Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Alpha Mortal Elara : Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

The morning light touched the window. Elara opened her eyes slowly. Her head rested on Damien’s chest, his arm wrapped around her. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. She moved a little, trying to sit up, but his arm held her down. “Stay,” Damien said, his voice deep and soft. Her face grew warm. She pulled the sheet closer to her chest. “Someone might see us.” “No one will enter my chamber,” he said. His hand touched hers gently. “I want you here, Elara. I don’t care what they say.” Her heart beat fast. She lowered her eyes. “But… I don’t know if I am ready for what this means. The pack, Clara, the elders… they will all turn against me.” Damien sat up, his eyes fixed on her. “Let them. You are mine. They cannot change that. I will not let them hurt you again.” Elara swallowed hard. A tear slipped from her eye. “I am afraid.” He touched her cheek. “I know. But you don’t have to fight alone anymore. I will sta

The sun rose weak over the pack lands. Smoke still curled from broken fences. The yard was filled with the smell of blood. Wolves moved slowly, carrying the wounded, covering the dead. The night attack had left scars that could not be hidden. Elara stood by the window of her chamber. Her eyes watched the yard, her heart heavy. She saw the pain on every face. She wanted to run down, to help, but she knew many still looked at her with blame. She touched her chest and whispered, “I never asked for this. Why must they suffer because of me?” The door opened. Damien walked in, his eyes dark from lack of sleep. His chest still had scratches, but he had not let the healer treat him. He stopped when he saw her. “You should rest,” he said. “I cannot,” Elara answered. “They hate me, don’t they?” Damien looked away for a moment, then said, “Some do. Some don’t. But it does not matter. You are under me. No one will harm you.” Her lips trembled. “But if they keep suffering becaus

Elara lay in her bed, wrapped in the blanket Damien had placed over her before leaving for his night duties. The house was quiet. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, and the distant howl of a guard wolf echoed like a warning. She turned on her side, pressing her face into the pillow. Her heart was restless. The feast had ended hours ago, yet she could not sleep. Laughter still echoed in her ears, the way the pack had clapped when Damien held her hand, the way some wolves whispered that she was glowing brighter than the moon. But under all of it, her chest felt heavy. Something was wrong. Something was close. Her eyes finally closed. Sleep pulled her under like a deep river. ---At first, it was peaceful. She found herself standing in a wide meadow. The moon hung above, round and white, washing the flowers in silver. She could hear the soft sound of water flowing somewhere near. For a moment, she felt calm. “Elara…” a voice whispered. She turned. A figure stood a

The morning began quiet in the pack house. Elara woke slowly, stretching her arms. The air was cool, and for the first time in many days she felt a little safe. Damien had gone out early, leaving her to rest. She sat by the window, looking at the sun. She did not know that danger had already entered the house again. ---Down in the kitchen, the maids were busy preparing food. Pots boiled, bread baked, and voices filled the room. Among them was Lira, the young maid who had always smiled at Elara and sometimes brought her extra fruit. On the wooden table sat a small bowl of soup. It looked normal, the smell rich, but the poison inside was deadly. It was not for Lira. It was meant for Elara. Clara had placed it there the night before, telling herself that no one would suspect a thing. She walked into the kitchen now, her face calm, her dress neat. She looked at the maids and said sweetly, “Make sure the Luna gets this bowl. She needs strength.” The maids nodded, not knowing the

The night was heavy with silence. The moon hung above like a silver eye, watching every corner of the pack house. The air inside was tense, as if the walls themselves held their breath. Damien moved through the hallway with slow, heavy steps. His golden eyes burned in the torchlight, sharp with suspicion. He had not rested since Lira’s death. The maid’s lifeless body, her pale lips, and the bitter smell of poison still haunted him. He stopped in front of Clara’s chamber. His wolf stirred inside him, growling low. *It was not an accident. She is hiding something.* Damien pushed the door open without knocking. The wood cracked against the wall, startling Clara where she sat by her mirror. She had been brushing her long dark hair, humming softly. But the moment she saw him, her hands froze. “Alpha…” she whispered, her voice shaking. “You frightened me.” Damien did not answer. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a slow creak. His eyes never left her face. Clara