All Chapters of Alpha’s Dark Redemption : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Vera's POVJonathan moved like a fucking demon that day. I could still see his body in the air, blurred along its own axis, as if someone had crossbred a linebacker with a specter and taught it how to be disappointed in me. I’d spent the last two hours staring at the ceiling of my room, tracing the spider cracks between paint and plaster, and every branching fissure led me back to him—his voice, the crisp cut of his “stay away from me and Selina,” and the physics-defying way he’d crossed the entire den to loom over me in one breathless moment.I even tried it myself—got up, stood by the couch, and timed how long it took me to reach the kitchen entry where he’d landed. No human man could’ve done that without at least some brisk cardio, or maybe a pair of those rollerblades my brother was obsessed with in third grade. But Jonathan wasn’t human, was he?Except he was. By every file and record and embarrassing family photo Selina had forced on me, Jonathan was a garden-variety homo sapien

Lucas's POVSelina could fuck anyone she wanted. I just wished it wasn’t always Jonathan and that she wouldn’t do it in places I could smell. It wasn’t even about jealousy, not really. It was the way she met my eyes as she bounced on his cock in the back seat of his shitty G-wagon, how she bared her teeth at me over his shoulder—defiance, contempt, and something wilder, maybe even longing. All that, while I stood by the open car door, one hand on the frame, the other fisting my own frustration in my pocket. She liked hurting me more than she liked getting off.But that was last night. By morning the memory was just another sore tooth in my skull, pushed aside by the pain of today’s obligations. I stood in front of the hotel bathroom mirror, cold water dripping from my jaw, and watched the bruises under my eyes fade from livid purple to the sallow yellow of a healing wound. My knuckles were only a little swollen from what I’d punched after Selina’s performance. The suit was navy and ta

Lucas's POVI drummed my fingers against the polished mahogany table, watching as the other alphas gathered their papers and exchanged final pleasantries. The meeting had dragged on for hours, each minute stretching like pulled taffy as we debated territory lines and hunting rights. My head throbbed with the beginnings of a migraine. It wasn't until everyone began filing out that I remembered I'd sent Grant home early—a decision I was now regretting as I contemplated the long journey back to my pack lands without my Beta or his car."You fuck so well, Blackwood."The voice slid into my ear like warm honey laced with poison. I didn't need to turn to know who it belonged to. LydiaSykes—Alpha of the North Side Pack—stood behind me with her lips curved into what she probably thought was a seductive smile. Her perfume—too floral, too strong—invaded my senses, making my wolf bristle beneath my skin.I looked up at her, taking in the tight dress that she had now changed into that hugged her

Lucas's POVMonday had the ugly habit of showing up three times a week. By the time I parked in front of Blackwood Enterprises, the taste of burnt espresso was already a memory, and my inbox’s death rattle echoed from the passenger seat. I left the car running, like maybe if I was quick I could finish the day and leave myself idling in the lot, untouched by meetings and small talk and whatever crisis the interns had manufactured overnight.I was through the sliding doors before the security guard had time to finish his “good morning, Mr. Blackwood.” The lobby was just as I’d left it: the walls were all sterile glass, the floor was marble, and the ceilings were so high that voices drifted up and died before they could reach you. An elevator opened just as my shoes left the rug. If I believed in luck, I’d have called it a sign. I didn’t.By the time I reached the 37th floor, my phone had vibrated eight times. I ignored each one. Let the fires burn. Maybe the building would smell better i

Selina's POVLydia Skyes had the kind of face you wanted to slap, but only after you took a minute to be impressed by how painstakingly she’d curated the effect. Bone structure worthy of genetic engineering. Brows shaped like punctuation marks. And the lipstick—a suffocating fuchsia that made you wonder if she’d dipped her mouth in a vat of Barbie gore. She smiled at me, wide enough to threaten the seams of her cheeks. I was half-convinced she’d had her molars replaced with pearls or something more expensive.Her dog, a pocket-sized white gremlin with the posture of a hungover debutante, wore an actual Louis Vuitton slip dress, so meticulously fitted that the tag was visible, like a threat. Lydia held the dog as if she expected it to begin reciting investment tips, or maybe it already had. The animal’s black, tarry eyes scouted the room for someone more interesting than its owner and, finding none, settled on Vera. The feeling was not mutual.Vera, my assistant, greeted this performan