Lahat ng Kabanata ng TWO ALPHAS ONE BOND : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

LYRA The walk back to Ravenwood was silent and tense. Lucius walked beside me. Behind us, Zeviar and Orion followed, their footsteps heavy on the dirt path. I could feel their anger like heat against my back, could sense the barely controlled fury radiating from both of them. I kept my chin up and refused to look back. "This is a mistake," Sky said. “You've said that already.” "Because you're not listening." I ignored her. By the time we reached the packhouse, the sky was beginning to lighten. Dawn painted the grounds in soft shades of pink and gold. The front door burst open before we reached it. Willow stood there in her pajamas, hair wild, face pale and tear-streaked. "Lyra!" She ran down the steps and grabbed my shoulders. "Where the hell have you been? I woke up, and you were gone— I almost lost my mind!" "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you." "You didn't mean to—" Her voice cracked. She looked past me to Lucius, then to the twins. "What's going on?

LYRA I don't know how long we stood there. Willow held me while I cried, her arms steady and sure around me. She didn't say anything. Didn't tell me it would be okay or that I was overreacting. She just held me. And somehow, that was exactly what I needed. Eventually, my tears slowed. My breathing evened out. I pulled back, wiping at my face. "I'm a mess." "You're human," Willow said. Then she caught herself. "Well. You know what I mean." Despite everything, I almost laughed. She guided me to a stone bench tucked beneath a willow tree—fitting, really—and we sat down together. The garden was beautiful at night. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows across the grass. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear the faint murmur of voices from the ballroom, but out here, it felt like we were in a different world entirely. "That was intense," Willow said finally. "That's an understatement." "Do you want to talk about it?" I shook my head. "I don't even know

LYRA The drive to Nightshade took just over two hours. I spent most of it staring out the window, watching the landscape shift from Ravenwood's carefully manicured grounds to wild forest and then, gradually, to something else entirely. Nightshade territory was different. Where Ravenwood was traditional—all stone and elegance and old-world charm—Nightshade was modern and sleek. Almost industrial. As we crossed into pack lands, I saw it immediately. The buildings were all dark glass and steel, sharp angles and clean lines. Everything was black, charcoal gray, deep blue. It looked less like a pack settlement and more like a private compound. Powerful. Dangerous. Exclusive. "It's beautiful," Sky said, her presence alert and eager. “It's different.” "Different good. It feels... strong. Confident." I knew what she meant. There was an energy to this place that Ravenwood didn't have. Not better or worse. Just different. We passed through a security checkpoint—guards in black tactical

LYRA I woke up smiling as the sun streamed through the windows of the guest room, and for a moment, I just lay there, reliving last night. The kiss. God, the kiss. I touched my lips, feeling the ghost of his mouth on mine, and warmth spread through my entire body. "Good morning," Sky said in a singsong voice. “Don't start.” "I'm not starting anything. I'm just saying—we told you so." I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop smiling. "I'm sure Rhys is very happy. And so am I." “I'm happy too.” "Good. Now go find him so we can be even happier." I laughed, shaking my head as I got ready. I found Orion in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in his hand. He looked up when I entered, and his entire face lit up. "Good morning," he said. "Morning." He set down his mug and crossed over to me, and before I could say anything else, he cupped my face and kissed me. It was slow and sweet. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. When he pulled back, he was

ZEVIAR The boardroom was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional shuffle of papers. Twenty executives sat around the massive glass table, all eyes on me. Waiting. They always waited for me to speak first. I leaned back in my chair, fingers interlaced, and let the silence stretch just long enough to make them uncomfortable. "No," I said finally. Harrison, the lead investor, blinked. Mid-fifties, expensive suit, oozing confidence. "Mr. Knight, if you could just take a look at the revised numbers—” "I did. The answer is still no." "But the profit margins—" "Are acceptable, but not exceptional." I leaned forward slightly, and Harrison shut his mouth. "I don't do business for acceptable returns. If you want my investment, bring me something worth my time." Silence. Then one of the younger executives cleared his throat. "What would make it worth your time, sir?" I studied him, ambitious and hungry. He reminded me of myself a decade ago. "Double the