All Chapters of Kill Me Alpha, Before I Do (Beast Of Flames Book 1): Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Romy povThe rusty taste of Caleb’s blood was still thick on my tongue, drying into a metallic crust that made every swallow drag against the back of my throat.The basement air had grown even colder since he left, the dampness rising from the river mud, turning my bare knees numb where they pressed against the floorboards. I twisted my wrists within the zinc loops, the metal links rattling against the iron radiator with a dull clink that seemed to bounce off the low brick ceiling. My skin was raw under the bindings, the constant friction leaving red tracks that stung whenever water leaked down the pipe. I could hear the faint, rhythmic ticking of a generator from the main floor of the timber mill above, its vibrations traveling down the timber beams to shake the loose dust into my hair. Every muscle in my back felt knotted and stiff from being pinned to the iron wall, but I kept my heels dug into the muck, searching for any loose bolt in the masonry. The heavy iron latch on th

Romy's POVThe entire basement shook.Dust and old mortar rained from the ceiling as something heavy crashed into the mill above us. The radiator pipes rattled against the brick wall behind me, and beyond the ceiling came the unmistakable roar of a truck engine pushed far past what it was built to handle.Rowan, I knew it before I even heard the shouting upstairs.Caleb's head snapped toward the ceiling, his attention finally torn off me, and another impact rolled through the building.That was all the distraction I needed. I pulled my left thumb hard into my palm and threw my weight forward. Pain exploded through my hand as the joint slipped out of place, and my vision blurred for a second, but it gave me enough room to drag my hand through the rusted loop at my wrist. Metal scraped my knuckles raw as I tore free, and warm blood ran down my hand.Caleb turned back too late. I snatched the rolled map off the crate where Caleb had left it and shoved it into the front of my shirt before

Rowan's POVThe truck's wheels groaned as we crossed into the Stormveil courtyard, the heavy titanium gates slamming shut behind us. The cab was thick with old grease, engine heat, and the metallic tang of dried blood clinging to Romy's torn dress.My hand was still locked around hers, fingers resting against her uninjured wrist while she stared straight ahead through the cracked windshield, jaw set in a hard line. She hadn't loosened her grip on Caleb's stolen server maps once during the whole drive back from the gully road– her knuckles white where the rolled paper dug into her palm.I killed the ignition. Silence rushed into the space between us, broken only by the engine ticking as it cooled. I turned in my seat and cupped her chin, drawing her gaze away from the dark window. Her skin was ice-cold, pale enough that the bruises under her eyes looked like open wounds in the dashboard light.“We're inside the perimeter, Romy,” I said, keeping my voice low. “The guards are on the wall

Romy's POV The cedar wardrobe doors creaked slightly when I pulled them open with my right hand, my eyes moving over the rows of dark leather tunics and heavy trousers that filled most of my side. A few dresses and silk outfits had somehow found their way between them over the last few months, mostly because Rowan kept insisting that I needed clothes that were not designed for hiding knives.My left hand still throbbed beneath the wooden splint Maddox had tied around my thumb the night before, but the pain had settled enough that I could ignore it when I wanted to. I reached for a simple black wool shirt that would sit comfortably over the bandage and still allow me to strap my ceramic blade beneath the sleeve.“Leave the boring clothes alone, Romy.” Rowan's voice came from behind me, making me pause before I could reach the fabric.I turned and found him leaning against the doorway of the dressing room, alre

RomyThe vault had never felt so small.The stone walls that had protected generations of Stormveil leaders now seemed to close around us, trapping the weight of thirteen years of unanswered questions inside the cold air. The smell of old parchment, iron, and the faint copper scent of preserved records filled my lungs as Aaron kept his finger pressed against the ancient Hunter codex.I stared at the pages in front of me.For most of my life, the night my family died existed only as pieces–a flash of orange light through the nursery window, and the sound of wood collapsing somewhere above me, my sister’s hands shaking as she covered my mouth before I could scream.I had spent thirteen years trying to put those pieces together. I had convinced myself that there had been a reason. A war. A territory dispute. A power struggle between families that ended with my family's blood spilled on the ground. But the pages sitting in front of me made everything worse, because there was nothing simp