All Chapters of Alpha's Rejected Secret: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Morning came without warmth.The sky lightened, but the weight in the air remained—thick, unmoving, like the world itself hadn’t decided whether to let the sun rise properly. Aria woke before the camp stirred, her body tense, her mind already racing with echoes of the night before.The hum was gone.That frightened her more than if it had remained.She lay still for a long moment, staring at the canvas ceiling of the tent, listening to the slow, even breathing beside her. Killian slept on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, his other hand resting near hers as if even in sleep he needed to know she was still there.She turned her head slightly, studying him.He looked different when he slept. Younger. Less burdened. The sharp lines of command softened, replaced by something achingly human. This was the man the world never saw—the man who carried everyone else and never asked to be carried in return.And yet… last night, he had chosen to stand beside her anyway.Aria closed her eyes

Darkness swallowed the corridor.For a heartbeat, Aria couldn’t see anything—only feel. The hum deepened, vibrating through the soles of her feet and straight into her bones, like the stronghold itself had become a living thing with a pulse of its own.Killian’s hand tightened around hers instantly.“Stay with me,” he said, his voice low and commanding, cutting through the dark like steel.“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, though her heart was racing.The torches flickered back to life one by one, flames flaring higher than normal, burning with an unnatural blue edge before settling into amber again. The air smelled sharp—ozone and old magic, layered over stone and wolf.The scout took an uneasy step back. “Alpha… the marks are spreading.”Killian’s expression hardened. “Show us.”They moved quickly through the halls, boots echoing against stone as unease rippled through the stronghold. Wolves emerged from side corridors, drawn by instinct more than sound. Whispers followed them

Morning did not bring peace.It brought whispers.The rain had washed the stone courtyards clean, but it could not rinse away fear. Aria felt it the moment she stepped out of Killian’s chambers—an invisible tension stretched across the stronghold like a fault line waiting to split.Wolves bowed as they passed her, but it was different now.Not reverence.Not loyalty.Awareness.Killian noticed it too. His hand remained firmly at the small of her back, a silent claim and a shield all at once. His presence radiated Alpha authority, daring anyone to look too long, think too hard.But fear did not need permission.They reached the council hall to find the elders already gathered.Too early.Too quiet.“That was fast,” Killian muttered.“Fear moves faster than orders,” Aria replied softly.The doors shut behind them with a heavy thud.Elder Morven was the first to speak. “We felt the disturbance last night.”Killian didn’t bother with pleasantries. “You felt part of it.”A murmur rippled t

The council chamber had never felt so crowded.Aria could feel the attention before she even crossed the threshold—dozens of gazes snapping toward her like hooks sinking into skin. Alphas. Betas. Elders. Some curious. Some wary. Some openly hostile.And all of them measuring her.She kept her spine straight and her steps even, refusing to let the tension show. Killian walked beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. It wasn’t accidental. It was a message.She is not alone.The chamber doors closed behind them with a heavy boom that echoed through the stone hall.Silence followed.Then murmurs.“She feels different…” “That aura—” “Is it true she carries—”“Enough.”Killian’s voice cut through the whispers like steel through silk. The room quieted instantly.Aria took her place beside him at the center dais, her pulse steady despite the storm beneath her skin. The pull she’d felt earlier was stronger here—thick, buzzing, as if the very stones beneath her feet were listening

The dream came without warning.Aria didn’t fall asleep so much as slip—like the world tilted and she lost her footing.She stood barefoot on cold stone, the sensation sharp and real beneath her feet. The air smelled ancient, dust and ash and something older than memory. Above her, the sky was wrong—no stars, no moon, just a vast expanse of slow-moving darkness, layered like ink in water.She knew immediately this wasn’t a dream.Dreams didn’t feel this aware.“Killian?” she called, her voice echoing too far, too hollow.No answer.Her magic stirred uneasily, rippling beneath her skin like a living thing testing its boundaries. With each breath, the darkness seemed to respond—shifting, listening.Then the ground beneath her pulsed.Once.Twice.A heartbeat.The stone split with a low, resonant sound, not cracking but opening, like something exhaling after a long sleep. Pale light seeped through the fissures, curling upward in thin ribbons.And from it—A figure rose.Not solid. Not en