All Chapters of THE ALPHA’S UNWANTED MATE : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

MACEThe roar wasn't just sound. It was a physical pressure, a tidal wave of psychic slag that slammed into me, knocking the breath from lungs that no longer felt like they belonged to my physical body.WE SEE YOU, WOLF. WE HAVE HER NOW.The voice was a chorus of the damned. It wasn't one entity speaking; it was thousands, layered over one another in a cacophony of ancient, fermented rage. It sounded like snapping bone and crackling fire, like the last screams of women burning at stakes centuries ago. It vibrated in my teeth, in the marrow of my bones.I scrambled backward on the barren, obsidian ground of this nightmare realm. The terrain was slick, oily, shimmering with sickly blue veins of energy that pulsed like exposed nerves beneath dead skin. Above, the sky churned—a bruised hematoma of purple and black clouds lit from within by silent, violent lightning. The air tasted of sulfur, and old, dried blood. It was a dead world, sustained only by hatred.But my eyes were locked on th

MACEThe first step toward the inferno felt like walking into a hurricane made of broken glass.The psychic pressure of this realm was a physical weight, gravity amplified tenfold by concentrated, ancient hatred. My boots slid on the slick, oily obsidian ground, finding little purchase. The air was thin, burning my lungs with the scent of sulfur, tastes that coated the back of my throat like copper pennies. Overhead, the bruised sky churned, silent lightning illuminating the desolate landscape in strobing flashes of sickly blue and violent purple.But the only light that mattered was the roaring orange and red glow ahead. The furnace at the heart of the monstrosity. The cage where my mate was burning.YOU ARE A FOOL, WOLF, the booming chorus of voices crashed into my mind. It wasn't just sound; it was a vibration that rattled my teeth and tried to liquefy my marrow. YOU THINK THIS TETHER WILL SAVE YOU? IT IS A SPIDER'S THREAD AGAINST A MAELSTROM.I didn't waste breath responding. I fo

JAYNAYAH The first thing I noticed was the silence.For weeks, my mind had been an echoing chamber of whispers, a cavern where ancient, brittle voices scratched against the walls of my consciousness. They had been a low hum of resentment, rising to a deafening roar during the ordeal in the astral plane. They had been the sound of fire and drowning and centuries of accumulated rage.Now, there was only the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing beside me and the muffled quiet of snow falling outside the window.I lay still, terrified that moving might shatter the fragile peace. I listened, straining my mental ears into the corners of my mind where the shadows used to lurk. Nothing. Just the clean, empty space of my own thoughts. The entities were gone, banished back to whatever hell Mace had dragged me out of.Mace.The memory of him in that nightmare realm—his astral form burning as he ripped apart the cage they had put me in—made my chest tighten with an emotion so vast it felt like it m

JANAYAHThe sound of the blade entering Mace's body was small—a wet, sickening thud that shouldn't have been audible over the roar of the fight and my own hammering heart. But it was. It was the loudest thing in the room.Mace flinched violently. His grip on Michael loosened instantly, his body jerking as if he'd been electrocuted. His eyes, previously wild with lethal intent, went wide and unfocused, filled with a sudden, profound confusion that mirrored my own. He stumbled back a step, his hands going to his side, fingers clawing at the thick wool of Michael's coat, trying to pull away from the source of the pain.Michael, still on his back amidst the shattered remains of the coffee table, let out a guttural, triumphant laugh that turned into a hacking cough. He pushed himself up on his elbows, blood streaming from his nose and a deep gash on his forehead, but his eyes were alight with vicious satisfaction. He watched Mace intently, a predator savoring the moment its prey realizes i

JANAYAHThe sound of the iron bolt sliding home was the period at the end of my life. Clack.It wasn't just a sound; it was a physical severance. It cut off the sky, the air, the faint hope of morning light, and the last lingering connection to the world where Mace existed.I was left in a darkness so absolute it felt thick, like velvet soaked in ice water pressed against my open eyes. The silence wasn't empty; it was heavy, pressurized, filled with the echoing vibrations of the slamming door and the sudden, terrifying rush of my own blood in my ears.My heart was a trapped bird battering itself against the cage of my ribs, beat after erratic beat, too fast, too hard. It hurt. Everything hurts. The scrape on my knee from the fall throbbed in time with my pulse, a hot spark in the freezing gloom. My shoulder ached where it had impacted the stone wall, a deep, bruising dullness that promised stiffness later.But those were just body pains. They were manageable. I knew how to deal with p