A DEAL WITH THE ALPHA DEVIL のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

Fiona's povI had never seen so many Alphas in one room.Not like this.Not with their claws close to unsheathed and their eyes darting toward me like I was the bomb no one wanted to admit was ticking.The Blackridge great hall had been cleared and reforged for this summit—stone polished, torches burning, the old crest of the united packs raised above the central dais. But it wasn’t ceremony that brought them here.It was fear.Silas stood beside me, arms folded, stone-faced. Logan remained behind me, near the edge of the firelight. I could feel him there—his power a low hum beneath my ribs, protective but controlled.I didn't dare reach for him.Not with the entire room watching.“You asked us to come,” growled Thorne of Ironjaw, eyes like dark coals. “So speak. Tell us why you’ve summoned Alphas across the five bloodlines. Why we risked our borders for you."I met his gaze. “Because war has already begun. You just haven’t realized it.”A ripple of murmurs.One of the younger Alphas

Fiona's povThe moon rose red not evem tinged or a crimson through clouds. Just red like blood spattered across bone.The moment I stepped onto the battlements, I felt it. Every hair on my arms lifted. Every instinct screamed that something ancient had cracked wide open.“They’re coming,” Silas muttered beside me, his eyes locked on the tree line. “But it’s not just rogues this time.”He didn’t need to say more.I could see it.The shadows slithered between the pines like smoke. The wind carried howls that didn’t belong to wolves—twisted, metallic, wet. And above it all, in the distance—That cursed sigil.The Hollow King’s banner.Torn cloth wrapped around a sunless crown.I didn’t wait.I ran down to Logan, who stood already in armor, his hands wrapped, eyes glowing faintly with power that hadn’t settled in weeks.“Are you sure you can fight?” I asked.“I don’t have a choice.”He stepped forward and kissed me rough and fast, like it might be the last time.“I’ll hold the line,” he w

Logan's pov Pain didn’t come in waves anymore. It came in fire, constant, consuming, licking every vein like a fuse had been lit under my skin. My body wasn’t mine.It was a battlefield of magics that didn’t belong to each other, tearing down whatever made me whole.The bond was gone.I could still feel her. Fiona. Distant. Dim. Like a candle flickering behind a locked door I no longer had the key for.I was floating, maybe. Or buried. I couldn’t tell. Sometimes I felt the forest again—the wind on my face, her arms around me, her voice begging me to stay. But those moments faded too fast, overtaken by the thing inside me, whispering in a language my throat remembered but my mind didn’t.A voice that felt old.Not cruel just… patient.I don’t remember arriving at Blackridge. Only the smell of blood. My own. Smoke. Fiona’s hands slick and trembling. Voices shouted. Spells chanted. Cold cloth pressed to my skin. Someone said “He’s not breathing,” and I wanted to laugh. I was breathing.

Logan's pov That night, I didn’t sleep.Fiona did, barely curled beside me despite everything. Her breathing was shallow, her shoulders tense even in sleep, like her magic knew before she did that I wasn’t safe to touch.I watched her and counted the rise and fall of her chest. The small, unconscious movements—her fingers twitching toward mine, her brow furrowing like she was dreaming of something just out of reach.I didn’t know if it was love anymore.Or habit or hope but it wrecked me, the way she stayed.Even when I didn’t deserve it.Even when I wasn’t sure what would wake up in my body the next time I closed my eyes.At some point, I slipped from the bed and stepped barefoot onto the cold stone. I didn’t need light—my eyes had changed. I could see in the dark now, but not the way wolves do. This was Stranger.The shadows spoke when I walked past them.I don’t mean metaphorically. I mean they moved their mouths.Whispers in a language I didn’t know. Not in the waking world. But

Fiona's pov I sat beside Logan’s bed long after the torches burned low and the halls outside fell silent.He slept, but not peacefully. His body twitched, his brow furrowed, and every so often he would mutter something, words I didn’t understand, but felt like knives against the inside of my chest.Words older than this world. Words my blood reacted to like they were written into me before I was born.I wanted to hold his hand, but sometimes even my touch made his body convulse. So I sat close enough to hear his breath, uneven and shallow, and I whispered things I hoped he could still hear.“You’re still you,” I said quietly, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it. “You’re still mine. I don’t care what’s waking up inside you.”Outside, Blackridge felt like it was holding its breath. Elandra had warded the tower, posted loyal guards, and made it clear no one was to disturb us. The whispers had started anyway.They feared him. My pack. Our people. Even the ones who had once called him A