The Alpha Who Killed My Family Is My Mate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

The wind died down in the hollow and I didn't have to wait for him to look up. Magnus didn't jump. He didn't reach for a weapon, and he didn't call to the guards who were supposed to be watching the ridge. He simply turned his head toward the rock outcropping where we stood. He was already looking at me. He had been looking the whole time.There was no dramatic reveal. He was exactly what he looked like from fifty feet away.“You’re late, Lyra,” he said. His voice was flat, carrying easily through the cold air.Donovan tensed beside me, his fingers twitching on his knife hilt. Behind us, Rowan’s breath caught, a tiny, sharp intake of air that told me everything I needed to know about his sudden lack of courage. He was already shifting his weight back, looking for a tree to put between himself and the man in the coat.I walked down the slope. The shale slid under my boots, a dry, rattling sound that filled the ravine. I didn't try to hide my approach. I didn't try to look strong. I wa

Magnus lay in the dirt, but he wasn't finished.He spat a mouthful of blood on the ground. His nose was broken, split down the middle by the edge of the spade, and his breathing sounded like water bubbling in a pipe. But his eyes were still clear. He reached out with his left hand, his fingers clawing through the dirt, searching for the heavy iron key he had dropped.I didn't let him touch it.I stepped on his wrist. I brought the heel of my boot down with everything I had. The bone in his arm snapped. Magnus let out a sharp, grunting hiss through his broken teeth, his head jerking back but he still didn't scream.He looked up at me. His face was a mask of red, his left eye already swelling shut.“You’re still nothing but.... a dog,” he wheezed. The words were wet. “A cultivated beast. You think... this changes the anything ?”“It changes everything,” I said.Beside me, Kael was trying to drag himself up. He was clutching his side, his fingers sinking into the torn, bloody shirt. He w

Nobody moved.The body of Magnus lay still on the dirt, his chest empty of breath, his eyes staring blankly at the dark winter sky. The silence that followed his death was absolute, pressing down on the ravine like a frozen hand.I stood over him, my lungs burning from the cold air. My hands were coated in dark, sticky blood that was already starting to dry and turn stiff in the cold. My knuckles ached. Kael sat nearby against a pile of broken stones, his face pale, his fingers dug hard into his torn shirt to hold his bleeding side together. Rowan stood ten feet away under a branch of a hemlock tree, his boots caked in dirt, his eyes darting between Magnus and me.Behind us, the three surviving wolves did not move. They did not howl. They did not sigh with relief. They just stared at the dead man, then at Kael, and finally at me. Their faces were blank, frozen in the deep, numbing shock that comes after weeks of doing nothing but running, fighting, and trying to stay alive on raw inst

I kicked his cabin door open, the heavy wood slamming against the log wall with a loud bang that shook the timber.Kael did not jump. He did not reach for the hunting blade lying on the table beside his water bowl. He sat on the edge of his narrow cot, his shirt off, his hands resting flat on his knees. A thick white bandage was wrapped tight around his ribs, but a dark stain was already spreading across the cloth, turning it red near his left side. His left cheek was swollen, a dark purple bruise running from his temple down to his jaw where the stones had caught him. He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot, the golden light completely gone from his gaze.The cabin smelled of old wood, sweat, and the tallow candle burning on the shelf. There was no one else in the room. The silence between us was cold, a straight line of tension that had been stretching since we left the ravine.“You’re bleeding through the cloth,” I said, walking to the table.“It will stop,” Kael said. His voice was

“Listen to me,” Kael said, his voice cutting through the freezing air of the courtyard.The pack had gathered in the central space of the settlement, standing in small, tight circles under the darkening sky. There was no fire to warm them. Nobody was carrying torches, and nobody was whispering in the corners. They stood with their arms crossed, their faces pale and hard, their heavy winter coats pulled tight against the wind. It was not a celebration of Magnus’s death. It was a gathering of survivors who had spent the last three days staring at their empty tables and the fresh dirt graves on the ridge.Kael stood in the middle of the dirt circle. He did not climb onto the wooden platform by the well. He did not stand with his chest out, his chin high, or his fists clenched to show his dominance. His left side was still stiff under his coat, his breathing shallow and slow to keep his cracked ribs from shifting. He looked at the old men, the women, the children, and the three hunters wh