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Home / Werewolf / Fated to my Alpha nemesis / Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

All Chapters of Fated to my Alpha nemesis : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

210 Chapters

A horn

MICHAELA’S POV The moment we reach the end of the aisle and step into the center of the arena, the noise hits me from every direction.Loud.A constant roar of voices bouncing off stone.Hundreds of conversations blending into one overwhelming wave of sound.And just as overwhelming are the eyes.Hundreds of them.Fixed directly on me.Now that I'm standing here, it is impossible to ignore just how many people have gathered for this.I slowly turn in a circle, taking in the arena in its entirety as my pulse quickens.From the entrance, I had thought the place looked large.From the center, it feels enormous.Stone terraces rise in wide circles around the arena floor.Not completely full.Large gaps remain between sections of spectators, a lingering precaution from the plague protocols introduced months ago.Even so, the turnout is staggering.Entire families occupy the terraces.Warriors stand along the upper levels.Several healers in white uniforms are stationed throughout the aren

The Red Luna

MICHAELA'S POVRepresenting the currently absent Alpha, Mason delivers the opening speech, which, I suppose, is to be expected of him as Beta.Still, nothing prepares me for the sight of it.Mason.Being serious.Truly serious.Not a joke in sight.It is, quite frankly, unsettling.He welcomes the pack members, the council, and the representatives from neighboring territories before offering a formal apology for the Alpha's absence due to health-related circumstances.Despite myself, a snort escapes me before I can stop it.I'm grateful the massive screens are currently focused entirely on Mason and his speech.The whole thing sounds rehearsed.Professional.Responsible.I barely recognize him in that moment.Mason continues speaking as though he hasn't spent his entire life making terrible jokes at every available opportunity and inappropriate moment.Murmurs ripple through the arena at the mention of Damon.Some attendees look disappointed.Others concerned.Others openly suspicious

Moonshade

MICHAELA'S POV There are three ways to survive a disaster. The first is preparation. The second is luck. The third is denial. Personally, I have always preferred denial. Not because it works. It absolutely does not. But there is something comforting about convincing yourself that a terrible thing isn't happening while it is actively happening. Take today, for example. Thousands of werewolves and humans are staring at me. Representatives from neighboring territories are staring at me. The council is staring at me. The giant screens are staring at me. Somewhere out there, there is probably a boy staring at me. A girl. A mother. A father. All of them trying to predict my fate. All of them calculating the odds of this human embarrassing herself in a spectacular fashion. And despite all available evidence to the contrary, a small part of my brain still insists that if I simply avoid making eye contact with anyone for long enough, the Luna Trials might

Silver curse

MICHAELA'S POV The Moonshade Root earned its name because it grows only where moonlight reaches the forest floor. The people of ancient times believed the Moon Goddess hid the first Moonshade Root within the Northern Wilds as a gift for those willing to brave the darkness. The vampires called it the Silver Curse because of its extreme toxicity to their species. During the era of the united territory of Lyvros, Moonshade Roots had been far more accessible than they are now. It seemed the people of Lyvros possessed a far greater understanding of the Northern Wilds. Or maybe they had simply been braver than the wolves of this age and were therefore willing to venture into the wilderness to retrieve the rare plant. Whatever the reason, Moonshade had been one of the factors that helped tip the scales in favor of the werewolves during the Crimson War. Rubbing my temples with my thumb and forefinger, I close the book and lean my head back against the wall of the study. It is

Escort

MICHAELA'S POV "You can't do this." The words settle heavily between us as I stare at Cole. Partly because of what he said. Mostly because of how he said it. Cole isn't shouting. He isn't pacing. Somehow that makes it worse. His voice is quiet. Steady. And absolutely terrified. A muscle jumps in his jaw. "You can't do this," he repeats. "Cole..." "No." He cuts me off. His hands fall to his sides as he takes a step back. "This isn't a trial, Mia." The words come out sharper this time. He turns, pushing a hand through his tousled hair. "This isn't fair," he mutters under his breath. "I know," I say quietly, looking away from his profile and the devastation written across it. The room falls silent. Even Rhoda doesn't argue. Doesn't say a word. Cole shakes his head as his gaze returns to me. Willing me to understand. Willing me to see his fear. "An Alpha wouldn't venture into the Northern Wilds alone." My stomach tightens. "Entire s

