Semua Bab Alpha Enemy, Lover Mine: Bab 71 - Bab 80

The walls had never felt so close.Laura lay curled on her side, her back to the door, the moonlight slipping through the slats of the window like pale prison bars. Her hands were balled beneath her pillow. Her eyes open, but still — unmoving. Not blinking.She hadn’t said a word since the slap.Since she walked out.Since no one followed.The door creaked open slowly behind her.She didn’t turn.She didn’t have to.The voice was unmistakable — firm, measured, as always.“Starting tonight,” Lucas said from the doorway, “you are grounded.”His footsteps didn’t echo. They were too soft, too deliberate.“You are prohibited from leaving this room,” he continued. “Not for training. Not for strolls. Not for council meetings. Not for anything. Until the fifth full moon rises.”Laura’s fingers twitched under her pillow.“Five full moons, Laura.”Still, she didn’t speak.Didn’t breathe too hard.Lucas exhaled slowly. “Do you understand what you’ve done?”Laura blinked once.The ceiling didn’t

Solmere Pack — miles away, but pulsing with its own venom.The halls of the main house echoed with shouting, fury dripping down every cold marble wall.And in the center of it — Carlos Solmere stood, one side of his face reddening where the slap had landed.“You selfish, spineless little traitor!” Joaquin Solmere thundered.The aging Alpha’s voice ricocheted through the grand chamber, wild with rage.“You throw away everything — decades of planning, blood, survival — for that maid?!”He didn’t even bother hiding the disgust as his glare shifted to the girl standing silently to the side.Bethany.She didn’t cower. But she didn’t smile either. She stood like a shadow — like she’d heard it all before.Carlos clenched his fists, his chest rising and falling.“I’m already sick of it, Father,” he said, breathless. “Of all of this. The power. The plotting. The hate.”Joaquin stepped forward.And when he spoke next, his voice wasn’t loud — it was lethal.“You want to be with her now?” he snee

The courtyard buzzed with laughter and movement, petals dancing in the breeze like confetti.Laura pushed past a group of warriors carrying wine casks, her cloak whipping behind her. She could hear the distant sound of instruments tuning, the drums of a slow ceremonial rhythm beginning to pound from inside the great hall.Each step made it harder to breathe.Every lantern, every silver ribbon, every smile worn by strangers she didn't know — all of it tightened around her like a noose.This isn't real. It can’t be real. He wouldn’t—She reached the marble steps of the grand hall and shoved past a startled omega who tried to offer her a wrapped flower crown.But before she could cross the threshold—A hand gripped her wrist.She spun around sharply—Only to meet Carlos's eyes.His chest heaved like he’d been running. His suit jacket was half-buttoned, and his hair slightly disheveled — like he had just ripped himself from some ceremonial dressing room.“Laura—”She didn’t wait.Her hand

The battlefield stank of blood and fire.Laura ran. Her feet were blistered, her cloak torn and bloodied. Her lungs burned from the fighting she’d just pushed through — the wolves of Solmere, dozens of them, had lunged at her the moment she broke from the ceremonial hall. She tore through them with nothing but claws, teeth, and fury. The ground was littered with their bodies.But it had slowed her.Too long.Too late.And then she saw them.“No…”Her steps faltered as her eyes locked on the broken figures in the clearing ahead.Levi — slumped on one side, his bare chest rising only faintly.Lucas — blood trickling from his mouth, his Alpha mark flickering like a dying flame.They had both shifted back into their human forms. That only ever meant one thing.They were too weak to hold the wolf anymore.Laura dropped to her knees.It felt like the ground had cracked beneath her.Everything inside her went still.“Father…” Her voice broke as she crawled forward, her fingers digging into t

The council hall of Lavigne Pack was heavy with voices.The Elders sat at the long table, their robes pristine, their faces sharp and lined with judgment. Their voices clashed against one another, a storm of arguments bouncing from wall to wall.“Laura is the only heir of Lucas,” one Elder declared, pounding his fist against the table. “With him gone, the bloodline is clear. She must step forward.”“Step forward?” another scoffed. “That cursed girl is why our Alpha is dead in the first place. You would hand our future to the very cause of our downfall?”“Enough!”“No—let them speak!” a third Elder barked. “This is not a matter of grief. This is a matter of survival. Whether we like it or not, Laura Lavigne carries his blood. No one else can claim the throne legitimately.”“And what good is blood,” the second Elder snapped back, “if it’s tainted?”The argument raged on.Half the council demanded tradition. The other half demanded punishment.And at the head of the table, seated in her