All Chapters of The alpha’s forgotten mate : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

 The cold was no longer an enemy.Nor was the fire.They were one.Lyra’s breath came out in small clouds that shimmered like frost. Her heart beat steady, but the rhythm was different, haunted by a pulse both burning and frozen.Around her, the camp waited in tense silence.No one dared move first.Dara’s voice broke the stillness.“Lyra… what happened in the temple? What are you now?”Lyra’s amber eyes flickered like a dying flame wrapped in ice.“I’m... neither fire nor frost. I’m both. And it’s tearing me apart.”Whispers spread like wildfire.Rowan stepped forward, voice heavy with disbelief. “You’re not the queen we followed. You’re… something else. Something dangerous.”“Dangerous, maybe,” Lyra admitted. “But if I don’t control it, it will consume me and all of

The frostlands stretched before them like a vast, endless sea of white, fractured only by jagged ice formations that jutted from the ground like the broken teeth of some long dead beast. Under the pale moonlight, the frozen world shimmered, beautiful and merciless all at once. Snow drifted endlessly across the plains, whispering against itself as though the land were breathing.Lyra’s boots crunched softly as she led the pack deeper into the heart of the frozen wasteland. Each step sent a sharp chill up her legs, biting through leather and fur. The air burned her lungs with every breath, yet beneath her skin pulsed a strange, volatile warmth, a fusion of fire and frost that neither fully obeyed nor fully rejected her. It was power born of contradiction, and it demanded a price each time she called upon it.Behind her, the wolves moved with practiced, silent precision.Rowan brought up the rear, his dark eyes scanning the horizon and every shifting shadow, hand never far from his blade

The frostlands’ biting wind howled through the skeletal trees, carrying whispers of ancient secrets and unspoken fears. Snow clung to bare branches like frozen bones, creaking softly as the gale pushed through the northern forest. Lyra’s breath fogged the air in steady bursts, each exhale a reminder of how thin the warmth within her had grown. Her boots crunched over brittle snow as she followed Kael deeper into the woods a place even the hardiest wolves avoided.This forest remembered things.Kael moved ahead of her without a sound, his steps light, deliberate. His shoulders were tense, his eyes constantly shifting, tracking movement where Lyra saw only shadow. The farther they went, the heavier the air became, thick with something unseen yet unmistakably present.“There’s a place you need to see,” Kael said quietly, his voice low with urgency. “And someone.”Lyra’s fingers flexed at her side. She had felt

The frostlands lay silent beneath a heavy, starless sky. The biting cold pressed down on the camp like a suffocating shroud, and even the howling wind seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for something terrible to stir. Lyra stood at the edge of the encampment, her breath clouding in the air, her amber eyes fixed on the shifting shadows that writhed at the horizon like restless spirits. The faint glow of dying embers from their campfires flickered weakly behind her, struggling against the encroaching darkness. The stillness was deceptive. It was a silence pregnant with menace, the pause before the storm. Around her, the pack moved quietly, their faces drawn and tense. The recent betrayal had cut deep, fracturing trust among them like a jagged crack in ice, but it had also forged a steel resolve none could ignore. Every glance was wary, every whisper cautious. The enemy they faced was no longer just the Void, the battle with the ancient darkness had awakened something far older, f

The frostlands did not mourn.They simply endured.Dawn broke pale and unforgiving over the shattered ice fields, light spilling across a land still scarred by shadow. Lyra stood at the center of the camp, unmoving, her eyes fixed on the place where Dara had vanished. The ground there was blackened, the frost cracked and warped as though reality itself had recoiled.Dara was gone.Taken.The knowledge sat in Lyra’s chest like a blade lodged too deep to pull free.Around her, the pack gathered in tense silence. No one spoke. No one dared. The wind carried the faint scent of ash and cold iron, remnants of the Shadow Lord’s passing. Every instinct screamed that this was no ordinary loss. Dara hadn’t just been captured, she had been claimed.Kael finally broke the silence. “The Shadow Lord wanted this,” he said quietly. “He didn’t take Dara to weaken us. He took her to provoke you.”Lyra’s jaw tightened. “Then he succeeded.”Mira stepped closer, her voice sharp with barely restrained fear