All Chapters of The Alpha Of My Heart: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

AsherI hear every word of Juliet’s conversation with Alethea, and my mind instantly flashes back to a dream I had not long ago—a boy who looked exactly like me, lost and terrified in a dark forest. I remember his face, the way he called out for help. Could it be that I have a child? A son Alethea has kept hidden from me all this time? Then there’s the name, Declan. It’s familiar, yet I never thought much of it before. But now, it clicks. If he’s running a fever and calling out for his mother, that means he’s not just a random child. He’s real. And he might be mine. Fury builds inside me as I think back to Alethea—her scent, her body during her heat. She had changed. She had gained weight in just the right places, her curves more pronounced, her breasts fuller. Could it have been because she carried my child? I storm toward her, barely containing the rage simmering beneath my skin. I don’t care about pride right now. I need the truth. I need to hear her say it. But when I f

AletheaAs I rush out the door, Harvey notices my distress and quickly follows, his footsteps matching my hurried pace. “Alethea, what’s wrong? You don’t look so good.” I glance at him for a second, debating whether to let him in. But I can’t. He was just a distraction, someone I used to get back at Asher. And yet, Harvey is starting to care. He’s taking this further than I ever intended. I shake my head. “It’s a family emergency. I have to go.” He studied me for a moment, his expression skeptical, but he didn’t push. Instead, he walks beside me—just like he did yesterday—until I manage to hail a cab. Before closing the taxi door, he leans down slightly. “Call me once you get home safely.” I’m too drained to argue. My emotions are a mess, my mind spinning with the words I threw at Asher. I know he’s struggling to believe what I said, but I can’t let him find out the truth. He can never know we have a son. The moment I see our house in the distance, relief washes over m

AletheaMy heart pounds loudly in my chest, a steady drum of anxiety and frustration. I don't know if he's about to ask the same question I've been avoiding, but I can already feel the tension in the air. I roll my eyes upward, exhaling sharply as I stare at his back. His posture is stiff, his shoulders tense, like he's carrying the weight of the entire world. But honestly? I don't care what's bothering him this time. I watch as he opens the office door, leaving it ajar for me to follow. Slowly, I step inside and close it behind me, bracing myself for whatever storm he's about to unleash. "Were you fucking Xavier? And is he the father of your child?" His voice is sharp, laced with anger and something deeper-something I refuse to acknowledge. "You had no right to be with another man just because we aren't together." My hands curl into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. The audacity. The sheer arrogance of this man. He has no right to ask me that, no right to questio

AletheaEverything around me becomes clearer and sharper with every shift of the wind. The dull ache in my bones from the sudden transformation fades, replaced by a strength I never imagined possible. Power surges through me, awakening something deep within. My paws press into the earth, claws sinking into the soil as I take in the overwhelming reality—I finally have my wolf. I am no longer the girl who waited too long for this moment. I am something more. My son needs me. The thought of my son rips through me like a storm, and before I can stop myself, a loud, heart-wrenching howl escapes my throat. The pain in that sound is indescribable, a sorrow and longing that words cannot contain. I can hear the distant flowing river, as I make my way toward it. When I reach the water’s edge and peer into my reflection, my breath catches in my throat. I gasp in horror at the sight before me. A white wolf. Just like Selena. I panic in fear as my senses prickle. Am I safe? I remember re

Alethea"This has to be a joke, right?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. My whole body trembles, and I grip the phone tighter, desperate to wake up from this nightmare. But Harvey's voice pulled me back to reality "A child-around three years old-was found drowned in the nearby river. And judging by the description you gave me... your boy is three years old, right?" No. I shake my head violently, refusing to believe it. "No, no, no! That's not my son!" The words spill out in a rush, but they feel hollow-like I'm trying to convince myself more than him. My heart clenches painfully, my chest so tight it's hard to breathe. Tears stream down my face as I squeeze my eyes shut, with the hope that this is some kind of cruel mistake. But Harvey didn't back down. "Isn't that what you told me? That your boy is three years old? Blonde hair, green eyes?" His voice is not on a slight edge now, probably because I'm testing his patience. But I don't care about anything except the despera