A DEAL WITH THE ALPHA DEVIL のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 221 - チャプター 230

Fiona's pov“You feel that?” I asked, voice low, thumb pressed hard against Logan’s hand.“He’s near,” he said. His teeth showed in a half-snarl. The tunnel hummed with it, Wakanda’s flare rolling like distant thunder. The walls vibrated. “Then move,” I said. My fire lifted at my palms without asking, a bright ache that made my skin itch. Logan dragged me forward. His grip wasn’t gentle. We came out into the old council hollow faster than I expected, breath knocking against my ribs. The place smelled of old smoke and wolf fur and history. Paintings ran along the stone: worn faces, a throne, a wolf with a crown. My fingers left glittering trails of light on the murals. The power in this room answered to bloodlines. It hummed. It waited.“Rowan’s voice,” I said. “He’s trying to rally the pack, split them.”Logan’s jaw worked. “He plays politics like he plays with knives, slick and ugly.”We crouched in the shadow of a collapsed pillar. The name Amaiya traveled like cheap wine, sweet,

Logan's pov“Keep your head low,” I said, voice rough from the long run.Fiona didn’t reply, her steps cutting through the dirt road, cloak trailing behind her like a shadow. The old border stones of Whiteclaw rose ahead, cracked and half-buried under frost.“This isn’t home,” she murmured.“It was,” I answered.The air smelled wrong, smoke and fear and something sharp beneath it. From beyond the gates came voices, hushed and broken, the kind of murmuring that dies when you turn your head. Faces peered out from half-open doors, vanishing as fast as they appeared.Fiona slowed, jaw tight. “They’re afraid of you.”“They should be,” I said, and kept walking.The gates loomed taller than I remembered, patched with iron, our old crest slashed through and replaced by another, Rowan’s mark, sharp and proud.Fiona’s tone sharpened. “He really took everything.”I stared at the new sigil until my hands ached to tear it down. “Not everything.”A cluster of guards stepped from the shadows, armor

Logan's povThe next dawn found Whiteclaw uneasy. Every wolf in the stronghold moved like someone listening for a sound only they could hear.Logan walked the inner wall alone. From up here the pack looked smaller, corners empty, sentries keeping their eyes on one another instead of the trees. He could smell fear everywhere tangled together.Below, Fiona was training a fresh patrol. Her voice carried through the chill air, calm but edged. Serena moved among the recruits, her movements precise, her expression unreadable. Watching them side by side unsettled him in a way he couldn’t name.He was still watching when footsteps approached behind him.Amaiya.She had no right to be in his territory, and yet she walked straight toward him, cloak snapping in the wind, eyes cold. “You didn’t finish the job,” she said. “Your pack still looks broken.”“I should throw you off this wall,” Logan answered.“You could,” she said lightly, “but you won’t. You still want to know who opened the gates for

Fiona's povThe courtyard hadn’t cooled since Rowan’s retreat. Every step I took left a mark in the soot.Logan was somewhere behind me, silent as the shadows. He hadn’t said a word since Gwen vanished.I didn’t ask. I didn’t trust my voice to hold steady.Inside the hall, healers worked in silence. Wounded wolves lined the walls, faces pale under torchlight. One of them tried to bow when I passed. I told him not to.The fire in me hadn’t gone out. It only changed shape.When Serena met me near the stairwell, she didn’t speak. She just studied my face — her eyes sharp, her mouth set.“She’s real then,” she finally said.“Too real,” I answered.“She’s dangerous.”“So am I.”Serena stepped closer, her scent cutting through the smoke. “He froze when he saw her.”“I noticed.”“You’re going to let that go?”I looked past her, toward the shattered courtyard. “I don’t let go. I wait.”Serena’s lips curved, not quite a smile. “That’s worse.”Hours later, the hall emptied. The moon crept acros

Fiona's povRowan’s call. The kind that made the ground thrum and the air crawl down your spine.I didn’t wait for orders. I was already moving.Logan shouted my name behind me, but I didn’t stop. My pulse was wild. My wolf was louder.He was near.Outside, the courtyard blazed with movement—wolves shifting mid-run, guards raising alarms, lightning flashing behind the walls. The storm above felt alive, as if answering that cursed howl.Gwen was still inside. I could feel her presence like a stone in my throat.I didn’t trust her. The way she stood near Logan, the way her voice had softened when she said his name. It wasn’t just history. It was possession.I pushed the thought aside and sprinted toward the tower wall. The air stung my skin. My claws slid out without thought.Rowan’s scent was on the wind—iron, smoke, power.And something else. Fear.He wasn’t attacking yet. He was waiting.---Logan caught up to me at the gate, breath sharp, eyes glowing faint gold.“You shouldn’t be