Todos os capítulos de FORCED TO HAVE THE ALPHA’S BABY: Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

AlaricThe council chamber is cold, and the torches lining the walls do little to warm the tension simmering in the air. The rain from earlier has soaked through the walls in places, the scent of damp stone and mud lingering, mixing with the faint metallic tang I still carry from the battlefield. The pack is gathered, the council seated in their usual elevated positions, faces rigid, eyes sharp. Even in this familiar room, I feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on me, heavier than the armor I wore outside.Cade stands near my side, trying to look calm, but I can feel his unease. He’s trying to hold himself steady for my sake, a shield between me and the council’s judgment, though I know he’s torn. I don’t glance at him. I don’t need anyone else’s voice to ignite what’s already burning inside me.The oldest elder leans forward first, fingers steepled. “Alpha Alaric, you need to explain yourself,” he says, voice low but cutting. “Why did you let her go? Why did you allow

AlaricThat night, I took everything I could and left the pack.The forest presses in around me, leaves brushing against my face, the scent of wet earth filling my lungs. Every step is heavy, deliberate, like I’m dragging myself through something I shouldn’t have survived. My hands are raw from pulling branches out of the way, my boots slick with mud, and every time I stumble, I feel the weight of the battle still clinging to me. My chest is tight, and the taste of smoke and blood lingers in my mouth. I think of Celine, of what I almost lost, and it twists something in my stomach that I don’t want to name.I stop for a moment, pressing my palm against the rough bark of a tree, feeling its life pulse beneath my fingers. The forest is quiet except for the occasional snap of a twig, the low rustle of the wind threading through the canopy, and the steady thrum of my own heartbeat. I’ve stripped myself of the Alpha, stripped myself of the title, the power, the pack. Every instinct I used t

CelineThe air in the rogue camp feels heavier tonight. It always does when bad news spreads before the moon even shows her face. I’m sitting by the fire, or at least pretending to. The smoke curls into my nose and burns, and I cough until Marla snaps her fingers at me.“Stop trying to look strong,” she says, squinting over the pot of whatever she’s been stirring for hours. “You look like death with braids.”I roll my eyes. “Thanks, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said all day.”She smirks, but there’s worry sitting behind her eyes. Everyone’s eyes look like that lately—tired, hollow, waiting for something to fall apart.Two scouts stumble into camp before dawn breaks, mud splashed up their legs, faces pale. I know before they speak that it’s bad. The air goes still. Conversations stop mid-word.“Nightshade’s in chaos,” one of them breathes out, panting like he’s run for hours. “The Alpha’s gone. Vanished after killing his council members and the suspect he's gone in search of his ma

AlaricThe first thing I notice when I reach the edge of the rogue camp is the smell of smoke. It clings to the air, thick and heavy, mixing with damp earth and the faint metallic scent of blood. Rain still drips from the leaves above, falling in slow, steady drops that land on my hair, my face, my shoulders. The forest around me feels tense, alive with the watchful silence of wolves who don’t trust me—and I can’t blame them.I never thought I’d find myself standing in a rogue camp. Not after everything I did to them. But Celine is here, and that’s enough reason to risk walking straight into a den full of wolves who’d rather tear me apart than let me breathe the same air as them.When she stopped running earlier in the woods and didn’t turn back to fight again, I followed. I kept my distance, though. Every instinct in me screamed to reach her, to hold her, but I knew she wouldn’t let me. She shouldn’t.Now, standing at the edge of their territory, the first rogue who spots me growls,

AlaricThe moon is huge tonight, every night with them in this unfamiliar place makes something twist in my chest. If she was with me in Nightshade, she'll be sleeping and resting in a large room, not these woods, but I made her run this. The air smells damp, earthy, and sharp with the first hints of frost, brushing against my face as I follow Celine as she goes for a walk. Her steps are slow, deliberate, weighted not just by her body but by everything she’s carrying—my child, my mistakes, and all the pain I’ve caused.She doesn’t notice me at first, moving between the trunks like a ghost, her silhouette delicate against the brightness of the moon. I catch the rhythm of her breathing, the faint sound of her boots pressing into soft soil, and for a moment, I just watch, feeling the weight of all the days I wasn’t there.“Celine.” My voice is barely above a whisper, carried lightly by the wind, and she flinches, her hand instinctively pressing to her stomach. She glances back, eyes narr