All Chapters of Ruin Me, Alpha: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

63 Chapters

The Choice

I didn't scream. I didn’t cry. I stared at the note—Find me—and I moved. My feet hit the cold floor, scrambling for the dress I had discarded hours ago. I pulled the silk fabric up my body, not caring that it was wrinkled, not caring that I smelled like sex and stale wine. I shoved my feet into my heels and sprinted for the door. I threw the heavy oak doors open and burst into the hallway. Empty. "Devon!" I screamed, my voice bouncing off the stone walls. Silence. I ran. I didn't know where I was running to, but my legs carried me toward the Grand Hall. That’s where the loops always centered. That’s where the parties were. That’s where the resets happened. I took the stairs two at a time, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I reached the bottom landing and shoved the double doors to the ballroom open, expecting the blast of orchestral music, the clinking of champagne glasses, the anniversary of Alpha Devon just like how the time loop started when Devon wasn't t

The Funeral

DEVONThe engine hummed. Rain lashed against the tinted windows of the SUV, that blurred the world outside into streaks of grey and green.I didn’t need to look out to know where the time loop had taken me. I didn’t need to check the date on the dashboard to know when we were. The universe, in its infinite sense of irony, had a twisted sense of humor.I was back."We are here, Beta," the driver announced, his voice trembling slightly.I didn't answer. I just stared out the window.We were parked on the outskirts of the Ironfang Pack’s cemetery. Rows of jagged headstones poked out of the earth. A small crowd had gathered under a cluster of black umbrellas near a fresh grave.My eyes locked onto her instantly.Irene.She stood at the front, the rain soaking into her black dress, plastering it to her skin. She wasn't holding an umbrella. She was holding a portrait.It was Baron.I felt a cold, sharp smirk threaten to pull at the corner of my mouth, but I held it back. I knew exactly whos

The Dinner

DEVONI stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in my quarters, adjusting the collar of my black dress shirt. My movements were fluid, practiced over a thousand lifetimes. I looked younger, sure. The heavy scars of the Great War hadn't etched themselves into my skin yet, and the silver at my temples was gone. But the eyes—the eyes were the same. Cold. Ancient. Hungry."You’re staring again, sir," Zane said from the doorway. He was hovering, as always."I’m admiring the view, Zane," I replied, my voice like grinding stones. "It’s rare to see a dead man looking so fit."Zane laughed nervously, thinking I was making a joke about the Northern Front. He had no idea I was talking about the version of me I’d seen disemboweled in a timeline he would never remember. To him, I was the hero Beta who had just secured our borders. To me, I was a ghost that would die more than a dozen times, murdered by the love of his life."The Alpha is waiting downstairs. Dinner is served," Zane informed m

The Engagement Dinner

DEVONThe sound of Alpha Rowan cutting into his steak was enough to make me want to burn the building down. Scrape. Clink. Chew.I sat at the long mahogany table, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. I didn’t drink it. I just watched the light catch the alcohol, counting the seconds. In exactly three seconds, my father, Raymond, would clear his throat and offer Rowan more wine.One.Two.Three.“More vintage, Alpha Rowan?” Raymond asked, his voice eager, bordering on pathetic. “It’s from the southern vineyards. A spoil of war.”“Don’t mind if I do, Raymond,” Rowan chuckled, holding out his glass.I closed my eyes for a brief moment. I had lived this dinner before.In the real timeline, I flipped the table and killed Rowan before the appetizers arrived. I sat in silence until the dessert came, bored out of my mind. Then, I walked out before the main course, in a blood-stained shirt.But tonight was different. Tonight, the clock in my head was ticking louder than usual.Twe

The Abduction

DEVONI sat in the driver’s seat, the lights cut, parked on a ridge overlooking the Ironfang ceremonial grounds. The darkness inside the car was comforting. Below me, the engagement party was in full swing.Alpha Theo had chosen the West Field for the occasion. It was a sprawling expanse of manicured grass usually reserved for combat training, but tonight, it had been transformed into a grotesque display of wealth. Massive white marquees glowed with golden fairy lights, open-sided to let the night breeze through. Tables draped in white linen were arranged in a semi-circle around a raised dais. Servants moved like ants, carrying trays of roasted venison and sparkling wine.It was a waste of resources. It was a waste of time.But my eyes weren’t on the decor. They were locked on the woman sitting at the center of the high table.Irene.In this loop, she wore sage green. It fitted her perfectly, along with that red hair I had once fisted while we fucked against my office mahogany desk.

