All Chapters of Fate Or Mates: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

AARON’S POVI had Julius on the floor before the hall finished inhaling.The stone burned into my knee as I drove him down, my forearm locked tight across his throat. His breath rasped wet and thin against my skin. Behind me, metal rang as guards shifted, caught wrong-footed by the speed of it. I tasted iron and dust and the old smoke that clung to this place no matter how often it was aired.“Order your guards to stand down, Pius,” I said. My voice scraped, but it carried. “Or I tear his throat out here. It is payment. A first payment for the ambush you ordered on my parents.”Pius stood at the far end of the hall beneath banners that once meant something to me. His jaw moved as if he were grinding bone. His gaze flicked from my face to his son pinned beneath me. Julius’s eyes bulged, white all around. His hands clawed at my arm, weak and panicked, nails scraping my skin.The guards froze. A few leaned forward, then stopped when Pius lifted his hand. He said nothing. The silence stre

ANGELA’S POVI left Aaron’s room with the sharp bite of antiseptic clinging to my clothes and turned for the stairs. I did not slow. If I stopped, I knew I would not start again.The pack prison lay beneath the clinic like a thought buried on purpose. The air cooled with every step, warmth thinning out until each breath pressed tight against my ribs. Stone walls closed in, damp under my fingers, carrying a smell that had nothing to do with medicine and everything to do with age. My footsteps rang too loud, each one stretching the corridor longer than it was.James had offered to come. Rylan had already posted guards outside the cell, silent and ready if I wavered. I waved them off. This was not something I could divide. If I was going to do it, I had to do it alone.The guard at the final door straightened when he saw me. No smile. Just a nod. He turned the key with both hands, metal scraping as if the lock itself exhaled. The hinges groaned when the door opened, announcing me more cl

ANGELA’S POVI made it to our rooms before the shaking started. The door clicked shut behind me, and the thin barrier against everything outside was enough. The strength holding me upright disappeared, and my legs gave out. I slid down the wall, my back against the cool wood, and covered my face with my hands. The tears came hard and silent, my body shuddering without a sound.The trial. The knife. Aaron’s blood on the floor. Julius’s dead eyes. The cell door slamming shut. David’s broken story about a brother I never knew. Sela’s haunted face. A nightmare stitched together from truth and consequence. I was the Luna, supposed to be steady and unbreakable, the one who delivered justice without flinching. Inside, I felt like cracked glass, held together only by the weight of my title.I didn’t hear him approach. I just felt warmth at my side, then Aaron lowered himself onto the floor next to me with a quiet grunt, his injured leg stretched out. He didn’t pull me close or ask questions.

AARON’S POVI thought the joy was private, a secret between Angela, James, and me, and the four walls of the clinic. I was wrong.It began that evening with a small, hand-carved wooden rattle on the porch step. Then a tiny wolf pelt, impossibly soft. By morning, a basket of lavender soaps and a clay mug painted with clumsy, cheerful suns , clearly a pack child’s work. No one said a word.The gifts kept coming. A knitted blanket, a jar of honey, a mobile of polished stones and feathers that would chime in the breeze. Each one was simple, traditional, a quiet wish for new life.The pack had to know. They saw James walking through the territory with a spring in his step, his usual sharpness softened by a grin he couldn’t hide. They saw me hovering, cutting any meeting short the second Angela showed the slightest fatigue.The absence of formal duties for our Luna was the loudest announcement of all. Still, they didn’t crowd us. They celebrated in the way wolves understand some joys are to

Angela’s POVMore movement came, little rolls, a dance. A shaky laugh escaped him , half sob. He bent and pressed his lips to the spot.“Hey, little one,” he said, voice thick. “I’m right here. We both are. No rush.”He stayed there, murmuring soft promises until the kicks eased into gentle waves, like she was listening.When he finally moved up beside me, he cupped my face, thumbs brushing away tears I hadn’t noticed. His own eyes were bright.“She’s strong,” he said.“Ours,” I managed.He kissed me , soft, careful, still holding the wonder. I parted my lips, tilted into him, and the kiss changed. Deepened. Not urgent. Just inevitable.He made a low sound and slid his hand to the nape of my neck, angling me closer. The restraint in him was palpable (he was always careful now), but the want was there too, warm and steady.I curled my fingers into his shirt, feeling the thud of his heart.He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “Tell me if anything feels wrong. Promise.”“Nothing h