Fated to my Alpha nemesis 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 21 - 챕터 30

Before the pack guards can find us and drag us to Goddess knows where, I get Talia out of the house. We don’t use the front door. That'd be foolish. I keep to the back corridors, listening for boots, for voices, for the scrape of authority moving through the house. Talia clings to my hand, silent now, but trembling. We slip through the rear entrance and cut across the neighboring yard. I don’t stop until Cole’s house comes into view. He isn’t home. Of course he isn’t. I know where he keeps the spare key. My hands shake as I retrieve the key from where he hides it, tucked beneath the loose stone beside the steps. I shove the door open and pull Talia inside. Safe. For now. I sit Talia on the couch. “Tell me exactly what happened,” I say. Her voice breaks halfway through. She has to start over twice. I let her. I need every detail. When she’s finished, her eyes are swollen and red, but she’s breathing more steadily. “You’ll be okay here,” I tell her. “Lock the door behin

He sees my fist coming. I know he does. He doesn't move. My fist connects with his jaw. His head jerks sideways, but he doesn’t flinch beyond the motion of the hit or retaliate. Just watches me, calm, almost too calm. I strike again, harder this time. A blow to the chest. He rocks backward, but still no counter. And again. My knuckles sting, my shoulders scream. I’m a storm of fury, fueled by rage and grief. “You. Lied. To. Me.” I punctuate each word with a strike. By the fourth hit, he catches my fist with one hand. His grip is like iron, halting my momentum. I twist, trying to throw an elbow, but he pivots, body coiled, eyes sharp. “You said you would keep it a secret.” I lunge, knees low, feet moving fast. He sidesteps a jab, but I can see it—his right side pulls slightly, a fraction of hesitation. I don’t dwell. I exploit it. I sweep low, aiming for his ribs. He shifts weight to his left, grunting. I follow, spinning into a knee strike. His forearm blocks, but my e

The trial chamber is a massive room carved into the lower level of the pack house.Not a dungeon. Not a prison.Something worse.I have been here once before. Years ago. When a man was tried for sneaking his human slave to one of the distant human settlements without permission. He claimed he was setting her free.He was charged with unlawful removal of pack property and unauthorized transport of a human asset beyond pack jurisdiction.He was made an example of.I remember the sound of his mate screaming when the verdict was delivered.This room does not forget.The trial chamber is deliberate.Stone walls curve in a perfect half-circle around a raised platform where the Alpha sits, a throne carved into shadowed stone. The floor is polished slate, dark enough to reflect shadows but not faces. Torches burn along the walls—not because the room needs light, but because tradition demands fire witness judgment.Six council members sit in a crescent beneath the Alpha’s dais. Silent. Severe.

At dawn the next day, they carry out the execution in the execution hall. I watch Dad's body crumple against the floor. Lifeless. A choked sound escapes from my lips. Not quite a sob. Not far from one either. A lone tear streams down my cheeks. I let it fall. Silence swallows the hall whole. It presses against my ears until everything feels distant, muffled, unreal. The air smells faintly of iron and dust. No one speaks to me. No one looks at me. Dust swirls in the empty space the moment they leave, drifting lazily through the pale morning light as if nothing monumental had just happened. Dad is gone. Just like that. No thunder. No breaking sky. No last-minute miracle. Gone. ***** I’ve regretted, every day for the past three weeks, not burying my stolen dagger into Damon’s back when I had the chance. The memory plays on a loop in my head, sharp and merciless. Every single time, my chest tightens until it feels difficult to breathe. Me standing there, t

TWO YEARS LATER The news spreads the way rot always does. Quietly at first. Whispers in gatherings. Doctors moving more frequently through the Pack House. Guards tightening patrols. Meetings held behind closed doors between the ruling families. The Alpha is ill. Not wounded. Not temporarily weakened. Ill. The same word they used for Rafe. The same word they used for Cole’s parents. Mutation instability. Cellular degradation. The wolf plague. I hear it before it is publicly announced. Patterns have a way of reaching me. I’ve been watching the Pack House. Within weeks, the truth becomes impossible to hide. The Alpha has not been seen in months. Messages are delivered through intermediaries. Orders signed but never spoken. The Eastern Pack is beginning to fracture at the edges. A leader unseen is a leader questioned. And vulnerable packs attract attention. From the Council. From rivals. That is when the second rumor begins. Cole tells me after