The Morning After

DEVONApple juice.It was crisp, sweet, and cold against the back of my throat. I took another sip, the condensation on the glass wetting my fingertips, and leaned back in the velvet armchair I’d pulled to the side of the bed.The room was silent, save for the rhythmic hum of the central air and the soft, uneven breathing of the woman in the bed.Irene.She was still asleep. The sedative pinch I’d given her back at the engagement party—was it only twelve hours ago?—had been precise. I didn’t use drugs. I didn’t use magic. Just anatomy. But the stress of the night, the emotional toll of seeing me, and the wolfsbane I had pumping into the air had kept her under longer than usual.I checked my watch. 10:03 AM.We were making good time. In the real timeline, I hadn't even known what she looked like, yet... I had caught a glimpse of her during an entreaty and had gotten immediately obsessed.Then, few days later, I heard she was getting engaged with Voltage which is why I started that war

The Letting Go

DEVONThe grandfather clock in the hallway chimed seven times.Precise.I liked precision. It was the only thing I could control in a world that insisted on resetting itself every time I was killed by the woman I loved.I stood by the head of the mahogany dining table, pouring a glass of dark red Cabernet. The liquid swirled against the crystal, blood-red and rich. I didn’t drink immediately. I just watched the double doors at the far end of the room.They opened.The air in the room shifted instantly. It wasn’t just a change in pressure; it was a shift in gravity.Irene stood in the doorway.I had ordered the dress myself, a calculated move. It was black, sleeveless, with a plunging neckline that stopped dangerously low, exposing the creamy skin of her chest. The fabric clung to her curves like a second skin, spilling down to the floor in a pool of midnight silk. Against the black, her red hair was a violent explosion of color, cascading over her shoulders like fire.She looked like

The Final Countdown

DEVONTwenty-three days.I cut into the steak on my plate, the silver knife slicing through the rare meat with a satisfying slide. Blood pooled on the porcelain, mixing with the peppercorn sauce.Twenty-three days since Voltage dragged her out of my house. Twenty-three days of silence. Twenty-three days of watching the clock on the wall tick down toward my damnation.I chewed slowly, savoring the metallic taste.In less than twenty-four hours, the loop would seal. The window was closing. The witch had been clear about the parameters: make her love me, or get stuck in this hellish repetition for eternity. If the clock struck midnight tonight and Irene didn’t look at me with something other than murderous hatred, I was trapped.I swallowed and took a sip of the bourbon I’d poured for breakfast. It burned going down.I didn’t mind being trapped. I didn’t mind the hell. I just hated losing.The heavy oak doors of the dining hall swung open, banging against the walls. I didn’t look up. I k

The Reckoning

DEVONI didn’t move. I didn’t even breathe.Irene stood in the center of my dining hall, a vibrant, bleeding wound of a woman against the cold mahogany and stone. The red dress was a statement—a scream of defiance against the white lace Voltage undoubtedly had waiting for her. Her amber eyes were rimmed with red, her chest heaving, her scent a chaotic storm of vanilla and pure, unadulterated adrenaline.I let the silence stretch. I let the clock on the wall tick once, twice, three times. I was the Alpha. I was the man who had lived through many deaths . I wasn't going to let her see the way my heart was currently trying to punch its way out of my ribs.I set the bourbon bottle down with a slow, deliberate click.“You’re late for breakfast,” I said, my voice as smooth as the silk of her dress.Irene didn’t flinch. She marched forward, her heels clicking like a countdown on the marble floor. She stopped right in front of me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her hat

The Return

IRENEREAL WORLD — PRESENT Twenty-four months.Seven hundred and thirty days.That was how long it had been since the world stopped spinning, even though everyone else insisted it kept turning.I sat on the edge of my bed in the North Pack guest quarters, staring at the wall. The silence was deafening. It was supposed to be peaceful. That was the lie I told myself when I walked away from the witch two years ago. She had given me the choice: enter the loop, enter his hell, and fight for him, or walk away and live.I chose to live. I chose sanity. I told myself that the sick hating game with Devon was a cancer I needed to cut out. I told myself I would be happy without the blood, the obsession, the constant war of our existence. I thought the decision I made was the best for me.Keyword: thought.I wasn't happy. I was a hollow shell painted to look like a woman. Every night for two years, I grieved him. Not the monster who killed my brother, not the Alpha who tormented me, but the love

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