All Chapters of THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Chapter 2: The Only SurvivorANYA’S POV“You can’t do this to me. Please.” My voice broke, small and raw. Silence answered me. His face didn’t. Rowan stood there like a cliff—unmoving, finished. The tray of shattered porcelain at my feet still glittered in the lamplight. The taste of metal and spilled coffee clung to my tongue.Pain thrummed under my ribs, slow at first, then jagged, as if someone had dug a hand into my chest and squeezed. I pressed a palm there because bending over was the only way to keep my lungs from failing. My fingers trembled.He said nothing new. His rejection had already landed; I’d heard the words. But his stillness made it worse, as if he refused to witness the damage he’d done.I let the breath shudder out of me and did the only thing left that didn’t feel like dying: I made a choice.“I accept it.” My voice snapped like a thin wire. “I, Anya Voss, accept your rejection, Alpha Rowan.”The reaction was immediate and savage.White-hot pain exploded through

Chapter 4: The Edge Of NothingnessANYA’S POVI woke with the taste of iron in my mouth and the memory of his voice like a bruise across my ribs. The wound in my chest that the mate bond had left still throbbed raw, less like a cut and more like a hollow where something vital had been torn away. My lungs felt too small for the room.“Run, Anya. Run.” The whisper curled in my head, impossible and urgent. I told myself it wasn’t there—no wolf, no guide—but the word carried itself like a bell. I swung my legs over the cot and moved before I could think about what the voice meant. I was light-headed from crying these past hours; my throat was sore; my hands still shook.Rain drummed steadily on the eaves. The manor slept. I padded barefoot to the window and pushed the latch, not thinking that the cold metal would bite at my knuckles. A shadow passed across the glass. The pane shattered inward before I could scream. Something heavy slammed into the sill and a rough hand clamped over my m

Chapter 6: The Scarred SaviorDAMIEN’S POV I gripped the steering wheel until the leather groaned under my palms, tires eating gravel as the SUV tore through the pre-dawn forest. The sky bled faint gold between the pines, but the light felt mocking, too soft for the storm still raging in my chest. In the backseat, Anya Voss lay sprawled across the leather, raven hair tangled with blood and leaves, her pulse a fragile flutter against my fingers when I’d checked it for the hundredth time. Her scent—violets crushed under rain—saturated the car, thick with copper and raw terror. I’d found her at the cliff’s base, body crumpled on jagged rocks, those violet eyes locking onto mine for one searing heartbeat before darkness claimed her. The Ironclaw gates rose ahead, black iron spikes catching the first rays like fresh blood. Guards snapped rigid as I skidded to a halt, gravel spraying in arcs. I kicked the door open and scooped her up, her weight nothing against my chest, head lolling in

Chapter 8: Tracks In The Mud ROWAN’S POV I hadn’t slept. Not a single second. My room looked like a battlefield after the slaughter, and I was the only corpse still breathing.The sun clawed its way over the mountains, thin and gray, doing nothing to warm the ice that had settled in my bones. Four days. Four endless, rotting days since Anya disappeared. Every heartbeat felt like a countdown, every breath tasted like ash.Baron paced inside my skull like a caged storm. His claws raked across my ribs from the inside, shredding me with every step. Find her. Find our mate. This is all your fault. The words weren’t words anymore; they were a howl trapped behind my teeth.I stood in the middle of the wreckage, chest heaving, blood crusted under my fingernails. My knuckles were split open, my raw flesh glistening in the morning sun. I didn’t remember when I’d started punching the wall. I only remembered the first crack—how it sounded like bone snapping—and then the second, the third, the h

Chapter 10: Whispers in the Dark ANYA’S POV The moon hung low outside my window, pale and heavy, spilling light across the floor like milk. I sat on the edge of the bed, brushing my hair in slow, distracted strokes. Every muscle in my body ached from training. My palms were sore, my arms throbbed, and the back of my neck still burned from the memory of Damien’s hand pinning me to the ground. I could still feel the weight of him. He’d said it was just training but no part of it had felt like that. The way his eyes had held mine… the way his breath had brushed my skin. It had felt like something else entirely—something dangerous, something I had no right wanting. And yet, here I was, sitting in his room in my head. A soft knock pulled me back to the present. Before I could answer, the door creaked open and Damien’s shadow filled the frame. He stood there, tall and steady, mask gleaming faintly under the moonlight. My heart kicked once, hard. “You should be in bed,” he said. His