The Cursed Alpha’s Wolfless Omega のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

ElaraI don’t say the word.I don’t even let myself think it at first.Because once you name a thing like that, it becomes real in a way you can’t undo. It takes shape. It demands choices. It draws eyes.And right now, the last thing Elara needs is the weight of certainty pressing down on her.So I do what I’ve always done best.I observe.I calculate.I prepare.She’s sitting on the edge of the low bench by the window, shoulders drawn in, hands resting over her stomach like they belong there. The motion isn’t dramatic. It isn’t panicked.It’s instinct.That’s what sets my wolf on edge.Elara has always moved like someone surviving—reacting to danger, bracing for impact, flinching before the blow ever landed. This is different. This is quiet. Purposeful. Protective.I lean against the stone wall across from her, arms crossed, forcing myself to keep space between us even though every part of me wants to close it.“Tell me exactly what you’re feeling,” I say.She lifts her head, meeting

KaelThe war room smells like iron and smoke and old stone—familiar, grounding, useless.I’ve been pacing the length of the table for too long, boots grinding against the floor in a steady rhythm that mirrors the pressure building behind my eyes. Maps are spread before me, weighted down with daggers and carved stones marking borders, patrol routes, weak points. Lines. Plans. Strategies.None of them account for the Veil tearing open inside my own walls.Ronin stands near the table, arms crossed, watching me with the patience of a beta who knows his Alpha is two seconds away from snapping or deciding something irreversible. Two of my captains sit on opposite sides, silent, waiting. Lucian lingers near the doorway, unreadable as ever.I stop pacing and stab a finger into the eastern edge of the map.“They didn’t come through the border,” I say. “They came around it. Which means someone knew exactly where to thin the wards.”Ronin nods. “Agreed. We’ve checked the outer sentries twice. No

KaelThe door closes behind Elara, and the room feels too quiet.Not empty. Never empty when she’s near. But charged—like the air before lightning chooses where to strike.I stand where she left me, staring at the place she was standing, my mind replaying the way her hand drifted to her stomach without her realizing it. The way her wolf turned inward. The way my instincts shifted into something I still don’t have a word for.Heir.That was the word that used to matter.That was the reason I accepted her.Garrick brought her to me as an offering. A solution. A way to secure my line without emotion or complication. I didn’t question it much at the time. I needed an heir. My curse made that almost impossible. Elara was presented as a body, not a person.And I let myself think of her that way.Not cruelly. Not deliberately.But carelessly.I drag a hand over my face and let out a slow breath.She was supposed to be a means to an end.Instead, she became the end.Mate.The word hits harder

RoninI don’t say it out loud, but the room feels different after Kael leaves.Not quieter. Not emptier.Heavier.I stay where I am for a long moment, staring at the war table like the maps might suddenly explain something they never have before. Borders. Routes. Enemy movement. All the usual things.None of them account for the way Kael looked when he said the word pregnant.I’ve fought beside him for years. Seen him bleed. Seen him break. Seen him put himself back together with nothing but rage and willpower.I’ve never seen him look like that.Not afraid of dying.Afraid of losing something before it even has a chance to live.I scrub a hand over my face and let out a slow breath.I am happy for him.Truly.That’s the part that makes the rest of this so uncomfortable.Kael deserves something that isn’t pain. He deserves something that isn’t a battlefield or a grave. If anyone has earned a future that looks like more than survival, it’s him.And yet…The jealousy sits in my chest an

ElaraI wake with the taste of ash in my mouth and the feeling that someone has been standing at the edge of my mind.Not inside it.Not touching.Just… watching.My wolf is already awake.She’s coiled tight and alert, not in panic, not in fight—guarding.Seen.The word isn’t fear. It’s awareness.I sit up slowly, one hand drifting to my stomach before I can stop myself. The room is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that feels staged, like the world is holding its breath.Nothing is wrong.And everything is.I swing my legs over the bed and stand, moving to the window. The inner garden looks the same as it did yesterday—sunlight on stone, birds in the trees, water moving gently in the small pond.Normal.But I don’t feel normal.I feel… noticed.Like something immense shifted in the dark and my name was written into it.My wolf presses closer to the center of me.Protect. Hide. Grow.“What did you feel?” I whisper.She doesn’t answer with words. She never does. Instead, she shows me