All I have

COLE'S POV I lie there on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Unmoving. Unblinking. I don't move. I don't sleep. I don't even try. I have absolutely no idea what to do. And it's already been hours. My jaw aches from how tightly I've been clenching it. Every time I think about Mia disappearing into those trees, the anger comes rushing back. Hot, sharp and relentless. Goddess. She wouldn't listen. I knew she wouldn't. I had known it long before she turned away from me. Long before I was forced to stand there and watch her walk into the forest while I did absolutely nothing. I could tell from the determined set of her jaw. The hardness in her eyes. The rigid line of her shoulders. Once Mia made up her mind, changing it was like trying to stop a river with your bare hands. She was going after that damned plant. And the moment I saw that look on her face, I knew I wasn't going to be able to convince her otherwise. She has always been stubborn. I

Where to begin

COLE'S POV The realization settles leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Back then, I gave in. I took Damon and the chief healer to the lab so they could look through Mia's research. Nothing more. At least, that's what I'd told myself. We'd agreed not to tell her. Not to open old wounds. The moment Damon stepped through those doors, something changed. I noticed it immediately. Not because he said anything. He didn't. Not at first. But his eyes moved across the room differently than I'd expected. Slowly. Carefully. As though he was taking everything in. The journals stacked along the shelves. The scattered notes. The countless records. Years of Mia's life laid bare for anyone willing to look closely enough. And Damon looked. I hated that he looked. Hated that he was seeing pieces of her that most people never would. Her determination. Her grief. The things she'd buried inside that place. The things she'd never say aloud. Yet what unsettled me most was what had

The bodies

DAMON'S POV I had lied. I have absolutely no arrangements for this. But I can't tell Rhoda that the roar in my head is getting louder than before. That the darkness clouding my mind is growing thicker. Heavier. Almost unbearable. I can't burden her with any more of it. Not again. She has already done enough. Ever since Mother died, Rhoda has taken it upon herself to help me through every crisis. Together, we have managed this curse as carefully as we could, hiding everything from Father for years. Because Rhoda always has a plan. She always knows how to suppress and subdue me when the cravings come. How to keep me from becoming something worse. Rhoda and I have always been a team. Which is why her betrayal cuts so deeply. The memory still burns. The fact that she told Soorayah things I shared with her in confidence. Things she knew were meant to remain secret. Things I never expected her to tell anyone. Especially not Soorayah. It leaves me w

Broken images

DAMON POV I stood before his desk trying not to tremble. Unsure how to reply. Mother had helped clean me up in her room while the tears never ceased from her eyes. I was clean now. Perfect now. No one could see the blood on my hands, I reminded myself but still my hands kept shaking. I push them behind my back immediately. Father's gaze remains on me. His expression still unreadable. “Where were you last night?” he repeats. I didn't know. I really didn't. But I wasn't sure how to tell him that. He wouldn't like that answer. At all. But my answer wouldn't be entirely true. I did remember a few details of what happened the last night. Fragments of memory had haunted me all morning. Brief flashes. Broken images. Enough to fill me with dread. Not enough to explain how I had woken up in that unknown place. What I had done. Who those people were. And not for the first time, I wonder, how does he know? He's never been one to care for tucking Rhoda and I into bed. I wa

Translations

MICHAELA'S POV The first thing I learned about the Northern Wilds was that silence could be loud. Very loud. Especially when every story you've ever heard about a place insists you're going to meet your end in it. I've been walking for approximately two hours, and I'm still not entirely sure how I'm supposed to find anything. One thing I am sure of, though, is that the Wilds aren't what they're supposed to be. I've been trekking through dense undergrowth for what feels like forever, yet the forest remains eerily silent. No birds. No insects. No distant rustling. Nothing. The silence is exactly the same as it had been when I first crossed the border. I try not to dwell on it, but the quiet is slowly eroding my composure. Apart from the trees and endless greenery, there seems to be no other form of life anywhere. Maybe I'm just rattled. Maybe that's why everything feels wrong. Because even though I'd woken up this morning knowing the day would be difficult, I hadn't exp

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