All Chapters of Alpha's Rejected Secret: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

The passage breathed.That was the first thing I noticed as we stepped forward—stone walls rising and falling almost imperceptibly, like a living thing drawing slow, ancient breaths. The air inside was warmer, heavier, threaded with a low hum that vibrated through bone and blood alike.Aria leaned heavily against me. Her steps were steady but slow, her magic spent enough that the glow beneath her skin had faded to nothing more than a ghost of light. I kept my arm locked around her waist, anchoring her with every step.“Easy,” I murmured. “I’ve got you.”She nodded but didn’t answer right away. Her gaze kept drifting to the markings etched along the walls—symbols older than pack history, older than the language we spoke now. Some pulsed faintly as we passed, others remained dark, dormant.“They’re responding to me,” she said finally, voice hoarse. “Not activating. Just… acknowledging.”That unsettled me more than another collapse would have.“Like they’ve been waiting,” I muttered.“Ye

The horn sounded again.Closer this time.Low and brutal, vibrating through the marrow of my bones. My wolf snapped fully awake, hackles raised, instincts screaming the same truth my mind was already forming.They weren’t announcing themselves.They were advancing.Aria’s fingers tightened in my sleeve. I felt it immediately—fear restrained by steel, panic held back by sheer will. She followed my gaze toward the treeline where the darkness had begun to move.Not wolves.Not shadows.Something… organized.“Tell me we have more time,” she said quietly.I didn’t lie. “We don’t.”The ground beneath our feet thrummed, the echo of many steps syncing into a single, dreadful rhythm. Torches flickered to life beyond the trees—dozens, then hundreds—casting warped shadows that stretched toward us like grasping hands.“They’re already inside the borders,” Aria breathed.I scanned the horizon, senses flaring unnaturally sharp. The change inside me—the inheritance, the seal—rose instinctively, resp

The war room doors sealed behind them with a dull thud that echoed too loudly in Aria’s chest.Stone walls. Torchlight. Ancient maps carved directly into the table’s surface—territories etched with scars of old battles, borders redrawn so many times they looked like wounds that never healed. This place wasn’t just a room. It was a memory. One soaked in strategy, sacrifice… and blood.Aria felt it the moment she stepped inside.Something beneath the stone stirred.Killian sensed it too. His hand tightened almost imperceptibly around hers, his posture shifting—not defensive, but alert. Alpha instincts sharpening like blades.The elders were already there.Some stood. Some sat. All of them watched Aria with eyes too knowing, too heavy, as though they had been waiting for her arrival far longer than she had been alive.Riven broke the silence first. “The seal responded the moment you crossed the threshold.”Aria’s pulse skipped. “The seal?”Killian turned to him sharply. “You didn’t say a

The laughter echoed again.Not loud.Not wild.Measured.It slithered through the tunnels like smoke, curling around stone and bone alike, ancient and knowing. The sound scraped against Killian’s nerves, awakening something primal in him—something that remembered old wars and older graves.Aria stiffened in his arms.“That voice…” she whispered. “It’s layered. Like more than one soul is speaking at once.”Killian pulled her closer as they descended the spiral stairway, the air growing colder with every step. The torches lining the walls burned blue now instead of gold, reacting to the corrupted magic leaking upward from below.“Can you place it?” he asked.She shook her head slowly. “Not yet. But it knows my name. Not just who I am—what I am.”That was worse.They reached the final landing, where the stone doors to the lower chamber stood cracked open, ancient runes pulsing weakly along their edges. The seal—once whole, once proud—was fractured. Bleeding light. Bleeding power.And ble

Aria woke before the sun fully rose.It wasn’t pain that pulled her from sleep—it was awareness.Not sound.Not touch.But knowing.Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the tall windows of the Alpha quarters. Killian lay beside her, one arm heavy around her waist, his breathing deep and even. He looked younger in sleep, the hard lines of command softened, the weight of the world briefly set aside.Yet the world had not set her aside.She could feel it.The air hummed faintly, like a thread pulled too tight. Beneath the stone floors, beneath the mountains themselves, something moved—not alive, not dead, but aware of her awareness.Aria stilled, afraid that even breathing too loudly might disturb whatever fragile balance now existed.This wasn’t the ancient power.That presence was sealed—compressed behind wards and will and sacrifice. What remained was different. Subtle. Like residue etched into her bones.She lifted her hand slowly, palm facing