All Chapters of Vying For The Alpha's Heart: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The dust from the shattered iron gate was still swirling in the evening air when Oreon reached the courtyard.He did not run. An Alpha does not run. But his stride was long and furious, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword. Behind him, Beta Kael marched with a face like thunder, and further back, Eltonia watched from the safety of the main doors while her heart pounded against the new rosewood hairpin.The courtyard was filling with grey-armored warriors. They didn't dismount like guests; they dismounted like an occupying force. They pushed Ashwood stable hands aside and threw their reins at them without a word.And in the center of it all stood the woman.Lady Philia of Stone Ridge slid off her massive war-beast with a heavy thud that seemed to shake the ground. She was terrifying to behold. She stood nearly as tall as Oreon; her shoulders were broad and thick with muscle under her plate armor. Her hair was a shock of blonde, shaved on the left side to reveal three scars runn

The training ring was silent, save for the dry whistle of the wind and the heavy thud of Philia’s boots.Oreon stood in the center with his wooden practice sword held loose at his side. He was shirtless, his chest was heaving slightly, and the fresh bandage on his back stood out against his tanned skin. His bad leg was wrapped tight, but he favored it, keeping his weight on his right.As Philia circled him, she was grinning like a shark that smelled blood in the water."You look nervous, little Alpha," she taunted and swung her heavy wooden claymore with one hand as if it were a twig. "Are you thinking about the throne? Or the girl?"She flicked her eyes toward the bench where Eltonia sat, frozen and pale."I am thinking," Oreon said calmly as he pivoted to keep her in his sight, "that you talk too much."Philia’s grin vanished."Then let’s scream."She lunged.And automatic, it was a bulldozer attack. She charged straight at him, bringing the massive wooden sword down in an overhead

Philia’s dagger slashed down.It moved with the speed of a striking cobra, aiming for Eltonia’s hand resting on the table."Lady Philia! STOP!"It wasn't Oreon who screamed. It was Abram.The blade halted. The tip quivered and buried itself deep into the wood of the table, precisely within the gap between Eltonia’s thumb and forefinger. A drop of wine from the spilled pitcher dripped onto the steel.Eltonia didn't breathe. She stared at the blade that was a hair's breadth from maiming her."My Lady!" Abram rushed forward. His face was pale and his hands were raised in a placating gesture. "Please! Do not spoil the... the festivities!"Philia slowly turned her head to look at the advisor. Her eyes were glazed with a terrifying, calm violence."She ruined my gear," Philia stated. "The debt must be paid.""And it shall be!" Abram promised quickly, sweating. "But not with blood! Not tonight! Think of the Council! Think of the... the Welcome Ball!"Philia frowned. "Ball?""Yes!" Abram lied

The leather couch in the Alpha’s study was made for sitting, reading, and occasionally brooding. It was not made for sleeping. Especially not for a man who stood six-foot-three and carried the weight of an entire territory on his broad shoulders.Oreon stared up at the dark, stone ceiling. The fire in the grate had burned down to embers that illuminated the room.He shifted, trying to get comfortable. The leather squeaked in the silence. His feet hung off the end.Humiliating.That was the only word for it. He was the Alpha. His father, Roric, had been a king in these halls. Roric would have thrown Philia out the window the moment she demanded his bed.But Oreon... Oreon was sleeping on a couch while a warlord snored in his sheets.He closed his eyes as the self-loathing rose like bile in his throat.You are small, Philia had said.Maybe she was right. Since the fire eleven years ago, he had spent every day trying to keep the peace. Trying to rebuild. Trying to be the "good" Alpha. He

The midday sun beat down on the Ashwood training ring, baking the dirt until it was hard as iron. But the air didn't smell like summer heat. It smelled of copper."Another one down!" Philia roared, throwing her head back and laughing. "Next!"In the center of the ring, a young Ashwood patrolman was curled on the ground, holding a broken nose. Standing over him was a Stone Ridge soldier twice his width, grinning through a gap in his teeth.The crowd was a sea of grey and green. Philia’s soldiers cheered as they banged their fists on the wooden railings. The Ashwood pack members watched in terrified silence.It was a massacre.Oreon stood in the Alpha’s box, a raised platform overlooking the arena. His hands gripped the wooden rail so hard the wood groaned. His jaw was locked tight as a muscle ticked violently in his cheek."They are slaughtering them," Oreon whispered in suppressed rage. "That is the fourth broken bone this hour. She isn't testing them. She is breaking them."Beside h