All Chapters of Bound to the Alpha Who Killed Me: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Lyra — POVDarkness folds around me like a second skin.But it isn’t the soft, natural dark of night. This is something thicker—alive, almost wet, like a living shadow pressing against my lungs, crawling between my ribs. I try to breathe, and the air feels heavy, viscous, filled with a low electric hum, as if the world is holding its breath with me.My eyes open to nothing.No sky.No forest.No Cain.Only black.And beneath that black—whispers.Not words. Not yet.Just the suggestion of a voice I already fear.My pulse stutters. My fingers brush the ground beneath me and sink into something that isn’t dirt or stone but feels… soft. Too soft. Like pressed velvet or animal fur. Warm.A surface that breathes beneath my palm.I yank my hand back, scrambling upright on shaky legs. My wolf thrashes in my chest, panicked, disoriented. And for a terrifying second, I’m not sure if I’m awake or dreaming or trapped between the two.“Cain?” My voice sounds small. Thin. Swallowed by the shadows b

Lyra — POVThere’s a moment, one impossible heartbeat—when Cain’s body stops thrashing.Just stops.The forest holds its breath.The shadows contract like living things.The earth under him trembles, humming with something ancient and wrong.And then—His back arches off the ground as if invisible hands have hooked beneath his ribs and yanked.A sound rips out of him.Not a growl.Not a roar.Not even a wolf’s scream.Something older screams through him.Something hungry.Something waking.I stumble back, my palms pressed over my ears, but the sound isn’t in the air.It’s inside me.It crawls along the bond, scraping its claws across my spine, threading itself around my heartbeat. I gasp, choking on air that doesn’t feel like air anymore.“Cain,” I whisper, voice breaking. “Oh gods—please—fight it—”He can’t hear me.Or maybe he hears too well.His head slams to the ground. His hands claw at the dirt. His veins glow beneath his skin—red, black, then a stark, impossible white, like moo

Lyra — POVI wake up inside a sky made of water.No—Not water.Memory.Liquid memory, suspended and shimmering, as though the world’s first thought was poured into the shape of a horizon. Every ripple glows silver. Every drop hums with a voice too old to translate.I’m floating.No body.No breath.No pain.But I remember pain.Cain’s scream.The circle of Bloodveil sealing beneath us.The curse reaching with its claws toward my soul—Then everything tore open.I rise—no footsteps, no gravity—until I stand on a surface made of nothing and everything.And then she appears.The Goddess.Not in a body, not in a form, but in an idea.A woman made of moonlight and storms.Hair like the night before creation.Eyes like eclipses—dark, luminous, endless.She speaks, and her voice is both thunder and a mother whispering her child’s name.“Lyra.”I swallow. “Am I dead?”A faint smile curves her lips. “You are between. Between worlds. Between truths. Between what was taken and what was given.”

Lyra — POVThe world stops feeling like a world.The sand, the sea, the torn moonlight overhead—all of it ripples, bends, distorts, like reality is a fabric caught between two fingers and someone is twisting.No.Not someone.Us.The Soulbind is still burning, still settling, still stitching its mark into the very air around me. Every bone in my body feels carved open. Every nerve is a wire pulled too tight. My magic is thrashing under my skin like something newly born and furious.Cain’s arms are around me, solid and trembling with the same aftershocks ripping through me. His breath shudders against my hair.“Lyra,” he rasps, voice raw. “Tell me you’re here.”I try to answer——but the world pulls sideways.A surge of power slams through me so violently I double over, a cry tearing out of my throat. My vision blurs white. Heat floods my chest, my spine, my blood—no, not heat.Moonfire.Silver, molten, holy—and laced with something darker, colder, hungrier.Cain jerks as if the same fo

Dual POVLyra — POVThe sky breaks like bone.One crack.Then another.Then a shuddering chorus of fractures splitting the moon into a mosaic of trembling light.The hunters freeze. Their armor hums with war-magic, but their faces—those are human. Human enough to pale. Human enough to understand that nothing about tonight belongs to them anymore.Cain and I stand on the sand, power coiled between us like a heartbeat too big for mortal lungs.The bond pulses once—hot silver,then twice,cold shadow,as if something on the other end is knocking.The moon answers with another crack.Cain’s hand slides to my waist without him even thinking. The instinct is too deep. Too old. Too necessary.Behind us, wolves shift in terror.“Lyra…” Cain’s voice is rough, low. “The moon isn’t reacting to us.”I nod. “I know.”Because I can feel it now.Not just fear.Not just divine turbulence.But presence.Something immense moving behind the veil, its weight pressing against reality like a god leaning d