All Chapters of Desiring My Plus-Sized Omega Rival: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Freya AshwolfMy paws itch to tear something apart, but I smooth down the velvet edges of my haze-blue dress instead. The fabric glimmers like star-dusted frost against my dark skin, clinging to my waist before flaring out to hide the lingering stiff bandage around my right shoulder blade. Even with the bone fully re-set by our pack shamans, my wolf whines beneath my ribs, sensing the bitter truth: I am an Omega with a fractured shoulder, an outcast who cannot draw a moon-harp bow without my joint catching in agony.I step through the arched black-stone gates of the Blood Moon Gardens amphitheater, inhaling the heavy scents of pine resin, roasting elk meat, and the thick, suffocating musk of high-born Alphas milling around the courtyard. I pull my dark fur shawl tighter over my bare collarbones, ignoring the dismissive snarls of passing warriors.I climb the winding obsidian staircase up to the secondary tier, searching for my designated seat. When I reach the private loge overlooking

Freya Ashwolf"No," Lucien’s voice cuts through the chill night air like a heavy steel blade, his hand locking around Caelan’s wrist with brutal force.Caelan thrashes violently against his father's grip, his small claws extending, digging into Lucien’s polished leather sleeve. His golden pup irises glow with pure fury as he glares up at the Alpha towering over him. "I want to chase after Freya, Daddy! Let me go! May I please go?""No," Lucien repeats, his sharp, dark features turning to stone. The bone-chilling tone reverberates through his broad chest, demanding immediate pack obedience.Caelan loses his temper completely. He snaps his head back to glare at the dictator blocking his path, his chest heaving with silent, stubborn snarls. "You're a meanie, Daddy! You'll allow me to look at Miss Freya from the gallery, but won't let me say hi to her!"It is absolute agony. Lucien is deliberately bullying him, keeping the soft lavender scent of Freya Ashwolf tantalizingly out of his reac

Freya Ashwolf"High Lord Lucien, I am sorry to interrupt your grand tactical analysis, but maybe you aren't aware of this—spoiling a crystal-projection is a shameful act, let alone inside a public theater," I growl through gritted teeth, keeping my voice down so the surrounding wolves don't turn around.He lets out a low, smooth chuckle at my frustration, the rumble vibrating against his broad chest. What on earth is so funny about it? It is completely normal to just go along with the plot while watching a story, so I shouldn't be blamed just because my mind doesn't calculate every single strategic detail in forty minutes! Besides, blurting out the traitor ruins the entire mystery!Caelan lets out a soft, adorable giggle from my lap. "Miss Freya, don't worry. You can ask me if you don't understand anything."I bury my face in my hands. I have had enough of these two! Don't they know that the whole point of watching a crystal-projection is that it doesn't require us to use our brains l

I stare at the polished obsidian desk, my wolf clawing restlessly behind my ribs. High Lord Octavian Nightbane does not simply visit the Crimson Dominion Tower to check on pack operations. He arrives like a thunderhead, heavy with ancient intent and cold command.“She is an Omega, Lucien,” High Lord Octavian says, his voice like grinding millstones. He shoves a fan of silver-embossed portraits across the dark wood toward me. “The Ashwolf bloodline is weak, stripped of rank, and worthless to our territory. Look at these. I have chosen true Alpha bloodlines from the highest houses in Nightfall Haven. Pick one. You need a Luna to seal the Crimson Hollow Dominion, and young Caelan needs a proper maternal alpha to guide his instincts.”I do not touch the photos. My fingers remain motionless on the edge of the desk. Slowly, I reach up, lift my clear-lens glasses by the frame, and fold the temples closed, one side at a time. The glass is flawless, unprescribed, a frail illusion of harmless h

Freya Ashwolf. Omega. The lowest bloodline in the Ashwolf Pack, yet my senses flared as I stalked the perimeter of Nightfall Haven. I took a sharp breath, the scent of damp earth and blood-pine filling my lungs, my inner wolf pacing inside my ribs, restless and sharp. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my feet stayed rooted to the soil.High Lord Octavian Nightbane let out a low rumble, his golden eyes glittering in the dim light of the Nightbane Crimson Citadel as he watched his eldest grandson. "Elira Moonclaw has a sharp tongue, but she holds the respect of her elders. I do not feel an ounce of rage toward her."Lucien Nightbane stood silent, his massive shoulders squared, his posture radiating pure Alpha authority. Slowly, he reached up, taking off his clear-lens glasses—the ones he wore solely to appear harmless—and folded them closed, one temple at a time, the movement deliberate and deadly. The harmless facade was gone."Lucien, escort Elira back to the Moonclaw territor