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Chapter Thirteen
publish date:
2026-05-29 03:57:07
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The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-six
Phantom’s POV The conference room hums with fluorescent light, the buzz overhead mixing with the restless murmur of reporters. The air is thick with perfume, ink, and anticipation. Cameras flash like lightning, each burst ricocheting off the paneled walls, momentarily blinding. The microphones on the long table hiss and crackle, amplifying every cough, every shuffle of paper. I stand at the podium, no longer a prince answering to another’s crown—now king. Every word I speak carries the weight of my people, every silence is dissected. Calm is my armor, restraint my weapon. “King Phantom,” a voice cuts through the noise, sharp, insistent. “Can you confirm who your chosen mate is?” The air tightens. Reporters lean forward, pens poised, cameras ready to capture the moment. My heartbeat is steady, deliberate, a drum I refuse to let them hear. I let the silence stretch, savoring the tension. Then I allow a faint smile to curve my mouth. “The revelation will be made when it’s time.
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-five
I place a tray of Halo‑Halo on the table, the colors gleaming like jewels in glass. Another of my grandma’s recipes, perfected by Marja, who insists dessert is the glue that holds family together. The sweet chill of shaved ice and fruit seems almost ironic, considering the heat of the questions hanging in the air. “May we please get to the part of this evening where one of you explains who or what originally created werecreatures?” Anna asks, her tone impatient but curious, eyes flicking between us like she’s waiting for someone to finally spill the truth. “Once upon a time, there was a—” “No you don’t,” Shaw cuts in, interrupting me with a smirk. “This isn’t a fairy tale, so it shouldn’t be told as one. Which is why I’m telling her the story.” “And you think you can teach Anna about the history of werecreatures better than I can? You’ve been a werecreature all of what… five minutes? You know what, Shaw? Go ahead. Impress us with your epic storytelling skills.” I cross my arm
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-four
By late afternoon, I try calling Phantom. Once. Twice. Three times. Each ring stretches like a blade across silence, cutting deeper when no answer comes. My pulse thrums, uneven, tethered to a voice that refuses to break through. Shadows curl at the edges of my thoughts, whispering possibilities I don’t want to name. Breath catches in my throat, fragile, as if the air itself resists filling my lungs. I tell myself he’s busy, that Rome emergencies can’t wait. But the quiet on the other end feels heavier each moment I don’t hear from him. I toss my phone onto the bed, muttering, “Fine. Ignore me. I’ll just host a supernatural dinner party and not overthink about you.” The sarcasm doesn’t soothe the ache, but it makes me laugh, and laughter is better than panic. The sound echoes in the empty room, brittle but defiant, like I’m daring the silence to break. By evening, I overhear Shaw and Israfil bickering outside the mansion Phantom had the keys sent to me before he left. The note sai
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-three
Phantom’s kiss still tingles on my lips as I step out of the car, his gaze burning into my back until I vanish into the chaos of school. My pulse thrums, tethered to him even as lockers slam, sneakers squeak, and gossip ricochets down the hall. After last night, the noise feels cartoonish, like the world forgot how heavy everything feels when you’re caught between kingdoms and secrets. Shadows cling to the corners, whispering what I can’t say aloud. The classroom hums with chatter, voices overlapping like static. I spot Israfil and Anna, my pulse skipping, breath catching in my throat. “Seriously, people, I miss one day of school and all hell breaks loose?” I announce, referring to the witch‑made earthquake I heard rattled the halls while I played hooky. Apparently, that’s what tipped my mom off to my absence. I stride toward them, nerves buzzing under my skin. Training this summer was not only in another state but left me with little free time. Months have passed since I’ve se
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-two
The drive feels shorter than it should. Phantom’s hand rests near mine on the gearshift, steady, unyielding, as if promising it will be okay. My mother’s voice still echoes in my ear, agitated and disappointed, but his presence beside me tempers the dread. The stuffed coyote sits in the backseat, silent witness to the collision course we’re on. The house looms as we pull into the driveway. Porch light blazing, curtains drawn tight, the air heavy with expectation. Phantom kills the engine, leans back, and studies the front door like it’s a battlefield. His grin flickers, restrained but confident. "Ready?" he asks, voice low, magnetic, carrying that dangerous calm that makes my pulse thrum. I swallow, nerves tangling with the remnants of heat still clinging to my skin. "She might not like you right away." His eyes narrow, shadowed but steady. "She doesn’t have to. You do." 🐾👑🐾👑🐾 The door swings open before we knock. Mom stands framed in the light, arms crossed, ga
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Thirty-one
The rest of the morning unfolds without a hitch. No shadows of Rome, no ghosts of justice against Canum pressing against the walls. Just sunlight, bright and clean, spilling across the kitchen tiles as Phantom leans against the counter of his Airbnb rental, arms folded, watching me burn pancakes on the stovetop. "You’re terrible at this," he says, entertained, tone teasing yet amused. I flip the misshapen pancake onto a plate, grinning. "You’re welcome to try." He doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for the spatula. Just smirks, magnetic, as if the challenge itself is hilarious. "Happy to hire a chef. I don’t cook much. But I do excel at making commands." "Then command the syrup," I shoot back, tossing him the bottle. He catches it one‑handed, effortless, and for a moment the heaviness that haunted us in Rome dissolves into easy conversation and joy that feels too good to be true. His laugh is low, restrained, but it lingers in the air like music, filling the space with warmth.
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Twenty-one
During and after every training session, I hunt for Phantom, desperate for even the briefest glimpse. Pathetic, I know. His absence convinces me he’s either out of town or simply excels at avoiding me. By Wednesday morning, the ache of missing him gnaws so deep I’m certain I’m going berserk. He hau
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Nineteen
My phone buzzes, slicing through the quiet morning. Outside, cicadas drone in the Georgia heat, their rhythm pressing against the stillness. Al squints at the screen from her bunk bed, hair tangled from sleep. “Who’s calling you at seven in the morning?” Israfil’s name glows. My chest tightens. M
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Eighteen
My brain is supposed to be sharp, advanced—werecoyote instincts honed to perfection. But when it comes to matters of the heart, I’m just as foolish as any teenager. Proof? Edison’s clammy palms sliding across my back. “I know this is all for show, but I like you,” he murmurs, voice low, sticky w
The Alpha’s Forbidden Coyote Mate Chapter Seventeen
My stomach claws at itself, twisting, tearing. Acid scorches my throat; I retch into porcelain, praying for escape from my own body. The sound ricochets—metallic, hollow—like the palace itself is listening, every tile a witness to my collapse. Breath splinters, pulse hammering bone, desperate to br
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