All Chapters of Chosen by the cursed Alpha king : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

I noticed it before anyone said a word. Aria’s scent shifted while she stood beside me in the corridor, helping me arrange fresh linens for the guest rooms. At first, I thought it was my imagination or my senses had been sharper since everything we’d been through, but hen it hit me fully, unmistakably. Her usual soft, familiar scent was threaded with something new. Warmer. Deeper. Restless. Mate-scent. My heart skipped. I turned to look at her, really look at her. She was tense, shoulders tight, fingers gripping the fabric in her hands as though she was afraid it might slip away. Her eyes darted down the hallway, then back to me, wide and confused. “You feel it too, don’t you?” she whispered. I nodded slowly. “Your mate is close,” I said. “Very close.” Fear and wonder warred across her face. “But who?” she asked. “I haven’t seen anyone new. I haven’t… Luna Lena, it just started today. It’s getting stronger.” Before I could answer, a sharp howl cut through the air urgent, comman

I fell asleep the way only exhaustion can gift you, heavy, boneless, and wrapped in warmth and the steady rise and fall of Damon’s chest behind me. Whatever fire had burned between us earlier had softened into embers, glowing quietly beneath my skin. He slept deeply, one arm draped over my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck, anchoring me to the present.That was how the dream found me.There was no falling into it. No blur. One moment I was asleep, and the next I was standing barefoot on silver ground that glimmered like frost beneath moonlight. The sky above me was vast and pale, the moon impossibly large, watching……always watching.She was already there.The Moon Goddess.She stood a short distance away in her true form, the white silvery wolf, her fur glowing as though it were woven from light itself. Usually, when she appeared, there was comfort. Even in fear, there had been reassurance, a sense that no matter the cost, balance would be restored.But not this time.

Some truths do not arrive loudly.They do not burst through doors or announce themselves with thunder.They come quietly, heavy, patiently waiting for the moment your heart is finally strong enough to carry them.That morning, the pack felt different.Not restless. Not afraid.Just… still.The kind of stillness that settles after a storm, when the ground is wet and the air smells clean, but the trees are still broken and the earth remembers what it endured.Damon had not slept well. I knew it even before he told me. His wolf paced beneath his skin, unsettled, as if something old had been stirred awake and was now refusing to rest.When he told me the seer had summoned us both, I felt it in my bones.Somehow, I already knew this was not about the future.It was about the past.********The seer’s hut sat at the edge of the inner grounds, half-swallowed by vines and age. It had always looked like that, ancient, watching, as if it had grown alongside the pack itself.Inside, the air smel

The sun was high and unapologetic that afternoon, spilling golden light across my office floor and warming the stacks of parchment before me.I had been buried in reports for hours.The hunters had submitted their monthly records, numbers, territories covered, prey counts, border notes, supply tallies. Normally, Damon would review them with that focused crease between his brows while I sat nearby pretending not to watch how attractive he looked when he was being Alpha.But Damon was away.So I was Alpha in his absence.I straightened in my chair and flipped to the final file. The ink was still fresh. The scent of the forest clung faintly to the parchment, a reminder that while politics and civil wars raged beyond our borders, life here still required structure.Three elk. Seven deer. Minor wolf scent detected near the northern ridge but deemed non-threatening.I nodded to myself, making a small notation in the margin.“Acceptable,” I murmured.For the first time since Damon had left,

Evening settled over the pack like a soft sigh.After the heaviness of the morning, the letter, Damon’s grief, the unspoken weight of Iron Crest, we all seemed to move through the day more gently. The warriors trained, the omegas cooked, the children played, but there was an undercurrent of quiet thoughtfulness threading through everything.By the time dinner ended, the sky had begun to fade into streaks of violet and amber. The courtyard lanterns flickered to life one by one, casting warm pools of light over the stone paths.Eloise and I stepped outside together, grateful for the fresh air.“I swear,” she was saying between laughter, “Antonio thinks glaring at patrol maps counts as romance.”I chuckled, linking my arm through hers. “To be fair, he probably thinks keeping you alive is the highest form of devotion.”“It is,” she admitted, cheeks pink. “But I’d still like flowers occasionally.”“Steal them from the garden,” I suggested lightly. “Tell him you picked them yourself.”She g