All Chapters of The Cursed Alpha’s Only Mate: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Chapter Twenty TwoThird POVBeta Emrich walked beside Hecate through the torchlit corridors, his boots echoing against the stone floor. The castle was settling into the quiet rhythm of evening, servants hurrying to finish their tasks before nightfall, guards shifting at their posts. The healer moved with an easy grace, her black velvet cloak whispering against the flags."I confess I expected the king to be more frightening," Hecate said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "The stories they tell about him, the monster who tears men apart with his bare hands. One expects horns and smoke."Emrich laughed, a low respectful sound. "His reputation precedes him, but King Maddox is not the beast the bards sing about. Not entirely, at least." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "He has learned to control the curse better over the years. It still haunts him, but he no longer loses himself as he once did."Hecate nodded thoughtfully, her dark eyes scanning the walls, the tapestries, the fa

Chapter OneViolet POVWhen Alpha Christian and I were in bed, him kissing me and wanting me so much, I felt he truly loved me.He couldn't say he didn't love me while his eyes were full of desire for me, when his breath was heavy over mine, when his body swayed rhythmically above mine, his body tense with lust.He couldn't say he didn't love me, at least not at those times."We need this for the baby," he'd say, "Unless you're useless enough to let this pack end up in my generation."I knew he blamed me for not conceiving yet after three years as mates, I knew he'd never been satisfied with our marriage, that I wasn't the woman he planned to marry, but the Moon Goddess united us, and what She united was stronger than anything. It was eternal.My husband gasped heavily, reaching his climax and collapsing into my arms, spasms of pleasure coursing through his skin... and mine. I hugged his shoulders, my body melting with the heat. Christian might not love me, but I'd been crazy about hi

Chapter One Hundred TwoHecate POVThe castle was a whirlwind of activity, servants rushing through the corridors with armloads of silk and mountains of flowers. The great hall had been transformed overnight, the stone floors polished to a mirror shine, the banners replaced with fresh ones bearing the Emberclaw sigil intertwined with the midnight star of my adopted pack. Candles by the hundreds waited in their holders, ready to be lit at dawn.Tomorrow, I would marry Maddox.The thought should have filled me with joy. Part of me, the part that still remembered being Samantha, the girl who had believed in fairy tales and happy endings, was thrilled. But another part, the part that had been forged in betrayal and shaped by revenge, was wary. Tomorrow was not just a wedding. It was a performance. A declaration. A gambit in a game that was far from over.I stood in my chambers, staring at the gown that hung on the dress form in the corner. It was beautiful, I had to admit. Ysabella had ov

Chapter Ninety Three Emrich POV The tavern was dim and smoky, the kind of place where conversations were had in low voices and eyes never lingered too long on anyone. Emrich sat in the corner, his back to the wall, a half empty mug of ale before him. He had not wanted to come. He had better things to do than listen to the complaints of a woman who had already lost everything. But Odette had insisted. And Emrich, despite his better judgment, had agreed to meet her. She sat across from him, her hood pulled low over her face, her hands wrapped around a cup of wine. She looked thinner than she had at the festival, her cheekbones sharper, her eyes darker. The silver cane rested against the table, a reminder of what she had lost. "You came," she said. "You asked." Odette laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "I did not think you would. You have always been loyal to him. Even when he did not deserve it." Emrich said nothing. He took a sip of his ale and waited. "I want justice," Odette s

Chapter Ninety Three Emrich POV The tavern was dim and smoky, the kind of place where conversations were had in low voices and eyes never lingered too long on anyone. Emrich sat in the corner, his back to the wall, a half empty mug of ale before him. He had not wanted to come. He had better things to do than listen to the complaints of a woman who had already lost everything. But Odette had insisted. And Emrich, despite his better judgment, had agreed to meet her. She sat across from him, her hood pulled low over her face, her hands wrapped around a cup of wine. She looked thinner than she had at the festival, her cheekbones sharper, her eyes darker. The silver cane rested against the table, a reminder of what she had lost. "You came," she said. "You asked." Odette laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "I did not think you would. You have always been loyal to him. Even when he did not deserve it." Emrich said nothing. He took a sip of his ale and waited. "I want justice,"