All Chapters of Alpha Asher's Forbidden Mate: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The healer’s hut smelled of sage and smoke, but no amount of herbs could cover the sharp scent of blood and fear. My grandmother lay on the cot, her skin pale as moonlight, her breath shallow. The wrinkles on her face looked deeper than I remembered, carved lines of a woman who had carried too many visions, too much truth, on her shoulders.I hovered near the bed, afraid to touch her, afraid she might shatter like thin glass if I did.“She collapsed after speaking before the council,” the healer whispered, his eyes darting to the door as though the walls themselves were listening. “Her strength is waning, Aria. But before she fell… she said the visions came again.”A chill traced my spine. I swallowed hard. “What visions?”The healer’s mouth tightened, like the words themselves might curse him. Still, he bent closer, his voice trembling. “She saw fire and blood. And you—” his gaze locked on me, heavy, accusing—“you were at the center of it.”For a moment, the world tilted. My knees wo

The memory of Riven’s grip on my wrist still burned in my mind as I stepped onto the frost-slicked training ground. Morning mist clung to the earth like a warning, swirling around my boots as I approached the center. The pack’s whispers followed me, slicing through the chill. Every pair of eyes seemed to weigh me, to measure my worth—and my failure.Riven stood at the far end of the arena, unmoving, a pillar of control. His gaze found me instantly, piercing, icy, and merciless. My pulse jumped. The bond had throbbed in my skin the night before, and now it pulsed again, a steady drumbeat that refused to be ignored.“Shadowfang,” he called, his voice cutting through the mist like a knife. “Today, you prove your place here. Or you prove you should have stayed in exile.”Damien lounged behind the fence, arms crossed, smirk curling across his lips. His expression said he had already won before we’d begun. My stomach tightened, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter.

My hand still throbbed where Riven had crushed it before the entire pack. The Moonlight mark on my wrist pulsed like a brand, mocking me with its faint glow. The crowd’s gasps and whispers still echoed in my head, their eyes burning hotter than fire. I wanted to vanish, to sink into the earth, but instead I felt my knees buckle.Before I hit the floor, strong arms caught me.Damien.He cradled me against him with practiced ease, as though he had been waiting for this moment. His smile—a flash of pearly perfection—was for the pack’s benefit. To them, he looked like a gallant savior stepping in when the mighty Alpha cast me aside. But when his mouth brushed my ear, I caught the words no one else could hear.“Pathetic, wasn’t it?”The venom was wrapped in velvet, sweetened by the warm timbre of his voice. I stiffened, but he tightened his grip, pressing me closer until the crowd only saw a protective embrace.“You don’t need him, Aria,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from m

The ruins breathed with silence. Dust swirled in the moonlight slanting through cracked stone walls, and the journal trembled in my hands. My father’s handwriting—firm, deliberate—spoke of fire, of blood, of a prophecy that reeked of doom.I should have felt relief at finding a piece of him, but all I felt was cold dread.“You shouldn’t be here, Aria.”The voice curled around me like velvet dipped in poison. My grip on the journal faltered as I turned. Damien leaned against a broken pillar, his smile sharp, his golden hair catching the pale light. His eyes—wolf-bright, calculating—were fixed on the book in my hands.“I should’ve known you’d sniff around the past,” he drawled, pushing off the pillar and circling me slowly, like a predator who had all the time in the world. “Tell me… did you find the part about the curse? About how it all leads back to you?”My heart hammered. He knew. Or at least, he wanted me to believe he knew.“This doesn’t concern you,” I said, forcing steel into m

The air in my grandmother’s hut always smelled of sage and smoke, thick with herbs that clung to the skin. Tonight, though, it felt heavier—like the walls themselves were pressing in, suffocating me with secrets. The fire crackled low in the center, shadows dancing against the rough wooden beams, and my grandmother sat hunched before it, her eyes glassy, staring not at me but at something I couldn’t see.“Grandmother?” My voice wavered, soft, like I feared disturbing whatever fragile thread tethered her to this world.Her head turned slowly. The sight of her eyes sent chills racing down my spine. The cloudy whites shimmered faintly, pale silver bleeding into her pupils as though the Moon Goddess herself had dipped her gaze in light. Her visions were coming again.“You feel it too,” she whispered, her voice cracked and thin, but every word pierced like steel. “The threads of fate tugging tighter. Fire. Blood. Shadows entwining with light.”I froze. My heart thudded painfully, rememberi