บททั้งหมดของ Hero Alpha and Dying Stepdaughter: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 9

I was reborn. Back to the year I was fifteen, the exact moment my parents severed their mate bond.The Council Elder was reading the final terms. My father, Gareth, stood on the left, his face ashen, his eyes hollow.He had been the Alpha of the Colton Pack. But he'd gotten hooked on underground wolf fights and gambled away everything his ancestors had built—territory by territory, until even the Pack House was on the betting table.My mother, Diane, stood on the right, makeup flawless, chin tilted upward. She couldn't stomach the fall—from Alpha's wife to a gambler's woman, overnight.She was remarrying. Alpha Alaric of the Ashford Pack—one of the most powerful Alphas the werewolf world had ever known."The ceremony is complete." The Elder closed the documents and looked at me and Ivy. "The two children will each choose a parent."In my past life, Ivy chose our mother first.I stayed with our father.For the next ten years, I fought thousands of battles in underground wolf pits for hi

My days at Ashford Pack were quiet.Every morning, the pack warriors ran patrol in wolf form, streaming through the territory in formation.I sat on the stone wall at the edge of the training ground and watched them pass.I'd sit there for the entire morning.I was the only young member of the pack who never shifted.Especially since Diane had announced to everyone on her very first day that I'd "shifted at fifteen with excellent combat talent."The whispers spread fast."The Alpha's new chosen mate brought a daughter—think she never awakened?""She might be an Omega.""Her mother said she had great fighting talent. Why won't she even train?"The warriors lowered their voices when they passed me, but werewolf hearing made that effort pointless. I caught every word.I didn't explain anything.Diane heard the talk too. Every time she walked by the training ground and saw me sitting on the wall, she shot me a look that could kill.That look was nothing new—disappointment laced with regret

I turned slowly to face him.Alaric looked at me. No accusation in his eyes, no pity. Just something I couldn't name—part confusion, part confirmation."You're fifteen. Your mother says you're a talented fighter. Your bloodline is Alpha-level."He paused."A wolf like that shouldn't be decaying like this."He didn't directly ask "why," but the question hung between us, heavy and unspoken.I gave a bitter smile."I've seen as many battles as you have."I glanced at the faint marks just visible beneath his sleeve."Probably worse."Alaric was silent for a few seconds.He didn't push.He just looked at me quietly and said: "How long are you planning to keep this up? Until your wolf collapses in the middle of the Pack House and everyone hears your wolf howling as it dies?"The silence after the truth stretched on for a long time.I didn't deny it. Didn't explain. Who was there to explain to? A dying person doesn't need sympathy.I just asked him calmly: "How did you get my bottle?""I can

The silence between us lasted a long time.I was the one who broke it."Two shifts. That's enough.""I thought I wouldn't even get one. Two is a bonus."Alaric looked at me.I smiled. Not a bitter one—a real one. The kind you get when you actually feel like you came out ahead.Something flickered across his face. Brief, barely there. It didn't look like an expression that belonged on an Alpha."You're a kid," he said."In my past life, by the end of the wolf pits, I'd forgotten how old I was." I leaned against the wall. "Remembering my own name was a win. At least this time I got some sunlight. That's enough."A guard's voice echoed from outside the Pack House.The border patrol had found someone outside the territory. Not a rogue invasion—someone had been dumped at the boundary marker.Alaric frowned and stood. I followed him out of the storage room.The patrol team carried the person in on a makeshift stretcher. A crowd gathered in the Pack House hall.I pushed through to the front a

My world was going dark, one day at a time.First, my sense of smell faded. I couldn't catch the familiar scent of decay on Alaric anymore, or the dry warmth of sunlight on wood.Even the sting of Wolfsbane disappeared—during injections, all I felt was the needle breaking skin.Then my vision. Faces became blurred patches of color. When Diane sat at my bedside, she was just a soft, warm shape.When Alaric read in the corner, he was just a dark outline.I told people apart by their voices.Diane stayed by my bed from dawn to dark. Every few minutes, she'd hold her hand under my nose to make sure I was still breathing. Then she'd pull back, relieved. A few minutes later, the hand would return.It shook every single time.The suffocating closeness of her presence was too much. Not that I wasn't grateful—I just needed quiet.One afternoon, I said: "Mom, could you go to the Moon Shrine and get me a moonstone? I want to hold one."Diane blinked."In my past life, the last time my wolf howled