Lahat ng Kabanata ng A Different Kind of Alpha: Blood Oath: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

KieranMy study is a cage.I’ve been pacing the length of the office for... hours? I’ve lost track. Every shadow that stretches across the floor feels like a judgment, every crackle of the fire an accusation.Twenty-four hours.I’m the one who said it. I’m the one who put my full, unproven authority on the line, using my wits to turn Vorlag's public attack into a ticking clock. It was a brilliant move, a flash of the political maneuvering my father, for all his cruelty, had inadvertently taught me. I’d felt a rush of power, of control, standing there in the yard.Now, that control is a memory. I’m just a 22-year-old man in a room that’s too large, waiting to see if it will all blow up in my face.My entire political future in Silvercrest now rests on the competence of a tattooed, honey-blond, Redmaw brute who makes me want to do dirty, dirty things every time he shamelessly toys with my hormones by simply existing.Vorlag is already making his move. I’ve heard the whispers in the hal

AlexeiThe long game is a terrible, stupid, boring game. What was I thinking?I’ve been playing it for... how long has it been? Weeks? I’ve lost track. It feels like years, but it’s probably weeks. Of patience. Of building trust and being an ally and not doing the one thing I’ve wanted to do since I first laid eyes on him.I thought being his weapon would be fun. And it was. Watching him take down Vorlag in the great hall was a masterpiece. He didn't just win, he dismantled the old bastard, using his own accusations as a knife. He was brilliant. Polished, political, and utterly ruthless in his own quiet way. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and my cock is demanding to be let into the conversation.And it’s made this whole long game unbearable.Because I saw him. I saw the flash of real power in his eyes, the confidence that settled on him when he had the pack in the palm of his hand. And then I saw the way he looked at me. That quick, shared glance of victory. That wasn't just

AlexeiKieran’s study is empty when I burst back in, but the scent of him is a punch to the gut.It’s not just the usual polished-wood-and-expensive-soap smell. Underneath, there’s a sharp, wild tang of panic, and the unmistakable, copper-bright scent of a fresh shift. He ran.I grin. Of course he ran. I just kissed him like I was trying to claim his soul, and his first instinct was to flee to the one place he could be honest. His own fur.I was coming back to see if he was interested in some more kissing, since the previous one went so well. I’m trying to play it cool, but it’s impossible when my entire body seems to be screaming his name. My wolf, which has been pacing restlessly under my skin since I walked away from Kieran’s tasty mouth, lifts its head. It’s taking a break from being furious with me for not claiming what belongs to us.It’s... intrigued. The pretty prince, with all his layers of control and biting wit, finally let the beast out. I close my eyes and breathe in the

AlexeiThe walk back to the keep is a new kind of silent torture for him. I can feel it. It’s the only thing keeping me from scooping him into my arms and carrying him. Kieran is a rigid line of suppressed fury tucked against my side. His body is no longer shivering, but it’s just as tense. He’s vibrating with humiliation and a thinly-veiled exhaustion I can smell on him.He’s not fighting me anymore. That’s the important part. His feet move, one after the other, in a numb, automatic march. He’s letting me hold him up. He’s leaning on me, even if his mind is screaming at him for the weakness of it. My arm is a furnace around his shoulders, and every single point of contact is a victory.I, on the other hand, am enjoying the walk. The moon is bright, the snow is clean, and I have the Alpha of Silvercrest pressed against my side like a lover. A very angry, very cold, very annoyed lover. But still.We don’t see anyone on the way back. I used the small gate he’d left open, a clear sign o

AlexeiI didn't sleep very much last nigh.I might have drifted for an hour or two, but it wasn't sleep. It was a restless, energized, hungry state of being. My mind struggling to comprehend the bliss of the moment.The way Kieran felt in my arms, solid and warm. The faint, sweet scent of his hair. The way his breathing evened out into that soft, almost-purr when he finally, finally let go.I woke before dawn, my blood humming. My entire body felt coiled, tight as a crossbow string, and my wolf was pacing the bars of my skin, not with agitation, but with a deep, resonant purpose.The long game, with all its patient, calculated steps, was a brilliant strategy for infiltration. It got me inside the walls. It got me into his head. Last night, it got me into his bed.And now it’s over.That game was about asking, “May I?” The new game is about stating, “I am.”Kieran thinks he can just shove me out of his room, his face flushed with that beautiful, embarrassed fury, and that we’ll go back