Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Female Alpha's Human Mate : Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

~ETHAN~ “Trust me, Ethan,” she whispers. And I do. Against myself, against all the reasons. Because it’s her. I nod—forehead still pressed to hers—feeling her breath leave her in a quiet, fragile exhale that brushes my lips. For a second, neither of us moves. Then my body does. I step back. The space between us feels wrong the moment it exists, cold rushing in where her warmth had been, sharper than the rain that immediately takes its place. I lean against the car’s hood, metal biting through my damp shirt, a dull, grounding cold that barely keeps me steady. Nyra’s hand catches my arm for half a second. Then she’s gone. Already back at the car like nothing in her wavered. Like she didn’t just ask me for the one thing I don't give. Trust her. It sits wrong in my chest. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is the mistake that finally costs— But she isn’t wrong. She won’t be. Will she? My jaw locks as I press my hand harder into my ribs, right over the bandage. Pain flares—sharp,

~ETHAN~ I wake to the faint sound of birds outside, their calls distant, half-formed through the haze in my head. My eyes open, just enough to see—Nyra. Sitting there, like she owns the space. Always bossy. Something tightens in my chest—not fear, not exactly—but a sharp, unfamiliar mix. Relief. Gratitude. Maybe both. And it hits me how wrong I was...about her. “Finally,” she rasps, when she sees me awake. She adjusts the bed, slides a glass of water toward me. Her fingers linger on the rim for a second longer than necessary before she pulls back. “How do you feel?” she asks, eyes scanning me. “Good,” I say, fingers tracing the rim of the glass. My gaze drifts out the window to the birds perched on the sill—ravens, out of place, perfectly still in the sunlight. “What time is it?” I ask. “Four,” she says, moving to clear the glass and straighten the blankets. I hesitate. “The baby—” “They’re in the maternity ward,” she says, cutting in smoothly. “If you want

~NYRA~ “Touch me.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. My chest tightens the second they’re out—sharp, choking— No. It hurts. Not just the heat. Not just this want. It starts lower—tight, coiled—and then it twists. The pain folds in on itself, restless, alive, like something trapped under my skin trying to claw free. Every breath drags it tighter, every shift makes it worse—too much, too raw, too there. My body doesn’t feel like mine. It feels— Wrong. I curl into the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric, trying to ground myself in something—anything—but even that betrays me. The friction sends a shiver up my spine, heat flaring hotter, turning into something unbearable. “Ah—!” My back arches off the bed, fingers clawing into his wrist, knuckles whitening as something twists hard inside me. My thighs press together on instinct, trying—failing—to ease the pressure building under my skin. It only makes it worse. Everything’s too sensitive—too sh

~NYRA~ “Where is that fucking mutt?!” It doesn’t sound like a voice—it hits, a brutal strike straight to the skull. My step falters, just half a beat, but it’s enough. The Alpha command tears through me, raw and merciless, sinking into bone, demanding obedience before thought can even form. My jaw locks. Behind me, Ethan shifts. He didn’t hear it, but he felt it. Everyone did. The corridor has gone too still, the kind of silence that presses against your ears. Omegas straighten as I pass, eyes dropping instantly, but I catch it—resentment buried under fear. I stop at the office door, my hand hovering for a fraction of a second—not hesitation, calculation—before I knock once and push it open as the door slams against the wall. He’s already on his feet, my uncle doesn’t sit when he’s angry. His presence fills the room before his voice does, thick and suffocating, like the air’s been stripped of oxygen. “Finally.” The word cracks like a whip as his gaze slices past me and lo

~ETHAN~ And when I look back, the wolf is already there. Staring right at me. It's as tall as me, with ash-grey fur that catches the moonlight and turns almost silver. The eyes stand out more—emerald, faintly glowing, fixed and aware. It steps forward. The wood groans under the shift in weight. Heavier than it looks. Seventy kilos, at least. Another step. The floor creaks louder this time, the sound stretching through the narrow space like a warning. “Stop,” I say. It does, turning its head towards me, fully focused. “The wood is old,” I add, almost automatically. The wolf blinks. Then its tail gives a slow, controlled wag like it understood exactly what I meant. It's…it's mesmerizing. I don’t move immediately, just watch. The wolf holds where it is, weight even, head level, eyes fixed on me, not pacing, not testing distance, just… waiting. My pulse is already up, shoulders tight. Every instinct wired the wrong way—too alert, too ready to pull back. The howls are still