Home / Werewolf / I Faked Being a Boy, Now the Alpha is my Mate / Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

Lahat ng Kabanata ng I Faked Being a Boy, Now the Alpha is my Mate: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

118 Kabanata

Forty One

AUTHOR'S POV.Jordan slammed his apartment door shut. The confined space of his living room pressed inward, making the drywall feel like the bars of a cage. The memory of his hands wrapping around Victoria’s throat played on a loop behind his eyes. He remembered the genuine fear warping her pristine features when she crossed the line. *Do you prefer to fuck dudes?* Her accusation burrowed deep into his skull, unearthing the panicked insecurity he spent weeks trying to bury. His wolf paced in the back of his mind, demanding release, howling for the boy with the amber eyes. Jordan could not breathe.He stripped his winter jacket from his shoulders and tossed the garment onto the floor. He walked back out the front door, hitting the paved street at a dead sprint.He reached the tree line of the pack woods, plunging into the dark timber without slowing his pace. The midnight air carried a freezing chill that felt like swallowing jagged glass. He pushed his human body beyond normal limit

Forty Two

JORDANHeavy rain hammered the reinforced windshield of my armored SUV, smearing the blurred neon lights of the Western Pack slums into long streaks of electric blue and harsh red. I sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the leather steering wheel with white knuckles while the vehicle idled in a dark, flooded alleyway. Three separate vehicles carrying my elite personal guard idled in formation right behind me, their engines humming a low, steady rhythm against the torrential downpour. I pressed the speakerphone button on the dashboard console, waiting for the secure connection to bridge the gap between my vehicle and the central tech hub back in the Southern Pack territory."I managed to fix the cooling fan on the secondary server unit, but I had to salvage parts from a broken microwave to make the wiring hold together," Cael complained through the static-laced speakers, his voice carrying the rough, gravelly edge of a man who lived on synthetic energy drinks and zero sleep. "The ambien

Forty Three

JORDANI vaulted over the broken windowsill, my boots slamming onto the slick metal grating of the fire escape. Silas was moving with frantic, desperate speed, leaping down entire flights of stairs and ignoring the structural groans of the rusting metal. The rain made the narrow platforms treacherous. I holstered my weapon, realizing a stray bullet in this dense residential block would cause a massacre, and I needed the historian alive to break the encryption on Amberly Lynne's location.Silas reached the bottom of the fire escape, dropping fifteen feet into a narrow, flooded alleyway. I jumped the railing, falling through the freezing rain and landing in a deep puddle of murky water. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain shooting up my shins, but the burning adrenaline pumping through my veins masked the discomfort.The chase transformed into a brutal, breathless sprint through the darkest veins of the Western slums. Silas tore through a chain-link fence, using his claws to rip the m

Forty Four

AUTHOR’S POVMorning dew clung to the immaculate, perfectly manicured grass of the Northern Pack's premier golf resort. The crisp autumn air carried the scent of wet pine and blooming mountain heather. Victoria Ashford stood near the edge of the fifth green, holding a sleek titanium driver. A hundred yards away on the adjacent fairway, her father walked alongside a high-ranking Northern dignitary, their distant, booming laughter carrying across the quiet course. Their presence served as a constant, heavy reminder that Victoria’s every move, even during a casual morning round, remained under strict political surveillance.Her mother, Eleanor Ashford, stepped up to the wooden tee marker. She wore a pristine white visor and a tailored navy athletic skirt, completely unbothered by the chilly temperature."I believe I pushed Jordan entirely too far in the stadium bleachers," Victoria confessed quietly, keeping her voice low so it would not travel across the open grass. She pulled a wooden

Forty Five

EMBERLYMy heavy textbook sat open on the small library desk, its dense pages detailing mid-century European pack economics. The bright screen of my laptop illuminated my tired face in the quiet study room. Just then, my encrypted burner phone suddenly vibrated violently against the wood, a harsh, metallic rattle that sent an immediate shockwave of adrenaline directly through my nervous system. I stared at the screen. The caller ID displayed an unknown string of numbers.Only two people in Junylria possessed this specific contact code.I hit the green button and pressed the plastic shell against my ear, my chest tightening beneath the restrictive binder. "Hello?""Good morning, Emberly," Beta Ronan spoke smoothly over the line, his voice thick with a fake, casual politeness that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. "It is a beautifully clear morning outside today, isn't it? I noticed the campus quad is entirely empty. Are you currently enjoying a quiet period in y

