All Chapters of Fated to the Black Sheep Alpha: Chapter 101 - Chapter 107

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it felt like a physical blow. "What?" I whispered, the word barely catching in my dry throat.Xavier’s jaw clenched, a low, murderous growl vibrating deep inside his chest. "Say that again, old man."Silas leaned back in his chair, staring up at the grand framed portrait hanging on the wall behind him—a painting of a beautiful, fierce woman with long snow-white hair and brilliant blue eyes. My grandmother."Thirty years ago, the North was dying," Silas began, his voice flat and heavy with ancient regret. "The Rogue Wars were tearing our borders apart. The Winslow pack was fighting three different fronts at once. We were running out of silver, running out of men, and running out of time. Your grandmother, Elena, realized we couldn't win the war alone.""So she went to Killian Vance," I said, the horrific pieces fitting together in my mind."She went to the elder Vance pack," Silas corrected quietly.

I had the paper in my trembling hands, and with it, my father’s whole goddamn empire was about to burn to the fucking ground.The rain beat a relentless, heavy rhythm against the rusted corrugated steel roof of Warehousing Dock 14. The air inside smelled like old salt, diesel, and wet metal. It was pitch black except for the weak, flickering amber light from a single battery-powered lantern sitting on a wooden crate ten feet away.I crouched behind a towering stack of rotting shipping pallets, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped beast. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely keep the smooth black paper of the shipping manifest flat across my knee.This was it. The concrete, undeniable proof."Look at that filthy, beautiful seal," I whispered to myself, my voice barely a thread in the dark.Right at the bottom of the ledger, stamped in heavy red wax, was the official crest of the Wright family house—a double-headed wolf clutc

"I spent twenty years thinking I was going to die in some dirty border war, Raine," Xavier whispered, his voice so low it was almost a purr against my skin. "I thought my life was just going to be blood, steel, and fighting my father's dirty battles until someone put a silver bullet through my brain. I never gave a fuck about what came after tomorrow.""And now?" I asked, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs."Now I want a tomorrow," he said simply, his hand sliding up my back, his long fingers tangling gently into the hair at the nape of my neck. "I want a house on the northern ridge where the rain doesn't smell like gunpowder. I want to wake up without a gun under my pillow. I want to see what you look like when you aren't covered in blood and frost."A sweet, heavy ache bloomed right in the center of my chest. It wasn't the cold, sharp white wolf power that usually ran through my blood; it was a deep, quiet warmth that made my han

Killian’s words hung in the damp night air like a bad smell, but before the rain could even wash his dark footprints off the driveway, Torin was fucking gone.He didn't just walk away. Xavier's brother had slipped back into the shadowy wreckage of the west wing while Marcus was securing the front steps, leaving nothing behind except a pool of dark blood on the velvet rug and his empty rifle sitting on the stone floor. We searched the entire estate until the sun started peeking over the pine trees, but there was no sign of him. He had vanished into the morning mist, driven away by a heavy cocktail of deep shame, absolute regret over how he let Twyla blind him, and the pure terror of what his father was going to do to him for pointing a gun at his jaw.By mid-afternoon, the grand estate smelled like burnt carpet, heavy pine cleaner, and copper blood.I was sitting on the edge of the large oak desk in Silas’s private study, wrapping a clean white bandage tightly around Xavier’s thigh. Th