Все главы Alpha Enemy, Lover Mine: Глава 21 - Глава 30

I stood just outside the library, tray in hand, back straight, face composed.On the outside, I looked like any obedient maid doing her duty.On the inside?The wheels were turning.Marcus had been in there for almost an hour now. With his tutor. His books. His worst enemies: silence and structure.Which meant he was probably dying in there.And when he came out?I’d be waiting.I glanced at the tray again—tea, a cool towel, and a little jar of peppermint oil I borrowed from the maids' storeroom. Not something a regular maid would bother with, but I wasn’t trying to be regular today.He’ll be tired, sore, overdramatic—and ripe for attention.Give him kindness. Give him comfort. Let him rely on it.Affection, I’d learned long ago, was one of the most effective weapons when used right. Especially on someone like Marcus.Use love to create jealousy. Use jealousy to spark rage. Use rage to destroy.The door creaked.I straightened instantly.Marcus stumbled out like he’d just escaped a ga

I stormed into the common bathroom like it owed me money.The moment the door swung shut behind me, I grumbled a curse under my breath and shoved the faucet on, splashing cold water straight into my face like I was trying to drown my feelings.Which—honestly? Valid.I leaned on the sink, dripping and scowling at the marble, then slowly raised my eyes to the mirror.Big mistake.Because my reflection looked exactly how I felt: Annoyed. Jealous.And unfortunately still hot. Which was unfair. Because emotional breakdowns should at least come with a bad hair day for balance.“She was acting weird,” I muttered to myself, glaring at my own wet face. “All soft-spoken and fluttery and—what the hell was that laugh?!”I mimicked her under my breath in the dumbest voice possible.“You’re quite fast, Young Alpha.’”Ugh.What was that?That wasn’t Raine! That wasn’t my Raine! My Raine throws knives and insults with the same amount of grace!Not smiles like she’s in a perfume commercial!And defini

What?!I nearly dropped the silver tray in my hands.Marriage?! They’re seriously trying to marry Marcus off?!I blinked, schooling my expression before anyone noticed the jolt in my hands. My brain, however, was not as composed.Out of all the ridiculous things this pack could throw at me—arranged marriage?Now?! Just as I’m finally starting to get under Marcus’ skin?!I tightened my grip on the wine bottle and focused on slowly filling another goblet—Sebastian’s, because of course it was—but my thoughts were already spiraling.I wasn’t worried. Not really. Because I knew Marcus.He’s not the kind of man who’d fold under pressure just because a couple of Elders threw around the word marriage like it was a dinner course.He’s stubborn. Petty. Spoiled. Loud. Immature.Emotionally allergic to anything that requires real responsibility. The boy breaks into a cold sweat when asked to read two pages of a book.He couldn’t survive a marriage.And definitely not with Penelope.“I already rej

The bunk bed creaked when I shifted.It wasn’t much. Just thin sheets, stiff blankets, and the scent of pine soap lingering from the other maids’ laundry—but it was enough. Enough to remind me I wasn’t in a rogue’s den anymore. Not in a battlefield. Not in control.Just another wolf-shaped shadow tucked into a corner of someone else’s pack.My bed was the top bunk, shoved into the far end of the maids’ quarters. The window was cracked open, and through it, the cold night air spilled in, brushing against my skin. The moon hung heavy and full above the trees—so close, I felt like if I reached out, I could press my hand against it.I stared unblinking, thinking back to how my original plan had been simple—hurt Sebastian and slip quietly back into my old life, invisible and silent among humans.But everything changed the moment I realized hurting them alone wasn’t enough; they needed to be broken mentally, emotionally, spiritually. That’s when the idea took root—to use Marcus against Seba

Marcus’s room smelled like too much cologne and bruised pride.Luna Seraphina stood near the bed, her hands clasped tightly in front of her like she was praying not to fall apart. “Marcus, darling, are you sure you’re alright? You didn’t even finish your meal—”“I’m fine,” Marcus muttered, lying with one arm thrown dramatically over his eyes like a dying Victorian child. “Can everyone please stop acting like I broke all my bones?”He hadn’t. Unfortunately.“Ugh,” Penelope whined from the foot of the bed, arms crossed, silk dress puffed at the shoulders like she was auditioning for a fairy tale villain. “You’re so dramatic. What are you, twelve? I cannot have a disabled groom, Marcus. Like, no offense, but if you limp down the aisle, I will cry.”Seraphina gasped. “Penelope!”“What? I’m being honest.” She flopped onto the plush chair beside the dresser like her legs had given up the will to live. “Imagine the wedding photos. People will think I married a wounded soldier. Tragic.”I sto