Forty Six

EMBERLYThe deadbolts on the cottage door clicked shut, sealing me inside the suffocating darkness of my living room. I did not even make it all the way down the narrow hallway before the biological punishment hit my nervous system. The lingering, suppressed fragments of my Heat flared up with a vicious, unyielding intensity, striking my bloodstream like a match dropped directly into a pool of gasoline. My skin burned with an unnatural, consuming fever that made the heavy fabric of my oversized hoodie feel like it was actively melting into my pores. My muscles ached with a deep, throbbing soreness, and my primal wolf clawed violently at the inside of my skull, actively punishing me for running away from my fated mate in the freezing arena. The magnetic pull of the mate bond demanded Jordan Draven’s physical presence with a raw, agonizing desperation that completely overrode my rational human mind.I stumbled blindly into my dark bedroom, my knees buckling as I collapsed heavily onto

Forty Seven

JORDANThe oppressive, suffocating heat of five hundred pureblood werewolves packing into the grand ballroom of the central estate created a physical wall of thick, unbreathable air that smelled heavily of expensive designer colognes masking the sharp, metallic tang of raw predatory dominance. Hundreds of massive crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting a blinding, fractured light over the opulent decorations and the endless sea of wealthy Alphas who traveled from across the country to parade their aristocratic children around the room. The entire event functioned as an incredibly expensive, high-profile meat market disguised as a diplomatic gala, designed specifically to spark powerful fated mate bonds or secure high-value political alliances between the ruling families. I was sitting near the front of the massive room at a lavish VIP table draped in heavy black velvet, shifting my broad shoulders uncomfortably against the restrictive, tailored fabric of my expen

Forty Eight

JORDANThe heavy, suffocating smell of stale whiskey, expensive perfume, and dried sweat hung thickly in the stagnant air of the VIP residential suite when I finally opened my eyes. Sunlight sliced through the gap in the heavy blackout curtains, stabbing directly into my retinas and aggravating the dull, throbbing headache pounding behind my temples. Beta Ronan pushed the heavy wooden door open without bothering to knock, his massive combat boots stepping over the shredded remnants of emerald silk and crimson fabric littered across the plush carpet.Ronan checked the time on his heavy steel tactical watch, looking down at the massive king-sized mattress where the tall blonde and the sharp-jawed brunette remained tangled in the white sheets beside me. "The hotel administration is going to charge an absolute fortune to replace this ruined carpeting, Jordan," Ronan started the conversation, his voice laced with a casual, dry amusement as he surveyed the absolute destruction of the room

Forty Nine

AUTHOR’S POV.The heavy, armored tires of the Packhouse transport vehicle hummed a low, monotonous rhythm against the wet asphalt as Jordan rode in the spacious back seat, his mind still numb from the tedious diplomatic maneuvering of the Tri-Pack treaty. The sudden, violent vibration of his encrypted cell phone against his thigh shattered the tense silence of the cabin. A frantic text message flashed across the illuminated screen from an unsaved number, followed immediately by an incoming call.Jordan tapped the green icon and pressed the cold device to his ear, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "Speak.""Jordan, he is going to kill me," Emberly’s voice cracked over the speaker, her rapid, shallow breaths echoing the sound of someone currently drowning in a full-blown panic attack. "Beta Ronan just called me on an encrypted line. He told me that if I do not deliver actionable intelligence regarding your hidden activities by tomorrow night, he is going to personally unplug Grandma

Fifty

AUTHOR’S POV.The tinted windows of Victoria Ashford’s sleek, silver sports car provided the perfect, undetectable vantage point from her parking space alongside the sprawling university quad. She leaned back against the plush leather seat, her manicured fingers tapping a slow, calculated rhythm against the steering wheel as she watched the morning crowd of students filter past the brick buildings. Her piercing blue eyes were not scanning for simple collegiate drama; they were locked directly onto Jordan Draven and the scrawny academic supervisor walking toward the central science hall.Victoria was not acting out of petty, romantic jealousy. She was a politically groomed daughter of the Northern Council, and she was currently analyzing a highly volatile, active threat to her future throne. She watched the subtle, terrifying shifts in their body language. Following the violent altercation in the stadium bleachers and the subsequent, aggressive hockey scrimmage, Emberly’s posture ar

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