All Chapters of A DEAL WITH THE ALPHA DEVIL: Chapter 241 - Chapter 250

Fiona's pov“Something’s wrong,” Logan said.It was morning. The well hadn’t stopped humming since the night before. It sounded really low, like a voice trapped too deep to reach.Zona stood near the edge, arms crossed. “We blocked it twice. Still leaks heat.”I crouched beside it. The stones were warm. “Like it’s breathing.”Logan gave me a look. “Don’t start with that again.”“Then give me a better word.”He didn’t.Behind us, villagers moved through what was left of their town, fixing doors, dragging the broken from houses. The rescued children slept inside the chapel, watched by Serena. Every time I looked at them, I wondered which would wake first and whether their eyes would still be white.Zona kicked a stone down the path. “You think Gwen’s still in there?”“No,” I said. “She’s too smart to stay close after that.”“She left it open for a reason,” Logan added. “She wanted us to look.”“For what?”“That’s what I don’t like.”By midday we left the village. The pack trailed behind

Fiona's pov“Tell me it’s not spreading,” I said.Logan didn’t answer. His shirt was half off, the light from the fire showing the dark marks crawling up his side.“Logan.”He finally looked at me. “It’s slower today.”“Don’t lie.”“I’m not. It’s just… not stopping either.”I wanted to hit something. Instead, I threw another log in the fire and watched it break apart.Zona walked up behind me. “We found tracks near the old well. Human. Small. Maybe one of the missing kids.”“Just one?”She nodded. “The others were dragged. Whatever took them, it walks upright.”“Show me.”Logan tried to stand. “I’m coming too.”“You’re barely breathing straight.”He gave me a look that said he didn’t care.So I let him.We moved quiet, the only sound the crunch of frost under boots. Zona led the way, Gwen behind her, still pale from the last time she’d been taken down.When we reached the well, the ground was torn up like something had been digging from below. The stones were slick with mud and black

Logan's pov“Don’t light another fire,” I told Zona.He frowned. “It’s freezing.”“Then freeze quiet.” The village sat quiet, walls broken, roofs sagging, doors hanging like half-open mouths. We’d cleared it, checked every house. Still, I didn’t trust the place. The kind of quiet that waits, not rests.Fiona was inside the old chapel with the children. She’d been there since sundown, patching their wounds and whispering to them like she could undo the world with her voice.I stayed outside. Something about this village didn’t sit right. No birds, no wind, not even the sound of night bugs. Just… still. The air had that dry taste before a storm, like the world was holding its breath.Zona came up beside me. “You should sleep.”“Not yet.”“You haven’t slept in two days.”“I’ll manage.”He didn’t push. Zona was smart like that — knew when to talk, when to walk away.After he left, I looked toward the chapel window. The light inside flickered once, twice, then went out.“Fiona?” I called

Logan's povFiona hasn’t spoken for two days.Her eyes move, she nods, she writes when she has to, but her voice is gone. The thing in the mirror took it clean, like it reached through her throat and cut the sound away. I don’t let her see how much it scares me. Someone has to keep it together.Zona set up camp outside the village in an old barn. He keeps watch from the roof, says the ground hums if you stand too long in one place. He’s right. I can feel it through my boots, faint, steady, like the world’s heart beating somewhere deep.The kids are still missing. The trail runs cold every time we follow it. They vanish between footprints, like someone picks them up and walks through the air.At night, we cover every bit of glass mirrors, pots, water bowls. Even steel blades. Anything that can throw a reflection. Still, I catch flashes sometimes. A face that isn’t mine, eyes too red.I haven’t told Fiona that.Zona came down from the roof just before dawn. “We need to move,” he said. “

Logan's pov“Tracks end here.”Serena crouched low, brushing the dirt with her fingers. She was right. The footprints were small, bare, all heading east, just stopped. No scuffle. No blood.I stared at the open stretch of gray stone ahead. Mountains loomed close enough to smell the cold on them. “They didn’t vanish,” I said. “They were taken.”Fiona moved beside me, her coat pulled tight, hair sticking to her face from the climb. “Taken where?”“Down,” I said.Zona would’ve made a joke. Serena didn’t. She just stood and glanced at the rock face ahead. “There’s a gap. Could be a tunnel.”It was more than a gap than a slit in the mountain, breathing faint fog from inside. Not the kind that came from cold. The kind that remembered heat.Fiona’s eyes met mine. “We go in?”“I’ll go first.”“You always say that before bleeding,” she muttered.“And you always follow,” I said.She didn’t deny it.Serena ran her palm over a wall. “Someone built this.”“Someone still using it,” I said.The tunn