent of pine and sunshine. I took the twins to a nearby playground nestled in the outskirts of the village, where human children often laughed and played. Asher and Hazel ran ahead, their gleeful squeals piercing the air like music. For a brief moment, I let myself believe that we were safe—that we were normal.It had been weeks since I clawed my way out of the nightmare of their abduction. Weeks of unanswered questions, sleepless nights, and the echo of masked men dragging my children away. I still woke up drenched in sweat, expecting to hear their cries. But today, they smiled. They laughed. And that was enough.Until a shadow slid across the sunlit glade.The hum of an engine broke the fragile silence. A sleek black car—too polished, too deliberate—glided to a halt beneath the ancient oak that stood like a sentry at the edge of the playground. My blood froze. That car didn’t belong here. Not in this peaceful place.T

(Rich’s POV)The forest felt suffocating in its stillness, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath, waiting. I don’t know why I’d come out this far—maybe it was the weight of everything pressing on me, or maybe I just needed to get away from the ever-present tension back at the estate. I thought I was alone, just me and my thoughts, but the sudden shift in the air told me otherwise. Something was off.Then I heard it—the unmistakable growl of a rogue, low and hungry. Before I could even react, a massive form lunged at me from the shadows, its eyes gleaming with madness. Its claws slashed at the air, and for a split second, I was sure I was dead.But then—just as quickly—it was gone. A blur of motion, a shadow crashing into the rogue, knocking it to the ground.Lysander.He moved like lightning, a sleek black figure against the night. His claws ripped through the rogue with brutal precision, each strike more savage than the last. The rogue snarled in pain, but it was no us