All Chapters of A Dorm With My Alpha Mate : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Kai's POVI was dreaming of fire, the ugly, hungry fire of burning forests—the kind that crackled and roared and consumed everything in its path. In the dream, I stood in the middle of it, turning in circles, searching for faces I couldn't find. My mother's face. Sylvie's face. Faces of wolves I'd lost, wolves I'd failed, wolves who'd trusted me to keep them safe.Then the screaming started.I woke with with a jolt drenched in sweat, my heart already pounding, my hand reaching for the blade, I was on my feet before I finished the sentence, blade in hand, already running toward the sound. The corridor was dark, but I knew every step by heart. My bare feet slapped against cold stone as I ran, the blade feeling useless in my hand because what blade could cut through whatever was making those sounds? What blade could undo whatever was happening?I burst into the main hall and the world stopped.Chaos.The word didn't cover it. Didn't come close. Bodies everywhere—not dead, but moving, sh

Sylvie's POVI heard the screaming from the wall.I'd been standing watch, as I always did, staring out at the dark forest and trying not to think about the weight in my chest that hadn't lifted since I killed Alistair. The night was quiet—too quiet, the way nights always were after violence. But then the screaming started, and quiet ended.I was moving before I consciously decided to. Down the stairs, through the corridors, my feet finding the fastest path by instinct. The screaming wasn't just one voice—it was many. Shouts. Cries. The raw, terrible sound of something gone horribly wrong.I burst into the main hall and stopped.Chaos. Bodies everywhere, struggling, shouting. In the center, near the hearth, a knot of people I couldn't see through. Blood on the floor—too much blood, spreading in dark pools that caught the firelight.And then I saw him.Malrick.On the ground. Grey-faced. Aria kneeling over him, her hands red, working frantically. I moved closer, shoving through the cr

Sylvie's POVThe hall had gone quiet.Not the quiet of peace—the quiet of exhaustion. Of people who'd witnessed too much in one night and had nothing left to give. Wolves had retreated to their corners, some sleeping, some just staring at nothing. The blood on the floor had been scrubbed away, but the stains remained, dark against the pale stone.I sat against the wall with Bren curled beside me, his head on my shoulder, his breathing finally evening out into something like sleep. Exhaustion had claimed him, the same exhaustion that pulled at all of us. But I didn't move. Didn't dare. He was my brother—my brother—and I'd spent too many years without him to let go now.Across the hall, near the hearth, Malrick lay on his cot.He was still alive. I didn't know how. Aria had worked on him for hours, her students taking turns holding pressure, applying poultices, doing everything possible to keep him on this side of the veil. Mira and Koren had finally collapsed nearby, their faces grey w

Aria's POVThree days since Malrick's burial. Three days of bandages and poultices and whispered conversations. Three days of watching the pack try to find its footing on ground that kept shifting beneath them.I moved through the infirmary on autopilot, my hands knowing the work even when my mind was elsewhere. Change this bandage. Check that wound for signs of infection. Mix this poultice—more yarrow, less honey, the balance had to be precise. Note that fever, make a record, come back in an hour to check again. The wounded were healing, most of them anyway. The ones who'd survive. The ones who hadn't were already in the ground, and there was nothing more to do for them except remember their names and speak them aloud when the pack gathered.The living required different care. More complicated. More exhausting.Koren sat on a cot near the window, his ribs bound but his spirit intact. He'd been helping with the younger wounded, the ones who needed reassurance more than medicine. A boy

Aria's POVThe infirmary was quiet at midday. Most of the wounded were resting, their needs met for the moment. Mira and Koren had gone to eat. Kira was with Finn, training. For the first time in hours, I was alone with my work and my thoughts.I preferred it that way.The supplies needed organizing again. I moved between shelves and jars, checking labels, counting stock, making mental notes of what we'd need to gather next. The work was mindless, soothing. It kept my hands busy and my thoughts at bay.Or it tried to.The door creaked open. I didn't turn. Footsteps—hesitant, uncertain. Stopping just inside the threshold."Aria."My father's voice.I kept my back to him. Kept my hands moving. "The infirmary is for the wounded. Are you wounded?"A pause. "In ways you can't see."I turned then. Slowly. Faced the man who had given me life and then tried to trade it for his own safety.He looked older than he had in the stronghold. The days since had carved deeper lines into his face, adde