All Chapters of A DEAL WITH THE ALPHA DEVIL: Chapter 231 - Chapter 240

Logan's povThe sun came up too red.It shone across the mountains like it was a Bloodmoon.The courtyard smelled of burnt leaves. Wolves moved in silence, armor creaking, eyes a little too bright. They’d seen what clawed the gates last night. They just didn’t want to believe it.I pulled on my jacket, tied the blade to my thigh. “We ride east,” I told Merek. “I want the missing scouts found before midday.”He nodded, but his hesitation was obvious. “If what’s out there isn’t alive, Alpha—”“Then it still bleeds,” I said.Fiona stepped out of the main hall just as the riders gathered. Her hair was tangled, her expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t go alone.”“I’m not.”“I mean without me.”“No.”Her jaw clenched. “You don’t order me when it comes to danger.”“I do when you’re the danger.”Her eyes flashed silver, that new light I’d been pretending not to notice. “You think I’ll turn?”“I think you don’t know what you are right now.”The words hit harder than I meant them to. For a sec

Fiona's povZona stood near the gate, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Logan had given him a place among the outer riders, close enough to watch, far enough to strike if needed.I didn’t like it.“Keep him where I can see him,” I told Merek.He nodded once, gaze wary. “You think he’s lying?”“I think everyone is lying right now,” I said, tightening the straps on my armor.Logan emerged from the healer’s tent. The night hadn’t been kind to him. Shadows rimmed his eyes, but his stance was steady again, the weight of command settling on his shoulders.When he looked at me, it was the old Logan for a moment—the one who laughed under the moonlight and promised forever. But forever had teeth now.“We move at dusk,” he said.“Too late,” I replied. “The longer we wait, the stronger the veil gets.”He studied me. “You’ve felt it too?”“Yes,” I admitted. “Like the ground’s breathing.”He hesitated, then nodded. “Then we ride sooner.”He walked away before I could say more. The bond betw

Fiona's povWhen I came to, the world smelled wrong.“Logan?” My voice barely made it past my throat. “Logan!”No answer. The ground was cracked and blackened where the veil had split. Wolves lay scattered, breathing, most of them, but weak. The air paused, like the earth itself was halted by a mass force.I forced myself up. My power itched under my skin, restless, half wild. The bond that tethered me to Logan pulsed somewhere ahead.“Get the wounded to the ridge!” I shouted. My voice steadied before my body did. A few pack warriors stirred, obeying. Eyes wide, trembling, looking at me like I was the last thing holding this world upright.We moved. I stumbled once, caught myself on a tree that bled sap as dark as ink. The forest had changed overnight. Leaves hung heavy and gray; every sound came back warped, hollow.“Fiona!” Serena’s voice cracked from behind. She ran to me, dirt streaked across her face. “Half the pack’s gone.”“Gone where?”“Gone,” she said again, voice smaller. “L

Logan's povThe first thing I noticed was the smell.Something like the air had burned but refused to die.The ground under me was cracked, still warm. I rolled onto my side, ribs grinding, and pushed up. The sky looked split open, gray veins pulsing through it.Fiona was crouched beside me, hair tangled, hands shaking but steady enough to pull me up.“You’re alive,” she said.“Close enough,” I managed.She pressed a water flask to my mouth. I took one swallow, spat out grit. The taste of stone and ash lingered.“Where’s Gwen?” I asked.Her jaw tightened. “Gone. With whatever she stole from the veil.”I ran a hand down my arm. The runes still glowed faintly, like dying embers under skin. My wolf shifted uneasily, pacing inside me. “She took him with her, didn’t she?”“Maybe not all of him,” Fiona said quietly.I wanted to argue, but she was probably right. Rowan never died clean. He always left a shadow behind.The field around us was wrecked. Trees splintered like bones, dirt turned

Fiona's pov“Don’t move,” I said.Logan stopped halfway through standing. His leg was bleeding again. He gave me a look that said he’d move anyway if he had to. Typical.The ridge stretched ahead, torn up and blackened. The pack had made camp there, or what passed for it. Tents were half burnt, and fires smoked low. I counted faces I knew and too many I didn’t see.Zona met me halfway up the slope. His arm was still wrapped in a strip of cloth that had once been a shirt. “Twenty-one breathing. Twelve missing. A few turned strange.”“Strange how?” I asked.“Like him,” he said, tilting his head toward Logan.I didn’t look. “Keep them separate. No one near them until I say.”He nodded and left.The air felt heavy again, not with magic, just weight. The kind that comes when too many people are waiting for someone to tell them what happens next.Logan finally caught up, breathing hard but refusing to show it. “You shouldn’t bark orders when you’re shaking,” he muttered.“Someone has to,” I