All Chapters of Alpha’s Dark Redemption : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Lucas's POVI left Selina’s office and didn’t bother pretending I had a goddamn clue what I was doing. The drive home was a blur, leather steering wheel slick under my palm, teeth grinding with every turn. The engine purred like it knew what I wanted: speed, risk, something to set the nerves ablaze and drown out the aftertaste of her perfume, her voice, and the memory of her lips stained on mine. My house—no, my territory—loomed at the top of the hill, empty but never silent, because my own thoughts never let up.I tossed my keys onto the marble credenza, the metallic clatter echoing down the hall like a gunshot. I didn’t need to see the rest of the place. I headed straight for my study and slammed the door behind me, hard enough that the ancient oak complained. Lately, I’d been thinking with my cock, not my head, and that was a luxury I could no longer afford. I sat, hunched over the desk, staring at the old burn mark on the lacquer and running my finger over it like a worry stone.I

Lydia's POVMy father wore his disappointment like it was a fucking accessory: an unwashed, beloved scarf reeking of cigar smoke and old blood. He sat on the edge of his ratty armchair, cracked knuckles digging gouges into the wood of his cane, jaw grinding to the rhythm of his thoughts. I'd heard this particular symphony of delusion and bitterness before, but the overture never failed to amuse. Or infuriate.“Father,” I said, keeping my voice low because last time I’d raised it, he threw a whiskey glass at my head and I had no intention of bleeding out on this carpet, even if it did hide stains like a champ. “You know Lucas won’t marry me. The deal was with his father. His father is, you know, decomposing. Lucas Blackwood is, tragically, not sentimental.”He looked up, pupils tiny pinpricks of icy blue. His hair, greasy and wild, caught the only shaft of sunlight allowed in our den, and for a second he looked almost regal. If you squinted. “You give up too easily, Lydia.”“Give up? I

Selina's POVI had one leg in my jeans and a mascara wand jammed between my lips, and then the door blew open so hard the knob gouged a chunk out of the drywall. I spun so fast the wand dropped, skipped over the floorboards, and rolled under my dresser. Classic. Of course it was Lucas.He didn’t say a word at first—just stood in the open doorway like the world’s most overbearing landlord, arms folded, filling the whole goddamn frame. I’d caught him out of uniform: plain white tee, old jeans, and and that glare that said, “I eat people for breakfast.” All that muscle packed into brooding, silent judgment.“What the fuck, Lucas!” I hissed, snatching at the hem of my tank to yank it down. I made no move for the jeans. If he wanted to leer, he could choke on it.He was already stalking in, eyes locked on me like a target. “You know, there’s this little thing called knocking,” I snapped. “Ever heard of it? You just about dislocated my shoulder last week screaming about ‘privacy.’”He didn’

Lydia's POVPatience, they say, is a virtue. In reality, it’s a badge of humiliation—one more mark on my record of being made to wait, to simmer, to squirm under the weight of expectation. I pressed a cigarette between my lips and watched the end burn to ash in the rearview, letting the smoke claw at my lungs while I counted out the seconds it would take to make myself act. I didn’t even like the taste, but the ashy sting was something to focus on besides the absolute goddamn nerve of Lucas Blackwood.The council building squatted ahead, glass and metal all sharp lines and square edges, as if trying to bludgeon the forest into submission by geometry alone. I parked right up front, like a show of dominance, and stomped out the cigarette on the curb with a twist of my boot. If anyone was watching, I wanted them to see. Maybe they’d tell Lucas, maybe they’d tell his precious mate—the one he fucked on a pedestal while using my mouth as a substitute. Maybe that was what he liked best: the

Selina's POVI’d gotten so used to pretending, sometimes I forgot which lie was supposed to stick. The new one—this year’s special—was that I belonged here and that it mattered.The phone rang as I was pulling on tights with a snag running up the thigh. Not even noon, and already I’d ruined another pair. I considered letting it go to voicemail, but the number flashed red across the screen, the kind of color meant for emergencies. I recognized it anyway. Only one human would be stupid enough to try calling me from the gatehouse.“Selina, I am at the gate, and they don’t want to let me in.” Jonathan’s voice, tinny and desperate, even over the cheap phone speaker. “They’re fucking saying my name all weird. And there’s a guy here with—Christ, he looks like he wants to shoot me.”I sank down on the mattress, still half-dressed, and wedged the phone between my shoulder and jaw. I was getting good at these damage control missions. “Sorry, it’s orders from Lucas. You can go back; I’ll come se