All Chapters of My Fiance is Sleeping With My Step Sister : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

The wind, that ancient courier of whispers and warnings, carried the scent of ozone and damp earth to Elias’s senses. It was the tell-tale signature of Devon’s elemental fury, a controlled storm unleashed upon the scattered remnants of his hired band. Elias stood on a rocky outcrop overlooking a valley that was now eerily quiet, the distant echoes of battle having faded into the encroaching dusk. His dark robes, woven with threads that seemed to absorb the dying light, stirred around him as he surveyed the scene. His gaze wasn’t focused on the bloodstains or the scattered debris. Elias was a strategist, a chess player who saw the board not in terms of individual pieces, but as a complex web of interconnected threats and opportunities. Devon, in his blind rage, had followed the trail. Predictable. The Alpha of the Ironfang pack, so quick to anger, so devoted to his mate. Adriana’s fire, a beacon of power he had underestimated. He let out a low chuckle, a dry, rustling sou

The Ironfang Pack grounds were now a hive of controlled activity. The initial shock of the rogue attack had subsided, replaced by a grim vigilance. Warriors patrolled the borders with renewed ferocity, their senses heightened, their movements sharp and precise. The elders, their faces etched with a mixture of concern and wisdom, met in quiet council, debating strategies and consulting ancient lore. And deep within the pack house, shielded by wards and the constant presence of loyal guards, the twins slept, blissfully unaware of the storm gathering on their horizon. Adriana, however, could not rest. The phantom flames and the chilling vision of Leila had left a residue of unease that no amount of deep breathing or grounding could entirely dispel. She felt the power within her, the controlled fire, but the echoes of Elias’s manipulative tactics, and the sharp, unwelcome memory of Leila’s cruelty, lingered like a phantom ache. Devon had returned, his elemental powers humming with a p

The chill that settled over the ridge was not from the approaching night, but from the cold, calculated fury radiating from Elias. He stood on the windswept outcrop, the obsidian shard cool and inert in his palm. Patricia, her usual composure slightly ruffled, stood beside him, her obsidian eyes betraying a flicker of unease. The illusion, her masterpiece designed to exploit Adriana’s deepest fears, had failed. Spectacularly. Devon's response, both in his pursuit and in his protective stance, had been predictable in its ferocity, but Adriana's own reaction had been the true shock. He had sensed the drain take hold, the subtle poisoning that should have weakened her, dulled her senses, and ignited the panic Elias had so meticulously planned. He had felt the phantom flames lick at her resolve, the whispers of Leila’s past cruelties echo in her mind. He had known, with a certainty that bordered on arrogance, that she was faltering.And then, the surge.It hadn't been a desperate lash-out

The King's court, once a stage for elaborate pronouncements and political maneuvering, had devolved into a place of hushed whispers and fearful speculation. The King himself, perched precariously on his throne, was a shadow of his former self, his once commanding presence eroded by paranoia and guilt. Elias, through his carefully cultivated network of influence and Patricia’s subtle magical nudges, had systematically amplified the King’s inherent fears. Lord High Regent Valerius, Elias’s puppet in the King’s inner circle, had played his part with chilling efficiency. The King, already tormented by the memory of Queen Anya’s death and disturbed by Devon's growing power and his mother's seer legacy, had become convinced that his Alpha son was a threat to the throne. The whispers of an "uncontrolled elemental force" and a "prophesied wolf" that could destabilize the kingdom had taken root, watered by Elias's constant stream of carefully crafted "reports" and "concerns." “Your Majesty

The library’s quiet hum, usually a comfort, now felt charged with the weight of history and destiny. Adriana traced the faded ink on Elder Marcus’s journal, the words he had written about Queen Anya and the Ironfang Pack’s lineage resonating with a newfound clarity. Joey, privy to this history, watched with a steady gaze, her presence a silent affirmation of their shared purpose. "So, Elder Marcus believed Anya foresaw this exact conflict?" Adriana asked, her voice hushed, still processing the depth of the seer’s foresight. "That the King's paranoia and Elias's ambition would lead to a direct assault on this pack's legacy?"Joey nodded, her gaze sweeping over the ancient texts surrounding them. "Anya understood the dangers of unchecked power, and the King's particular brand of it. Elder Marcus documented her fears – how the King’s guilt over her death, coupled with his ambition to control all potent magic, would eventually turn him against Devon. He saw Anya’s seer abilities as