All Chapters of Fated to the Black Sheep Alpha: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

“What is happening? no, no, that is just a temporary glitch,” I muttered, my voice cracking with morning grit as I stared down at the glowing screen of my smartphone.The morning light was a dull, dirty grey, filtering weakly through the heavy velvet curtains of Torin’s bedroom. It was exactly five forty-five in the morning, an hour where the world should have been quiet, but my mind was a raging storm. The large room still smelled heavily of the sour whiskey Torin had spilled across the floor the night before, a suffocating scent that made the air feel thick and heavy. I sat up instantly in the center of the massive bed, my eyes bloodshot and burning from a complete lack of sleep. I had not slept a single wink the entire night, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs, driven forward by a pure, toxic anticipation of what was supposed to happen today. I reached out with a trembling hand, my long, sharp acrylic nails scratching loudly against the polished hardwood nightst

“Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, we have brought the absolute finest pieces from the southern fashion houses,” Madame Vivienne said, her palms clapping together with a sharp, frantic sound that echoed through the massive room.She clapped her hands again, her voice trembling as she bowed low toward the heavy velvet armchair where my grandfather sat. The sound was thin, cutting through the thick air of the Golden Salon. The massive room was bright, almost blindingly opulent, with huge gold framed mirrors lining the walls from the polished marble floor to the high ceiling. I stood on the center stage, my bare feet pressed against the soft surface of a triple tiered velvet podium. The air smelled heavily of expensive lavender polish and fresh white roses, but beneath those scents, I could feel the sharp, freezing smell of pure mountain frost. It was the signature aura of the Winslow royal line, and it was growing stronger in my chest with every passing second.Racks of hundreds of dre

“Again! Princess, stand up!” Marcus roared, his voice bouncing violently off the damp stone walls of the training pit. He lifted a heavy leather training glove, his chest heaving as he stared down at me. “The dirt in this pit does not care about your red silk dress or your grandfather’s crown! If you drop your weight like that on the ballroom floor, Killian Vance will snap your spine before you can even reach for your dagger!”I spat a mouthful of dark blood into the gray dust, slamming my palms against the ground. “I am up, Marcus, stop talking and move your feet, because you are giving me too much space.”I pushed myself up from the cold dirt with every ounce of strength left in my muscles. I had stripped down to a tight black tank top and heavy leather wraps on my hands. My skin was completely covered in gray sweat and grit from the floor, but I did not care about the mess.Marcus stepped forward immediately, his broad shoulders shifting as a low, deep growl vibrated in his chest.

“Stop checking the weight of that silver blade, Victoria,” my grandfather growled, his rough voice slicing through the heavy silence of the strategy room.I didn't drop the weapon. I kept my fingers wrapped tightly around the cold hilt, feeling the perfect balance of the steel against my palm. I let my thumb slide slowly over the honed edge, drawing a microscopic bead of blood before I let the blade rest against my thigh. “The steel will bite when it needs to, Silas.”“Look out into that fog right now,” my grandfather slammed his silver-headed cane against the stone floorboards, the sharp crack making the two military captains at the map table flinch. He pointed a thick, scarred finger toward the wide glass window. “Look at the way the ravens are circling the black pine trees along the ridge. They aren't waiting for a common border skirmish. They smell a total execution.”I turned my head, scanning the gray mist rolling down from the mountain peaks. The heavy frost was already swallow

“Look at them out there,” Silas growled, his large hands gripping the stone balustrade until the ancient rock creaked. He gestured toward the courtyard below, where pack members scrambled frantically across the gravel. “Stringing up silver lanterns, polishing carriage rails, acting like ants before a catastrophic flood. They think they are preparing for a festival of kings. They have no idea the wolves coming to sit at our tables are carrying meat cleavers behind their velvet cloaks.”I stepped up beside him, my knuckles turning stark white against the freezing rail. “They are doing what they have to do to survive, Silas. Just like I did for five brutal years under the Wright family's roof. The only difference is these Omegas aren’t being hunted or broken every single time an Alpha has a bad day.”Silas turned his massive head, his scarred brow furrowing deeply as his red Alpha eyes locked onto my face with terrifying intensity. “That is exactly what trips up every single intelligence