All Chapters of The Alpha king and the Hunt: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Louis’s POV…..The pool was supposed to be empty.That was the entire point.I’d waited until the sun climbed high enough that most warriors would be on patrol or buried in reconstruction work. The camp had settled into a rhythm lately—hammering, hauling, arguing, healing. Noise everywhere. Movement everywhere.I needed quiet.I needed water.The natural pool sat hidden beyond a curtain of willow trees, fed by a slow underground spring that kept it cool even during the warmest days. Smooth stones lined the edges, worn soft by time. This place had always been mine—my escape long before I became Alpha, before war, before bonds and blood and fate tangled my life into something I barely recognized.I glanced around once more, senses stretched.Empty.Good.I stripped quickly, folding my clothes neatly on a flat rock. The breeze kissed my bare skin, cool and daring, and I sighed. For one brief moment, I was just Louis again—not Alpha, not leader, not mate-to-be to a man I wasn’t ready to a

Damien’s POV……(Years Ago)I was seven years old when I learned that strength could be a curse.The night smells like rain and iron. Even now, years later, I remember it too clearly—the way the wind rattled the wooden shutters, the way the hearth fire flickered low, the way my mother’s breathing came in short, terrified gasps.I was awake because I was always awake.Because when your house is quiet for too long, you learn that quiet is only the breath before the storm.My father’s voice cuts through the walls like a blade.“Don’t look at me like that.”The sound of something shattering follows. Clay. A bowl. Maybe the cup my mother treasured because it was the only thing her own mother left behind.Then her voice.Soft. Pleading.“Please. Your son is sleeping.”I press my hands over my ears.It never helps.Footsteps thunder across the floorboards. A sharp crack—skin against skin. My mother cries out, and something inside my chest twists so hard I can’t breathe.My father, the most f

Louis’s POVThe evening air was calm, almost serene. The fireflies danced above the river, the scent of pine and earth lingering in the cool night. My pack had gathered near the central clearing, finishing the day’s training. Some of the younger ones were laughing, tossing sticks and chasing each other, while my mate sparred with a few warriors, demonstrating new combat maneuvers.I leaned against a tree, watching. my baby slept peacefully in my arms, swaddled in a soft blanket, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. The warmth of her skin against mine brought a rare smile to my face. For a few moments, the world felt normal.“This evening is beautiful, isn’t it?” my mate’s voice rumbled from behind me. I turned to see him wiping sweat from his brow, a proud, gentle grin on his face. His presence grounded me.“It is,” I said softly, brushing my fingers through the baby's hair. “It’s… peaceful.”He nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. “Enjoy it ,” he murmured, half in je

Louis — POV….The morning began like any other.Cold mist clung to the trees that ringed my territory, pale silver threads weaving between trunks dark with age. The pack yard was already awake—warriors sharpening blades, omegas hauling water, sentries shifting patrols after the night watch. Life moved forward whether grief followed or not.I stood on the stone platform at the center of the yard, fingers curled around the carved edge, breathing in the familiar scent of my people. Pine. Earth. Wolf.Home.My daughter stirred against my chest, her small weight warm beneath the fur-lined wrap. Baby Aria let out a soft sound, not quite a cry, and I tilted my head, brushing my nose against her dark curls.“You’re safe,” I murmured. “I’ve got you.”The words steadied me as much as they did her.A horn sounded—short, sharp.Court.I straightened slowly, lifting my chin. My shoulders squared not because I felt strong, but because I had learned that appearing unshaken mattered more than being u

Damien — POV….The world narrowed to blood.Louis lay on the ground before me, her hands pressed to her throat, crimson spilling through her fingers no matter how hard the healers pushed cloth and magic against the wound. Her skin—ashen. Her lips—losing color by the second.“No,” I snarled. “No, that’s not enough.”The healers worked frantically, hands glowing, chanting under their breath. One of them shook her head, panic cracking her calm.“The cut was too deep—”“Then FIX IT,” I roared.My voice tore through the yard, raw and ugly. Warriors flinched. Elders froze. No one dared pull me back as I dropped to my knees beside Louis, my hands shaking as I hovered over her body.Her eyes fluttered.For one horrifying moment, I thought they were already empty.“You don’t get to leave,” I whispered fiercely. “Not like this.”Her chest stuttered. Breath shallow. Weak.The scent of her blood—sharp, metallic—filled my lungs and made my vision blur. My wolf howled inside me, clawing, raging, te