Semua Bab Fated to the Alpha Widow: Bab 1 - Bab 10

CHAPTER 1 They kept the coffin closed.That was the first thing Sable Hart noticed.In Briar Hollow, people loved proof. They loved spectacle. They loved to lean in close and whisper about what death did to the mighty—how it shrank them, softened them, made them ordinary enough to bury.But today there was no leaning.No whispering.Only distance.Only stillness.And the closed coffin—black lacquered wood with a silver crest pressed into the center—like the dead inside might bite if given air.Rain hung in the clouds but didn’t fall. The sky was the color of old steel, and wind moved through the cemetery in slow sweeps, flattening winter grass and lifting coat hems like curious fingers.Sable stood near the back, half-shadowed beneath a bare oak. Her black dress felt too thin for the cold, but she hadn’t dressed for warmth. She’d dressed to disappear.It wasn’t working.The f

CHAPTER 3 The engine roared like it had been waiting for him.Sable didn’t move her hand.She didn’t breathe.For a heartbeat, she stared at the dashboard as if the car itself had become a thing with intent. Then cold brushed her knuckles again—clearer this time—and her skin reacted before her mind could argue. Gooseflesh rose. Her pulse stuttered.A hand—more sensation than sight—covered hers on the wheel.“Don’t fight me,” Caelan murmured at her ear, velvet over gravel. “Not while they’re close.”Sable swallowed hard. “You’re not real.”A pause. Then, softer—almost bitter: “Say that again when you stop shaking.”She hated that he was right.She hated more that the bond responded—her wrist flaring hot, her pulse sliding toward his rhythm like it wanted to be held there.Lyra’s hand lifted—palm down.A signal.The wolves in the road tensed.Sable moved on in

CHAPTER 5 The old highway narrowed until it felt less like a road and more like a wound cut through forest.Sable drove with white-knuckled focus, rain blurring the world into streaks of shadow and silver. The engine sounded wrong—too steady, too strong for her battered sedan—as if something else powered it from beneath the hood.Her wrist burned under Caelan’s grip.Not painful.Possessive.Like the bond had decided her body belonged to a rule she didn’t understand.“Let go,” Sable said through clenched teeth.Caelan didn’t tighten, but he didn’t release. “You’ll crash if you keep fighting me.”“I’m not fighting you,” she snapped. “I’m trying to survive.”“Same thing,” he murmured.Sable’s ribs throbbed when she breathed, and she hated that the pain made her aware of him in a different way—how close his presence was, how it curled around her like a coat she hadn’t agreed to wear.

CHAPTER 7 Maeven’s porch charms swung harder, clinking like panicked teeth.The howl had ended, but the sound lingered in Sable’s bones—low, old, and wrong, like something ancient had just cleared its throat in the dark.Sable stood frozen at the bottom of the porch steps, rain sliding down her hair, ribs aching, wrist burning beneath her sleeve. Her hand hovered near her chest where the second heartbeat had pulsed—once, twice—too eager to be fear.Maeven’s smile was gone.For the first time since Sable arrived, the bone-seer looked like a woman who understood danger and didn’t enjoy it.“It’s here,” Maeven whispered.Caelan’s presence slammed into the clearing like a cold wall.Sable felt him—tight, furious, protective—close enough that her skin rose under his invisible touch. The air around her chilled, and the rain seemed to hesitate at the edge of that cold, as if even water didn’t want to land where he sto

CHAPTER 9 Darkness swallowed the room so completely Sable couldn’t even see her own hands.For a beat, there was only the sound of her breathing—ragged, too loud—and the second heartbeat inside her chest answering like it was pleased with the fear.Thump.Thump.Thump.Then the candles relit all at once.Not flickering back to life like normal fire.Snapping on—bright, white, too clean—like someone had flipped a switch in the air.Maeven stood in the candle circle with her head tilted, listening to something Sable couldn’t hear. Her eyes were wide now, not black, but human-dark, and her mouth had gone tight with concentration.Caelan’s presence filled the space beside Sable like a storm pressed into a man’s outline. She couldn’t see him fully, but she felt him—cold, furious, protective.It heard you, he’d said.And the other voice—smooth, satisfied—had answered: I know where to come.