บททั้งหมดของ The President's Mate: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

Jimmie’s POVThe moonlight poured in, soft and silver, the only source of light in Devon’s sculpted glass bedroom. It touched every edge of the room, like it had a purpose, like it knew this was a sacred place. Our sacred place.I lay there, completely bare, my body moulded against Devon’s chest, still, quiet, and warm beneath me. His skin was soft but firm, a contradiction in every beautiful way. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my ear, grounding me.I exhaled slowly, my fingers tracing lazy, tender circles around the lines and curves of his naked body beneath mine. Every ridge, every scar, every inch of him... I wanted to memorise it all.My body still ached from what we’d just shared— my entrance sore, used, and completely satisfied. A blush rose hot in my cheeks as I remembered how he’d held me up like I weighed nothing... the way he’d taken me, entered me slowly, gently at first, but then... gods.Devon’s dick... huge, rigid, manly—so him.I wasn’t even sure

Jimmie’s POV I sat still on the cushion, the silence of the apartment pressing in around me like a second skin. In my hands was Clementine’s sweater—one of her favourites. I had gotten it for her last birthday, wrapped it in crumpled brown paper because she hated anything too perfect. I still remember how her eyes had lit up when she saw it. She’d said, smirking with that half-wild look in her eyes, “Oh, Jimmie, is this your subtle way of admitting I have excellent taste in chaos?” I had laughed. Not because it was funny, but because she was. Clementine had this way of making you laugh when you least expected to, as if her words were little detonations of affection laced in sarcasm. The sweater matched her spirit completely. It was this cosy oversized knit thing, the colour of burned apricots with loud floral embroidery sprawling across one shoulder and down one sleeve. Wildflowers, stitched in yellows and violets, tangled like her always-messy hair. It had asymmetrical buttons do

Devon POV Darkness. It was the kind of black that felt thick, like a blanket soaked in oil- pressing, suffocating. Then, light. A cold strip of fluorescent light sliced through my skull as I blinked my way back into consciousness. I groaned. My body ached like I’d been dragged through gravel and thrown off a cliff. Every nerve buzzed with the echo of pain, but my wolf… he was quiet now. Subdued. Still there but muzzled, coiled in the dark. My head lolled to the side. Marble met my cheek, cool, unforgiving. Then I saw him. Franco. He was sitting on the floor beside me, back leaned against the pristine white tile of the bathroom wall, sleeves rolled up, tie loose, chest heaving like he’d run a marathon. His brows furrowed in that way they always did when worry edged too close to panic. “Hell, Devon,” he breathed, voice rough. “You scared me there.” I tried to rise, but my arms betrayed me. Weak. Heavy. Unresponsive. Franco was by my side in a blink, one arm under mine, helping

Devon POVThe wind clawed at me through the half-rolled window as the SUV rumbled down the old road leading out of Astria, bleeding twilight into the forest ahead. I kept my eyes on the path, one hand gripping the wheel tighter than I needed to, the other resting uselessly on my thigh. I could feel the tension in my knuckles. My chest. My mind.I had asked Franco to ride with me. I needed the silence. I needed space. I needed the damn air.And still, it wasn't enough.Eleanor’s face haunted the inside of my skull. Not the yelling, not even the tears. Just… the silence. That quiet after the storm, when she looked at me like she didn’t know who the hell I was anymore. Like she was seeing a stranger.Maybe she was.Maybe that’s all I am now, a stranger to the woman I swore to love, a stranger to the pack that trusted me, a stranger even to myself.I glanced at Franco. He was fast asleep, suit creased, exhaustion painted across his face. Loyal to the bone, that man. A better friend than I

Devon POVWe were circling now, Cassian and I in the hollowed centre of the Council chamber.Stone underfoot. Silence above. Shadows from the torches flickered across our bare skin.No one spoke.The pack had drawn back into the edges of the hall, forming a perfect ring. They stood like statues, warriors, elders, mates, and pups, every breath hitched, every eye fixed on the two of us.Cassian was focused. Poised.Every movement of his body was deliberate. Balanced. Controlled. He fought like a predator who knew exactly how lethal he was and had the arrogance to prove it.He’d trained his whole life for this. A warrior from bloodline to bone.And me?I hadn’t fought like this in years.Hell, I hadn’t even let my wolf out in years. Not since… him. But now, I was being challenged. For my name. My bloodline. My birthright.And for everything I still held dear… I had no choice but to answer.We struck.It was fast.Blows cracked through the chamber, raw, merciless, human but laced with mo