All Chapters of Too Late To Beg, Alpha: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

**Sera**The fire smelled like cedar shavings and dry straw.I didn't look back to see if the rafters were catching. I had kicked the rusted iron door of the stove open, grabbed the glowing hearth-tongs, and dragged three red-hot embers into the dry stuffing of my cot. The straw took instantly, crackling like dry bone before bursting into orange ribbons of heat.Smoke, black and thick with pine resin, rolled toward the roof beams.My hands shook so hard I could barely wrap my fingers around the iron poker. For ten years, I had stared at the lock on the attic door. The wood around the lower frame was rotten from rain leaking through the shingles every spring.I wedged the flat tip of the poker into the gap and threw my whole weight against it.My shoulder slammed into the rough timber. Pain shot down my arm, sharp and hot across the collapsed veins in my left wrist, but the rotten wood gave way with a screech of rusted nails.The door swung wide.I dropped the iron rod and ran.My bare

*Alpha Tyler*The smell of wet ash was ruining the roasted meats.I stood on the second-floor balcony of the Great Hall, leaning heavily against the carved oak railing. Down in the courtyard, twenty of my best pack warriors were scrambling like headless chickens, shoveling fresh snow over the soot-blackened slush. The fire that little wretch had started in the east wing had not brought the roof down, thank the heavens, but the black streaks running down the stone facade were plain as day."Move those wagons!" I barked down at the courtyard, letting my Alpha aura ripple through the cold air. "Stack the seasoned pine by the outer wall! If Lord Cassian smells burned straw before he tastes my mead, I will have the hide off every lazy sentry on duty!"The men jumped, doubling their pace.Behind me, the heavy wooden door swung open. Beatrice hurried out onto the balcony, pulling a thick beaver-fur stole tight around her throat. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but her lips were pressed into a

**Sera**The silver tray was so heavy my forearms burned before I even stepped past the pantry door.On it sat the ornate Riverfang tea service: a polished silver kettle steaming with boiling mint water, three fine porcelain cups painted with delicate blue forget-me-nots, and a small crystal bowl of honey. The porcelain rattled against the silver rim with every breath I took."Steady your hands, idiot," the head cook hissed from beside the hearth, shoving an embroidered linen cloth under my arm. "If you spill boiling water on the Duke, Tyler won't just skin you—he’ll hang the whole kitchen staff from the gateposts."Behind me, Kael reached out and pinched the back of my shoulder, hard enough to leave a bruise through the coarse wool."Remember what I said," he whispered into the crown of my head. "Eyes on the flagstones. Walk to the high table, set the tray down by the Duke’s right hand, pour until the cup is three-quarters full, and step backward into the alcove. Don't look at his fa

SeraThe tray fell from my numb fingers.The sound of the porcelain cups crashing against the stone floor was deafening in the silent hall. Hot tea splashed across my bare ankles, biting into the cracked skin, and the delicate painted saucers shattered into a dozen sharp shards that skidded across the dark marble.My balance was gone. The blood loss from the morning, the freezing air of the cellar, and the suffocating terror in my chest all rushed into my head at once. My knees completely gave out beneath the coarse gray wool of my dress.I didn't hit the stone.Before my cheek could strike the broken china, an arm like an iron band wrapped around my waist, hauling me upward with blinding, effortless speed.A large, leather-clad hand reached out and caught my left wrist—the raw, freshly punctured one.The moment his bare thumb brushed against my exposed flesh, the world exploded into white fire.It wasn't heat from the hearth, and it wasn't the burn of scalding water. It was an ancien

SeraThe heavy black bear-fur mantle fell over my trembling shoulders like a wall of living heat.Before my feet could touch the wet, tea-stained marble again, Cassian lifted me completely off the ground. He held me securely against his broad chest, tucking my bare legs beneath the thick wool folds of his cloak. My cheek pressed into the hard, cold iron plate covering his collarbone, but beneath the armor, the steady, rhythmic boom of his heartbeat was like thunder rolling over a quiet valley."Lord Cassian, wait!" Camilla called out, stepping toward the dais, her voice tight and high. "You cannot be serious! She is an omega runt! She tried to burn down the east wing this morning! She is feral, diseased—"Cassian did not pause. He did not even turn his head."If that female takes another step toward me," he commanded, his voice cutting through the hall like a winter wind, "Vane, take her tongue."Commander Vane took half a step forward, his gauntleted hand resting on the pommel of his