All Chapters of PREGNANT FOR THE ALPHA I NEVER MET : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

ROY’S POVThe cheering from the sacred grove was deafening, a sickening roar of validation that made the blood boil beneath my skin. I stood near the edge of the tree line, my hands shoved deep into my pockets, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Every single wolf in this territory was falling over themselves to celebrate the 'sacred union,' completely blind to the fact that Braham was handing our entire heritage over to a woman whose family name was dragged through the mud on a global scale.They thought the fight was over just because her Spanish grandfather had pulled a legal stunt in the press. They thought the throne was sealed.They had no idea that Vivian and I were about to flip the board entirely.The plan was ironclad. Vivian had spent weeks mapping out the old tunnels, securing duplicate keys to the subterranean vaults beneath the packhouse, and bribing two low-level sentries to turn a blind eye to our equipment. We weren't going to fight Braham out in the open—that w

VICENTE’S POVThe silence in the sacred grove was no longer peaceful; it was the suffocating, heavy quiet that precedes an execution. The crisp morning air carried the sharp, bitter stench of exposed treason, bleeding out from the center of the stone circle where Vivian and her six disgraced minions lay pinned against the damp grass.Braham stood beside my granddaughter, his chest expanded, his alpha pressure radiating outward in massive, suffocating waves that forced the weaker wolves in the perimeter to drop their eyes. Millie stood tall at his side, the raw, fresh mating marks on her neck serving as a stark, undeniable declaration of her ascension. The throne was sealed, and the fools on the ground were staring into the jaws of the empire they had tried to steal.Roy stood a few paces back from his sister, his arms held firmly by two of Braham’s largest elite sentinels. Even cornered, with his sister weeping in the dirt and the confiscated silver weapons piled like trash at the Hig

MILLIE’S POVThe heavy iron doors of the packhouse vaults closed with a distant, echoing thud, swallowing the final, desperate curses of Roy and the cold, furious silence of Pius. The sentinels had moved with absolute, military precision, bundling the entire treasonous family up together like common criminals and casting them down into the deep, silver-lined dungeons while the remnants of the event finally wrapped up.Braham stood beside me, his large hand still locked in mine, the tight tension that had lived in his broad shoulders for months completely vanishing. He let out a low, dark chuckle, leaning down to brush his lips against my temple."I told you," he murmured, his voice a rich, satisfied rumble that vibrated straight through our bond. "Nobody is allowed to be evil or cause chaos on my big day. Anyone who tries gets a personal escort to the cells."A genuine, breathless laugh escaped my lips, the lingering adrenaline from the courtroom drama melting into the warm, crisp mo

CALLIE’S POV The drive to the specialized medical facility was a blur of screeching tires and suffocating silence. The moment Millie confronted us with Braham’s phone in her hand, the walls of the fortress crumbled. There was no more hiding the truth, no more shielding her from the fallout. When the heavy glass doors of the intensive care wing slid open, the clinical scent of antiseptic and ozone hit us like a physical blow. But it wasn't the machines that dominated the hallway; it was the sound. Silas was crumpled on the linoleum floor outside Martha’s private room, his knees brought up to his chest as he wailed uncontrollably. It was a raw, animalistic sound of absolute devastation—the sound of a man completely broken by the weight of his own conscience. His hands were buried in his hair, tugging at the roots as thick tears tracked through the dirt and exhaustion on his face. The moment he saw Millie round the corner, flanked by Braham, Renan, and me, his chest heaved with a fres

MILLIE’S POV The heavy timbered doors of the massive packhouse closed behind us, shutting out the relentless glare of the human world and the predatory murmurs of the pack territory. The air inside the grand living room was warm, filled with the deep amber glow of the stone hearth, but a profound, reverent silence hung over the space. Gabriel had already taken Leo over to Renan’s parents’ place for the evening. We needed him shielded from the thick, suffocating cloud of grief that had settled over us at the hospital. I sat in the center of the large leather sofa, my body tucked securely against Braham’s solid chest. His strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder as his thumb traced soothing circles against my palm, his alpha presence a steady anchor through our bond. On the opposite side of the room, my grandfather, Vicente, stood near the mantle, his dark eyes solemn and watchful, surrounded by Elena and his remaining Silverpine Ridge companions.