《The Cursed Alpha’s Only Mate》全部章節：第 161 章 - 第 170 章

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,"

Chapter Eleven Third POV In the dim office, lit only by a lone desk lamp, Christian drums his fingers against the desk while Healer Melvin stands pale yet resolute and Beta Marcus watches in silence. The thought of Violet carrying his child and fleeing with his heir claws at his mind. Yet the reports before him clash, one denying the pregnancy, the other confirming it, leaving him restless and torn. Melvin spread his hands wide, his voice earnest. "Alpha, I have served this pack for three decades. My reputation speaks for itself. I do not make mistakes about something as significant as a pregnancy. The Madam is with child. I performed the examination myself." Marcus shifted uncomfortably. "Then how do you explain the second report? It came from your own hospital, Healer. With your signature on it." Melvin's jaw tightened. "I don't know how to explain this, but I can guarantee that your wife is indeed pregnant, Alpha.." Christian leaned back in his chair, studying the healer's f

Hecate POV The morning light was pale and cold, filtering through the narrow windows of the castle's lower level. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and distant woodsmoke, the kind of morning that felt like a fresh start even when the weight of the past pressed heavy on your shoulders. Hecate stood in the courtyard, her arms wrapped around Tori, holding her close for what might be the last time. Tori's body was warm against hers, familiar and solid, a reminder of all the years they had spent together. The years of hiding, of running, of surviving. The years when they had been each other's only comfort, only ally, only family. The years when the world had been against them, and they had clung to each other like the last two leaves on a dying tree. Hecate had treated Tori's wounds herself, applying salves and bandages to the raw marks on her wrists where the ropes had bitten. She had healed the cuts on her ankles, the bruises on her shoulders, the deep ache in her heart

Chapter One Hundred Thirteen Hecate POV The morning light was pale and cold, filtering through the narrow windows of the castle's lower level. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and distant woodsmoke, the kind of morning that felt like a fresh start even when the weight of the past pressed heavy on your shoulders. Hecate stood in the courtyard, her arms wrapped around Tori, holding her close for what might be the last time. Tori's body was warm against hers, familiar and solid, a reminder of all the years they had spent together. The years of hiding, of running, of surviving. The years when they had been each other's only comfort, only ally, only family. The years when the world had been against them, and they had clung to each other like the last two leaves on a dying tree. Hecate had treated Tori's wounds herself, applying salves and bandages to the raw marks on her wrists where the ropes had bitten. She had healed the cuts on her ankles, the bruises on her shoulders,

Elsie POV The tavern was hidden at the southern edge of the village, far from the main roads, far from prying eyes. Its sign hung crookedly above the door, the paint faded, the name unreadable. Elsie had never been to this part of town before. She had never needed to. Her life had been spent in the cold corridors of the Midnight Pack's manor, in the gardens that bloomed grey and thorny, in the shadow of her mother's ambitions. But tonight, she followed Hecate through the narrow streets, her hood pulled low, her heart pounding in her chest like a caged bird. The cobblestones were uneven beneath her boots, and the scent of ale and smoke drifted from the buildings they passed. Men called out from doorways, their voices rough with drink, but no one looked twice at three women hurrying through the darkness. Nyra walked beside her, silent and watchful, her grey gown blending into the shadows. Her red hair was hidden beneath a dark hood, and her pale eyes swept the street with the practic