Все главы A DEAL WITH THE ALPHA DEVIL: Глава 1 - Глава 10

Fiona’s POV“Fiona!” Magnus’s voice thundered through the hallway, sharp and commanding. Even from behind the closed door, it made me shiver. His tone wasn’t a request; it was an order like always. My stomach twisted, the knot of anger I kept buried tightening. I took a breath, letting the icy air of my room fill my lungs. Whatever he wanted, I would face it the way I always had: head held high, no matter how much it cost me.I pushed open the door and made my way toward the grand hall, my shoes making sounds against the wooden floor. The sound echoed in the empty corridor, each step a reminder of the silence that ruled this house unless Magnus chose to break it. The shadowy lights overhead flickered as I passed, casting faint shadows that seemed to shrink under his rule, just like everyone else.When I entered the hall, I found him pacing in front of the massive fireplace. His presence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. He turned as I approached, his dark eyes locking onto me a

Fiona's POVIt wasn’t the dress that made me feel trapped, though. It was the man beside me, his presence colder than the walls surrounding us.Logan stood at my side, his posture very stiff and his expression unreadable. I could feel the space between us, very big and large as an ocean. His eyes, dull and uninterested, looked over my face as if he was preparing me for something far less personal than what we were about to do. His eyes met mine for only a little moment, a quick glance that lasted no longer than the flicker of a candle before it shifted away. He didn’t care what I thought. He didn’t care what I felt.I wasn’t his wife-to-be in his eyes. I was a tool, a means to an end. The union wasn’t for love or affection. It was for power and as much as I hated it ,, there was nothing I could do to escape it now."Fiona," logan's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, smooth and detached but carrying a faint hint of impatience. "Hold still. You’re fidgeting."I didn't respon

Logan's povThe tray in my hand was moving slightly as I climbed up the stairs to the basement. The sound echoed off the cold, stone walls, breaking the oppressive silence. My steps slowed as I reached the heavy wooden door. I’d thought leaving her down here would teach her a lesson, remind her of her place. Instead, all it did was leave me with a stupid restless unease that I couldn’t shake.I tightened my grip on the tray. The scent of the stew I’d reluctantly brought filled the corridor, but the warmth of the meal didn’t match the chill that settled in my chest. I unlocked the door and pushed it open.Fiona was sitting on the floor, her back against the far wall. Her hair was scattered, her clothes wrinkled and filled with dust, but her eyes, those fiery, defiant eyes__met mine immediately. They were sharp, unyielding and filled with a hatred that burned brighter than the weak bulb swinging from the ceiling.She didn’t say a word as I stepped inside. The door creaked shut behind me

Logan's povThe room was very quiet, except for the soft uneven rhythm of her sobs. Each sound rose and fell, like a haunting melody in the air, the weight of it settled heavily on my chest, though I refused to acknowledge it.Fiona lay curled on the bed, her slender body trembling as though she were made of glass, moments from shattering. Her wrists raw and bruised from her futile struggles, rested limply against the scattered sheets. Tears streaked her flushed face but her eyes were still burn with fury and disgust.When she turned her head sharply toward me, her movement betrayed the strain of hours spent in resistance. Her gaze, piercing and wild, locked onto mine. The hatred in her voice when she spoke struck like thunder..“I hate you,” she spat, her words trembling yet sharp. “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life”.I smirked, allowing my expression to settle into the cold indifference I’d long perfected. “Good,” I replied, leaning against the wall as though her

Fiona's pov I stared at Logan as he leaned against the stone pillar, his eyes sharp but distant. His words from last night haunted me, echoing in the corners of my mind. That curse he spoke of—not just a story, not just pain—it was a chain. A chain wrapped so tightly around him, it had twisted him into this cold, closed-off man I barely recognized anymore.And yet… I was starting to understand.The curse wasn’t just a burden. It was a poison, slowly taking over anything soft inside him. I saw it now in the way he stood, in the tightness of his jaw, in how he avoided looking me in the eye. I could feel the weight of it pressing down on him. And disturbingly, I could feel something pressing down on me too__pity.I hated that.Logan had dragged me into this world of silence and steel, of rules I never agreed to and cruelties I never deserved. And yet here I was, struggling to suppress sympathy for the man who’d done nothing but make me feel small.He didn’t deserve it. Not after the nig