All Chapters of A DEAL WITH THE ALPHA DEVIL: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Fiona's povWe started walking.Every step felt like the weight of the world seated against my chest, every breath breaking like glass against my throat. My mind refused to leave Logan’s face, the way his lips had turned pale, the warmth of his skin fading under my palms.He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. But each hour slipping by carried him closer to that final silence, and I could feel time dragging me into madness.My man would die if I failed. My love, my anchor. Tears clouded my sight until the trail ahead blurred. I bit them back, forcing myself forward. I didn’t have the luxury to cry. The mountain loomed miles away, jagged and black against the horizon, but close enough to fill me with dread. Each step closer carried a price. Every rustle in the trees, every echo in the wind whispered of monsters waiting.We tiptoed, blades at our sides, hearts pounding in our throats. No one dared speak. Even breathing too loud felt like an invitation to death.And then it happened.The

Fiona povThe fall knocked every breath from my chest. I hit the earth so hard that blackness smeared across my eyes. I thought that was the end, my mouth filled with blood. My body would not move, but my heart still beat, stubborn, ragged, clinging.For Logan breathe.I tried to lift my arm, and pain lanced through me. My lips trembled with his name. “Logan…”He was waiting for me, even if he did not know it. He was lying still, his lips pale, his chest barely moving. The image of him haunted me even now, and I pressed my hand against the dirt, forcing myself upright. I could not die here. Not now. Not when he needed me.Then I heard it.“Fioooona…”My head jerked upward. I thought it was Logan but that was impossible. My throat tightened. For a heartbeat, it fluttered, perhaps it was a guard, perhaps someone had come to help me.But the voice was wrong. I did not answer at first, I listened.The silence that followed was thick, like the mountain itself was listening. Then something

Fiona's povMy hands clutched the glowing plant until the thorns cut deeper into my skin, but I didn’t care. Every step pounded through my bones as I forced myself out of the strange field, praying the path would lead me back to Logan.My Logan was dying.The mountain had flung me into madness and riddles, but I had endured. I carried the cure he needed. My ribs ached, my legs shook, but none of that mattered. If I could place this plant on his chest, if I could hold him one more time, then maybe, just maybe, I would win against time.The trees parted, revealing the wide boundary of Whiteclaw. The sight of it made my chest heave, walls tall and heavy with guards, smoke rising beyond them. I felt both relief and dread at once. I was nearly there.Then I saw him.Rowan.He stood at the boundary, his figure cutting sharp against the gray light. His cloak dragged behind him, his eyes narrowing as they fell on me. For a heartbeat, I thought he was just another vision sent to torment me. B

Fiona's povI lowered Logan onto the stone floor, every muscle in my body screaming from the weight of carrying him this far. His chest rose faintly, slow but steady. The plant’s bitter brew lingered on his lips, but still he had not opened his eyes.Above, Whiteclaw shook with chaos. Shouts tore the walls, steel clashed, and the scent of burning wood seeped through the cracks of the dungeon. The enemy pack had breached the gates. Serena’s voice rang sharp once, commanding her fighters, but it was swallowed quickly by the storm. Without Logan at their front, the warriors faltered, their lines broken.Then I heard it—the footsteps. Heavy. Certain. The floor above me groaned as they entered Logan’s chamber.“Turn it all over,” a voice ordered, deep and commanding. It was laced with the kind of cruelty that made men obey without question.Draven. Alpha of the Blackfang. His reputation had traveled across packs like smoke from a wildfire: merciless, ruthless, unstoppable. Now his boots gr

Fiona's povKael’s blade gleamed inches from my throat, its sharpness catching the faint light that filtered through smoke above the courtyard. The chants of Ironfang soldiers pounded around me, their roars feeding Kael’s ego.At first, I thought I imagined it. A wish made desperate, a hope clawing at shadows. But then it came again. A pulse surging upward through the stone, steady, commanding, alive.Kael faltered. His arm hesitated mid-air, his dark gaze flicking downward as if the very earth mocked him. Around us, murmurs swept the enemy ranks, uncertainty sliding like oil through their triumph.I bit down a smile. They couldn’t see it, but I felt it. Beneath our feet, he stirred.Logan.Kael snarled, recovering his poise. “Tricks. A dying pack’s wishful delusion.” He swung the blade higher, ready to sever my life, ready to seal Whiteclaw’s doom with my blood.But the ground bucked. A violent tremor cracked through the courtyard, splitting the stones beneath me. Shouts erupted, sol