Lahat ng Kabanata ng My little fierce mate: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

I hadn’t seen Jake for the past few days, which, truth be told, was a good thing.No sharp gazes that seemed to read me like an open book. No dangerous smirks that made my chest tighten. No pull in my soul I couldn’t ignore. For once, I could breathe, think, and—most importantly—focus on the little life growing inside me.The diner smelled like grease and burnt coffee, the same as always, and today it didn’t make me gag. I moved through the morning rush on autopilot, wiping tables, refilling cups, sliding plates across counters. Every careful motion reminded me that I had responsibilities now. That I wasn’t just Ella anymore—I was a protector, a guardian of something fragile, something entirely my own.I pressed a hand to my stomach as I carried a tray across the room. The flutter inside me caught my attention again, soft and strange, almost like it was… watching. I frowned, shaking my head.“It’s nothing,” I whispered, more to convince myself than anyone else. “Just the baby.”But t

ELLA’S POVThe apartment was too quiet. Too heavy. I sat curled on the bed, one hand pressed to my stomach, the other gripping the blanket like it might hold me together.Jake’s face wouldn’t leave my mind. That night outside the diner—the way his eyes burned like fire through the glass, the way the bond had tugged at me so hard I could barely breathe.Not now, Jake. I had whispered it, almost to myself. But the way his gaze locked on me, like he heard it anyway… it had terrified me.And yet—when I walked home, something in me knew. I wasn’t alone.Every shadow seemed too still, every echo too sharp. But the danger never reached me. I never saw it, never felt it—but I felt him. His presence, like a shield I couldn’t see but somehow leaned against.Jake. Watching. Guarding. Always close enough to protect, but far enough to let me pretend I was alone.I hated him for that. I wanted to hate him. But some stubborn part of me… was grateful.The baby fluttered again, small and insistent, an

My eyes snapped open.The ceiling above me wasn’t shadow, wasn’t dream. It was real. The same cracked paint, the faint scent of pine drifting through the half-open window. But everything looked sharper, brighter—like the world itself had been stripped bare of its lies.I sat up slowly, the sheets clinging to my skin as if they, too, didn’t want to let go of the girl I used to be. My fingers trembled, but not from weakness. From power. From knowing.I was no longer just Ella.The quiet in my chest was gone, replaced by a steady hum that felt like a second heartbeat—Kate’s presence, pulsing with mine. Not an intruder. Not a burden. A mirror. A reminder.For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was at war with myself.And then, like gravity remembering its job, my thoughts fell to him. Jake.I could feel him before I saw him. His wolf brushed against mine, an ache and a pull, like the universe itself had threaded us together and dared me to deny it.He was waiting and i couldn't

“And the pack?” she asked before I could offer. “What happens if they—”“I’ll handle the pack,” I cut in, steady. “My people will not touch you or the child. If anyone gets close to crossing a line—” My jaw tightened. Griffin hummed, a low rumble at the edge of my words. “—they’ll learn why we are called White Cliff.”My vow wasn’t a bluff. It was a line I drew with my name. Being Alpha meant taking the hard things. I’d burn and rebuild a thousand times if that was what it took.She flinched when I said it, not from the word but from the weight of it. “You can’t just make promises and expect everything to be fixed,” she said, honest and raw.“I don’t expect it,” I answered. “I’ll work for it. Every day.” I reached for her again, more slowly this time, letting her set the pace.I couldn’t rest. I wanted her with me every hour, every quiet, every stupid morning. Maybe that sounds selfish, but I couldn’t help it — her lavender scent filled the air and made this room feel like home for th

Anna’s voice cut the air then, cold as a blade. She had remained in the hall’s periphery until now, every inch of her a coiled thing. She stepped forward, each movement precise. “What do we call it if not necessity?” she asked, and there was no pleading in it—only the plain arithmetic of ambition. “We remove the variable. We eliminate the chance. Better a clean end than a war twenty years from now that claims the pack and our line.”Kingsley inclined his head, noting, not answering. The firelight caught the steel at his temple where a memory had once been carved. “It is not cruelty we propose,” he said finally. “It is stewardship. The pack endures because of hard decisions.” He said the word with the patience of one who has spent his life making them.William — broken, trapped, the architect of his daughter's exile — folded. It was not nobility that bent him but survival and shame. “Do it quietly,” he rasped. “No blood that will mark the land. No spectacle. Let it be as if she never e