All Chapters of Falling For The Wrong Alpha : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Pete's footsteps echoed faintly through the quiet hallway of the Morrow household as he carried Agatha gently in his arms. Her head rested against his chest, her breaths shallow and uneven. The front door creaked open, and Mrs. Morrow appeared instantly, her face etched with worry. "Oh my Moon! What happened to her?" she cried, rushing toward them, her hands trembling as she reached out instinctively. Pete carefully laid Agatha on the couch first, then readjusted her in his arms to carry her up the stairs toward her bedroom. His voice was low, hoarse with exhaustion. “Professor Dale… he betrayed us. He conspired with an outsider pack. They ambushed us last night during the Awakening Ceremony.” Mrs. Morrow froze mid-step, her eyes wide and her breath catching in her throat. "What? No... That can't be. Dale? But why would he do such a thing?" “I don’t know.” Pete shook his head, voice hollow. “But the attack was planned. Coordinated. They waited until the moment focus change on the

Agatha POV “I still don’t understand. Are you seriously telling me the professor was killed?” Linda asked, her brows drawn tightly together as she paced back and forth across my bedroom rug. She was on the phone with Ryan, and I sat on my bed, back propped up by pillows, a bowl of carrot soup in my lap, trying to focus on eating while my heart thumped in confusion and disbelief. “I swear on the Moon Goddess, Linda,” Ryan’s voice came through the speaker, rough and low, like he hadn’t slept at all. “After he scattered his son’s ashes, someone knocked me out cold. I didn’t even see it coming. No sound, no touch—just... blackout. And when I woke up, Professor Dale was dead. His heart—” Ryan’s voice cracked “—was ripped out.” I paused mid-spoonful, the warmth of the soup suddenly tasting like ash on my tongue. “But…” I whispered, “I thought all the wolves died last night. Who could’ve killed him?” Linda stopped pacing and looked at me, her lips parted in shock. “Exactly,” she mutte

The warm scent of freshly brewed tea filled Beta Farron’s modest living room. The soft clinking of porcelain accompanied the tension that hung thick in the air as Alpha Jethro sat across from Farron, shoulders stiff with worry. Mrs. Farron, her face tight with sadness, set down a tray of steaming tea and biscuits on the low table between them, her movements slow and careful. "Your boys have left for the rescue," Beta Farron said, his voice low but steady. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping the armrest. Alpha Jethro gave a small nod, his face unreadable. "Yes. I'm glad that Fenrik is back. My boy has always had the fire in him. If anyone can help bring Arraya back from the Blacklands, it's him." He picked up the cup, the delicate china nearly trembling in his large hands, and took a slow sip. "Thank you," he added, glancing briefly at Mrs. Farron, who offered a strained smile before turning and disappearing into the kitchen. A long silence followed, broken only by the ti

The car gave a small cough, then another, a sputtering gasp that sounded like it was struggling for breath… and then just… died. The steering wheel suddenly felt heavier in my hands, the hum of the tires against the road vanishing into silence. I eased us over to the side, the gravel crunching beneath the wheels as we rolled to a stop. A thin plume of steam curled up from under the hood, twisting into the cool air like a signal flare. To anyone else, it might have looked like trouble. To me, it was exactly what I’d planned. I already knew it wasn’t serious. It wasn’t meant to be serious. “Okay, what happened?” Fenrik’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and already suspicious, like I was guilty before I even opened my mouth. His door slammed shut, and by the time I glanced in the side mirror, he was already stalking toward me, the others filing out behind him. I took my time opening my door, making sure my movements were steady, unhurried. “I don’t know,” I said, keeping m

The two cars rolled along the narrow forest path, tires grinding over brittle leaves and snapping twigs. The air outside was damp, heavy with the smell of moss and earth, the kind of scent that clung to clothes and skin. Every turn pulled them deeper into the shadows where the road seemed more suggestion than reality—roots curling up like claws, branches sagging low enough to scrape against the roof. Moonlight slipped between the trees in fractured beams, painting fleeting silver lines across the windshields before vanishing again. The hum of the engines was the only break in the silence, a low growl against the thick hush of the forest. When the cars finally rolled to a stop, the mansion emerged from the darkness like it had been waiting for them. Black stone walls loomed behind a tall wrought-iron gate, the metal glistening faintly with dew. Ivy climbed in twisting lines up the sides, disappearing into the shadows of the high eaves. The arched windows reflected the moonlight like