All Chapters of To Marry a Monster: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

“You really think you can just walk into the Afolayan territory and dictate who bloodlines with who, Ronan?”I gripped the handlebars of my phantom-black combat cycle, my wolf pacing aggressively beneath my skin as the digital display flickered to life. The engine thrummed, a low, predatory growl that mirrored the tension vibrating through the entire perimeter of the Moonveil Grand Hall.Lucien Afolayan sat back in his customized, matte-black armored transport chair, his dark eyes reflecting the neon lights of the modern underbelly of the city. Even stripped of the ability to use his legs, the raw Alpha pressure radiating from him forced every low-ranking enforcer in the vicinity to keep their eyes glued to the pavement.“The Afolayan Dominion doesn’t negotiate with rogue syndicates, Ronan,” Lucien said, his voice a smooth, lethal baritone that cut through the heavy exhaust fumes. “If you’re here to breach the peace treaty during a sacred bloodline binding, you’d better have brought a

“My maternal uncle and his mate also have a bloodline heir, a male currently stationed across the sea handling the international smuggling docks,” Lucien noted, swirling the amber liquid in his crystal glass without breaking eye contact with the hostile wolves across the stone table.I held my breath, my wolf shifting uncomfortably under my skin as I stood up to show tactical respect to the secondary commanders of the Afolayan Dominion. Seth and Julie didn't even twitch. Julie merely raised her porcelain teacup, her eyes raking over my tactical dress suit with an icy, calculated disdain that made the hair on my arms stand up.Realizing that any further attempt at formal pack greetings would just be met with silent aggression, I lowered myself back into my seat, keeping my spine completely straight and my hands resting flat on the table near my concealed blades.Seth tapped the digital face of his encrypted comm-device, his voice cutting through the tension like a silver blade. “The pr

"Your tactical manipulation needs refinement if you expect to survive the inner sanctum, Chika," Lucien stated, his large hands maneuvering the wheels of his matte-black transport chair with effortless grace as the door clicked shut behind the defeated Vale heir. He looked up at me through dark, analytical lashes, his jaw set in a hard line. "You let Seraphina dominate the verbal grid before you threw her out. I expected a higher tier of aggression from a Whitmore vanguard coordinator."I rubbed the back of my neck, my leather gloves scraping against my jaw line as I felt the hot sting of embarrassment under my collar. "I didn't anticipate the modern nobility acting like feral street scavengers in a formal sector, Lucien. The blatant disregard for our binding took my beast by surprise. But the data has been processed. I will not be caught off guard during the next rotation.""The tactical tea briefing with the dominion Lunas is scheduled for the glass pavilion within the hour," Lucien

The rhythm from your war drums is cutting through the tactical link perfectly, Chika," Driscoll remarked, leaning his massive frame against the doorpost of my training barracks as the final triplet cadence echoed off the reinforced steel walls. "The precision in your strokes is going to send a clear message to the other cartels during the summit broadcast." He turned his scarred face toward the desk, noting Lucien swirling his black tea. Lucien remained silent for a long beat before shifting his amber eyes to his master-at-arms. "What specific operational maneuvers have been logged at the Patriarch's fortress since our extraction yesterday, Driscoll?"Driscoll’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping into a low, grave register. "A massive structural conflict, Alpha Vanguard. Your parents launched a formal protest with Patriarch Enzo, but the old warlord refused to alter the grid. He dictated that either your house or Bryce's squad must absorb the Vale bloodline's maritime assets through a

"The deal is sealed, Senior Enforcer. The Afolayan Dominion’s enforcers just tracked the signal," Malik Arden’s voice cracked through my burner phone, sharp and laced with static. "I’ll notify Chika Whitmore the second his assignment concludes.""Do that. And tell him his Alpha expects a clean extraction," Lucien Afolayan’s deep, gravelly voice echoed from the other end, freezing the air in the private lounge. "If a single drop of Whitmore blood is spilled tonight in this syndicate territory, the truce with the Blackwell Pack is void."I stared at the screen as the line went dead, my claws scratching against the mahogany bar. Around the table, the elite hitmen of our crew raised their glasses, faces flushed from silver-laced whiskey."A toast to our True Alpha, Elder Solomon Reed!" our vanguard captain bellowed, raising his glass high. "He cleared the smuggling routes through the Silverfang Ceremony Chamber. The bloodlines are secure!""We wouldn't have this territory if the Blackfiel