บททั้งหมดของ THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA : บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Chapter 71: The Mask Falls DAMIEN’S POVThe door to my changers slammed shut behind me with a crack that echoed down the empty corridor. I didn’t remember climbing the stairs or shoving past the guards who scattered like rats when they saw my face. Blood still crusted my coat, my shirt, the fur that hadn’t fully receded when I shifted back. Every breath pulled fire through the gashes across my chest and the deep bite marks on my arm. Healing should have already started knitting my flesh together by now, but for some unknown reasons it hadn’t. The wounds wept sluggishly, refusing to close, mocking me with their stubborn refusal to obey an alpha’s body.I crossed the room in three strides and drove my fist into the nearest table. The wood splintered, the heavy oak top cracked down the middle and collapsed with a groan. Maps, goblets, and the half-empty decanter of whiskey crashed to the floor in a satisfying cascade of glass and amber liquid.But it wasn’t enough. I grabbed the iron c

Chapter 73: The Warning ANYA’S POV Darkness pressed against my eyelids as thick and as cool as the spring water. I floated in it weightlessly and blind until shapes began to form around me slowly and hazy. Stone walls rose high on every side carved with symbols that shimmered then faded before I could read them. Mist curled along the ground silver-blue and restless. The air tasted of rain that hadn’t fallen yet and something older like charred wood left to cool for centuries. I pushed to my feet and spun in a slow circle searching for anything familiar, but nothing answered. The place felt like a memory I’d never lived through. “Aunt Mara?” My voice bounced back thin and small. “Rowan? Iris?” Silence swallowed the names. I wrapped my arms around myself and took one careful step forward then another. The mist parted just enough to let me pass and closed behind me like a curtain. My heart kicked hard against my ribs. This wasn’t a normal dream. Dreams didn’t feel this solid, this

Chapter 75: Quiet Warnings ANYA’S POV Sunlight slipped through the narrow window slit and painted thin gold stripes across the sheets. My body woke before my mind did. A dull sweet ache bloomed between my thighs, deep in my hips, and along the insides of my arms where I’d gripped Rowan too hard. Every small shift reminded me of last night. Heat rushed to my face and lower at the same time. I opened my eyes slowly. Rowan’s arm lay heavy across my waist, his fingers splayed loose over my bare stomach. His breathing stayed deep and even, as his chest rose and fell steadily against my back. I turned carefully not wanting to wake him yet, but needing to see his face. He slept on his side facing me, his dark lashes fanned against sharp cheekbones, and his mouth slightly parted. A faint bruise shadowed his jaw from the fight but when marked he looked unfairly beautiful. The boy I used to chase through summer fields had grown into this man with broad shoulders, corded forearms and thick

Chapter 77: Shadows At The Gate ANYA’S POV Iris and I stepped back into the dining hall, the air felt wrong somehow. It was too sharp and too still. The usual chatter of Elowen’s people had vanished. Instead boots pounded in a quick, uneven rhythm. Guards jogged past us with tight faces and mouths set in grim lines. A woman carrying a basket of laundry dropped it mid-stride and ran toward the armory without looking back. Swords clanked and bows screamed as archers climbed the inner wall. The air tasted metallic, like blood just before it spills. I slowed. “Iris, what the hell is going on?” She kept walking with her fingers tight around my elbow. “I don’t know. Just stay close to me.” We turned the corner toward Mara’s study and I saw them. Mara and Rowan emerged together. She looked smaller than usual with her shoulders hunched as if she carried an invisible weight. Rowan walked half a step behind her with his jaw locked as his eyes scanned every shadow. When his gaze landed on m

Chapter 79: The Dark One’s Face DAMIEN’S POV The coals in the hearth had crumbled to dull red powder. I sat motionless in the carved oak chair, my elbows braced on my knees, staring into the dying glow until my eyes stung. The curse had grown claws these past days. Every inhale dragged razors along my ribs. Wounds from the valley still wept sluggish dark blood through the bandages I changed three times a day. Sleep brought no rest, only flashes of silver-black fur, amethyst eyes that once looked at me with trust and now promised death. Two roads kept circling in my skull. One ended with Anya’s body at my feet, her throat torn open, the curse shattered, my life bought back at the price of hers. The other ended with her in my arms again—soft, laughing, believing I was still the man who called her Little Fox. I could almost taste the second path, sweet and impossible, like wine turned to vinegar. I wasn’t ready to choose, at least not yet. A sharp rap on the door yanked me out of