The Alpha's Secret Heir: The Ward's Revenge のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Cora’s POV The scent of raw cedar and mountain rain used to be my sanctuary. For five years, it was the smell of safety—of secret midnight whispers and the only man I had ever truly loved.Today, it made me want to claw my own throat out.I stood at the back of the Great Hall, my fingers trembling as I tried to straighten a silk banner that refused to stay level. Around me, the Silver Moon Pack was a whirlwind of predatory energy. Shifters moved with that fluid, terrifying grace that always reminded me I didn’t belong here. They were celebrating; they were preparing for the coronation of Silas Vane, the man who was about to become their King, their Alpha.And I was just the human ward in the corner, trying not to vomit on his expensive mahogany floors.I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles white against the dark wood. Every time a shifter ran past, the gust of wind carried more of him to me—that heavy, intoxicating Alpha musk that usually made my heart race for all the ri

Cora’s POV The heavy brass handle of the clinic door was freezing against my palm, but it didn’t compare to the ice in my chest. I shoved my way inside, the door clicking shut with a finality that echoed through the dark, sterile hallway.The silence of the Medical Wing was suffocating. It smelled of antiseptic and power—the power of shifters who could heal in hours, while I was left to mend at a human pace. I reached the main examination room and finally, the dam broke.A sob, jagged and raw, tore out of my throat. I didn’t just cry; I shattered. I grabbed a tray of stainless steel instruments and swept them off the counter. They hit the floor with a deafening, metallic crash that sounded like a thousand bells tolling for my funeral.“A distraction!” I screamed at the empty walls, my voice cracking and ugly. “Five years! I was just a distraction?”I grabbed a stack of patient files—records of people who viewed me as a curiosity or a servant—and flung them into the air. I watch

Cora’s POVFive Years Later​The ballroom of the Oakhaven Grand Hotel was a sea of shimmering silk and sharp tuxedos, but my focus remained on the blueprints displayed on the digital screen behind me. For two years, this project—the Oakhaven Early Learning Center—had been my obsession. I had fought for every brick, petitioned every local council member, and worked late nights until my eyes burned.​In the human world, I wasn’t a servant or a charity case. I was Sarah Miller, the lead educator and project coordinator for the city’s most ambitious preschool development.​I smoothed the front of my charcoal-grey sheath dress, catching my reflection in the polished marble of a nearby pillar. I looked nothing like the girl who had fled the Silver Moon. The short, mousy-brown hair they had all known was gone; now, my hair flowed straight down my back, reaching my hips, dyed a fiery, sophisticated red. I had lost the soft curves of my youth to the lean, hard-won muscle of a woman who had spe

Cora’s POV The digital clock on my bedside table ticked toward six in the morning, the red numbers glowing like predatory eyes in the dark. I hadn’t slept. I had spent the last four hours staring at the ceiling, the fine silk of my gala dress replaced by a threadbare t-shirt, but the skin underneath still felt like it was crawling. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the heavy, suffocating heat of Silas Vane’s presence and heard the way he’d whispered my name. I had tried to sleep, but my mind was a loop of “what-ifs” and escape routes. Finally, giving up on the ghost of rest, I sat up and swung my legs off the bed, my feet hitting the cold floorboards.​I didn’t turn on the lights as I navigated the hallway toward the kitchen. I knew every inch of this sanctuary by heart. I knew which floorboard creaked and exactly where the peeling wallpaper by the kitchen table hid the small wall safe that held our forged lives together. My hands were shaking—not with the slight tremor of a woman

Cora’s POVSilas noticed me staring, his gaze dropping to my parted lips before returning to my eyes. "Something wrong, Sarah?" he asked, his voice an innocent, velvet purr that didn't match the predator in his gaze.I forced myself to blink, my hand tightening on the edge of the drafting table until my knuckles turned white. I couldn't let him see me shatter. "Cool contacts, Mr. Vane," I replied, my voice brittle and cold. "A bit theatrical for a construction site, don't you think?"Silas didn't reply. He didn't offer a lie about colored lenses or lighting. He simply let out a low, dark hum of amusement—a sound that vibrated through the floorboards and up into the soles of my feet—and leaned back, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his face.He didn't believe me for a second. He knew I was lying, and he seemed to find the lie delicious. He was looking at me not as a stranger, but as a puzzle he had already solved but wanted to watch put itself together. I wondered then if h