ALPHA DADDY: Take Mommy Home のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

The clearing had changed.It no longer felt like home.The trees stood taller, darker, their shadows stretching like claws across the ground. The air was thick with tension, buzzing with unspoken accusations and fear. Wolves stood in tight circles, some whispering, some staring openly at Lia as if she were a threat that had finally taken shape.She stood in the center.Alone.Not because Damien had abandoned her—but because he had been forced back.The Elders had invoked ancient law.An impartial hearing.Which was a lie.Nothing about this was impartial.Marrec raised his staff, the carved runes glowing faintly. “By pack law, this trial will determine whether Lia of no bloodline is a danger to the Alpha and the pack.”Lia clenched her fists.No bloodline.Not human.Not wolf.Just… disposable.Rowan stood to the right, posture rigid, face carefully bruised, his eyes never meeting hers.He was playing the victim perfectly.Damien stood beyond the ring of stones, restrained by two seni

The night didn’t feel like night.It felt like a wound.The pack grounds were quiet in a way that didn’t soothe only warned. Every shadow felt intentional, every whisper of wind like it carried secrets. Damien didn’t slow as he walked. Lia remained in his arms, her face buried against his chest, Leo cradled between them.She could feel his heartbeat.Fast.Hard.Protective.No one dared stop him.Not the elders.Not the guards.Not even Selena.They watched.They whispered.But they didn’t move.Because they had seen something shift.And they were afraid.Damien didn’t take Lia back to the Alpha house.He took her to the eastern wing old territory. Abandoned. Protected by ancient wards.When the doors slammed shut behind them, he finally set her down.She staggered.He caught her again.“Breathe,” he said.She was shaking.Her hands were still curled into fists.Leo clung to her, trembling.“Mommy…” he whispered.She dropped to her knees and pulled him into her chest.“I’m here,” she

Lia woke with the taste of metal in her mouth.Not blood fear.Her heart was racing so hard it hurt, her hands clutching the blanket like she’d fallen from a height and hadn’t landed yet.The room was dim. Silent.Too silent.She sat up abruptly.“Leo?” she whispered.No answer.Her pulse spiked.She swung her legs off the bed, ignoring the dizziness, and stood.The door was open.That had not been how she’d left it.Her body knew before her mind did.Something was wrong.She rushed into the hall.“Leo?” she called.Her voice echoed.Too loudly.She turned the cornerAnd collided with Damien.He caught her instantly.“Easy,” he said.Her hands grabbed his arms.“Where is my son?”His jaw tightened.“He’s safe.”Her chest seized.“That’s not an answer.”“He’s with my guard.”“Why?”He exhaled slowly.“Because the pack is splitting.”She stared at him.“What do you mean splitting?”He didn’t sugarcoat it.“Some are leaving.”Her throat went dry.“Leaving where?”“Selena.”The name struc

The pack felt it.Before anyone spoke.Before any announcement was made.Something had changed.The air over the territory was tense, heavy, like the moment before lightning strikes. Wolves paced. Guards whispered. Elders avoided one another’s eyes.And at the center of it allDamien Hale stood alone.He had brought Lia and Leo back before dawn, placing them in the safest part of the eastern wing. Guards he trusted only those he trusted were stationed outside.Lia slept.Exhausted.Drained.Leo curled against her side, one small hand fisted in her clothes like he was afraid she’d vanish.Damien watched them for a long moment.Then he turned away.Because if he didn’t, he would break.The challenge came at sunrise.Formal.Public.Unavoidable.A horn sounded across the territory not the alarm, not the council call.The Challenge Horn.Old law.Older than Damien’s rule.Older than the pack’s comfort.Marrec stood in the clearing, staff planted firmly in the ground.Around him stood wolv

Training did not get easier.It got sharper.More precise.More unforgiving.Three days after Lia’s first breakthrough, Damien stopped treating her like someone who might survive and started treating her like someone who had to.That difference nearly broke her.They trained at dawn and again at dusk, never in the same place twice. Sometimes in the clearing, sometimes deep in the woods where the trees pressed close and the ground was uneven. Damien said unpredictability was part of survival.“Power that only works in comfort is useless,” he told her.Lia learned that the hard way.On the fourth morning, he brought weapons.Not claws.Not blades.Stones.Simple. Heavy. Honest.“You won’t always have strength,” Damien said, placing one in her hand. “But you’ll always have weight.”She frowned. “You’re teaching me to throw rocks?”“I’m teaching you to aim,” he corrected.He stepped back.“Hit me.”She stared at him. “Absolutely not.”“You won’t hurt me.”“That’s not reassuring.”“Lia.”S