All Chapters of TWO ALPHAS ONE BOND : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

LYRA I found them both in Zeviar's study. Sunlight was barely cresting the tree line outside the window, and two glasses of something amber were already sitting half-empty on the desk between them. "It's not even nine in the morning," I said from the doorway, raising an eyebrow as I took in the sight of the Alpha King and his brother nursing what was unmistakably whiskey before the household had properly woken up. "Please tell me that's water." "It's water for people who've had a normal night," Orion said, lifting his glass in a mock toast. "For people who watched their mate get beaten up for three rounds, found out their family was complicit in a genocide, and then watched a council session nearly blow up, this counts as breakfast." I let out something between a laugh and a sigh and crossed the room toward them, my bare feet quiet against the old wood floor. I'd thrown on one of Zeviar's shirts over sleep shorts before coming to find them, with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows a

ORION I looked at my brother for a long moment, weighing something I hadn't let myself entertain in thirty years. "You understand what you're actually offering," I said slowly. "Not just the title, the whole weight of it. Every decision I make from that point on becomes something the council picks apart, looking for a reason to say the arrangement failed. Every mistake I make won't just be mine; it'll be proof that two Alphas was always a bad idea. I'd be walking into that scrutiny with a target painted on my back before I've even done a single thing wrong." "I know," Zeviar said. "I've thought about that too." "There's more to it than the council hating the idea," I said, dragging a hand down my face. "Nightshade isn't just some allied territory you can fold in with a signature. We're rogues, Zeviar. Every single person in that pack chose to leave, got kicked out, or was born to someone who did. Half of them don't trust structured pack law to begin with, because structured pack la

LYRA Zeviar had been standing quietly near the window since Silas left, giving Willow and me space to have our moment without stepping in. When Willow finally let out that wet, surprised laugh, he crossed the room to join us, his expression softening at whatever he'd caught the tail end of. "I don't want to interrupt," he said, looking between us, "but I wanted to tell you both something before the morning gets away from us." Willow's hands, still loosely wrapped in mine, stilled slightly, an old instinct bracing for bad news out of habit. "The pack is holding a burial after breakfast," Zeviar said. "For Morgana and Morvaine." The names landed heavier than I expected, considering everything else the morning had already brought. I felt Willow's fingers tighten around mine. "I know they were a threat to you," Zeviar continued, looking at me now, as careful as he always was when he thought a subject might cost me something. "I know what they cost you personally in that arena. I woul

LYRAThe walk back from the burial grounds took longer than it should have, mostly because I let it.Orion was already gone by the time we cleared the ridge. He gave me a quick, fierce hug and promised to call as soon as he talked to his pack, then pulled out of the gates before I'd even made it past the tree line. Zeviar peeled off toward the war room not long after, where a cluster of warriors was already waiting for him near the entrance. They were discussing border patrols and reinforced watch rotations after last night's attack. He pressed a kiss to my temple, murmured something about finding me later, and then he was gone too, swallowed up by a conversation I wasn't needed for.Which left me, for the first time in longer than I could remember, with nothing scheduled. No trial. No council. No confession waiting behind a closed door. Just an afternoon stretching out ahead of me, empty in a way that felt less like relief and more like standing on the edge of something.I took the l

LYRA The lake house kitchen smelled like garlic and rosemary, and I was fairly sure at least one of those smells was actually smoke. "I didn't burn it," Zeviar said without turning around, sliding a pan off the heat with the calm authority of a man who ruled an entire pack but had apparently never learned to gauge stovetop temperatures. "It's caramelized." "That's very generous phrasing for what I'm looking at." "I'll have you know I've been told my cooking is excellent." "By who?" I asked, hopping up onto the counter. "Your terrified staff, who'd rather compliment you than face your wrath?" "Nobody has ever described me as wrathful." "I watched you nearly lose your title threatening a room full of council members two days ago." "That's different. That's Alpha business." He plated the questionably caramelized chicken with a flourish that suggested he was choosing to ignore the smell entirely. "This is domestic business. An entirely separate category." "Uh-huh." “He's trying s