All Chapters of The cursed Alpha’s Contract Bride : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

DrakeI sat in the living room of the mansion, my fingers tapping slowly against the armrest. Once. Twice. Again. The sound was soft-but steady. Controlled. Just like my breathing. Just like my expression. But beneath that control, something was shifting. Something I didn’t like.“Where are you, little mouse…” I muttered under my breath. The words barely left my lips, but they carried the weight of a death sentence.The room was silent. Then, footsteps. The door opened. The guards stepped in first, dragging the driver behind them. He looked worse than before. Blood stained his shirt. His nose was already broken, and his body trembled like he could barely hold himself together. Good. He should be afraid. He was thrown to the ground in front of me. Hard. A groan escaped him as he struggled to push himself up, but fear kept him low.I didn’t move immediately. I let the silence sit. Let it press. Let it suffocate.“I asked you to do one thing,” I said finally, my voice calm. Too calm. “Ju

AngelMy head hit the muddy ground hard. Pain exploded through my skull. For a moment, everything went blank. Then it rushed back all at once. Sharp. Heavy. Overwhelming. I groaned, my body curling slightly as I tried to breathe through it. Something warm trickled down the side of my face. Blood. My blood.I lifted my hand weakly, touching the side of my head. Wet. Everything around me spun. The walls of the pit, dark, damp, closing in. I tried to focus, blinking through the blur, forcing my eyes to adjust.“Help…” My voice came out broken. Barely there. “Please… help…” The words echoed weakly around me, swallowed almost instantly by the emptiness. No one was coming. I knew that. Still, I said it. Because there was nothing else to do.I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay conscious. My body felt heavy, like something was pulling me down, dragging me toward the darkness creeping at the edge of my vision. No. Not yet.“Angel… fight,” I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. “Don’t

DrakeSeeing Angel‘s blood at her mouth, something broke. Not slowly. Not quietly. Violently. My body moved before thought could catch up, before reason could anchor me, before control could even try to exist. Fast. Faster than I had moved in a long time.Something inside me snapped open. Something old. Something buried. Anxiety hit, not new, never new, but this was different. Stronger. Deeper. Unfamiliar. My chest tightened as a strange pressure built within me, rising from somewhere I could not reach, somewhere I had long lost or forgotten.My bones shifted. A sharp, grinding sensation thrummed beneath my skin. Not fully. Not enough to show. But enough to feel. Enough to know. My jaw clenched hard. A surge, not of power alone, but of something else. Memory. Fragments. Broken pieces forcing their way into my mind like they had every right to be there. Like they belonged.My head throbbed. My vision flickered, blurred at the edges. And beneath it all, one thing remained: clear, sharp,

AngelI’m falling. Air rushes past me, cold, sharp, biting into my skin. I hit the ground hard, the impact rattling my teeth. I am back in the mud of the pit. I try to stand, but the darkness here is heavy; it feels like wet wool pressing against my mouth. I hear a growl, a deep, ancient sound that vibrates in my chest. It is the sound of my own death coming back for a second chance.Beep. Beep.The sound is thin and metallic. It doesn’t belong in the mud. It flickers above me. For a heartbeat, the smell of damp earth vanishes, replaced by the sharp, clean sting of antiseptic. I feel a strange weight on my hand, something warm and solid.“Little mouse, Can you hear me?”The voice is a low rumble, distant, as if heard through deep water. It is Drake. I know it is him. I try to reach for the sound, but the mud in the pit begins to rise. It wraps around my ankles like cold, heavy chains. I try to shout, to tell him I am right here, but the darkness is thicker now. It fills my throat. It

DrakeI pressed the button. Hard. The red light flashed like a warning, and within seconds, the air was filled with the frantic sound of boots on tile. The doctors swarmed. They moved like a hive, voices low and urgent, checking the pulse at her throat, watching the monitors, whispering numbers I didn't care to memorize."Blood pressure is stabilizing.""Her lungs are clearing. Look at the rhythm."After what felt like an age, the lead doctor stepped away from the cluster of white coats. He wiped his brow and walked up to me, his gaze cautious.“She is fine, Mr Crane. Out of danger now,” he said, his voice finally steady. “The crisis has passed. What she needs now is rest. Deep, undisturbed rest.”I didn't answer him. I walked back to her bed and took her hand. It felt different, no longer like cold marble, but like living skin. She opened her eyes, just for a second. She looked at me, a long, silent gaze that held more weight than a thousand words, before her lids grew heavy and clos