All Chapters of Fated to my Alpha nemesis : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

MICHAELA'S POV Mason just stares at Damon for a moment. Speechless. The sight is so strange I almost don't recognize it. Mason is never still. Ever. Yet somehow he's standing there looking completely frozen. "Damon?" he repeats. "You're getting repetitive." Nothing happens. Then suddenly Mason crosses the room in three strides. I expect a punch. Or a hug. Possibly both. I'm not sure. All I know is that I expect a very Mason reaction and Mason does not disappoint. He grabs Damon's face with both hands. Damon immediately looks offended. "What are you doing?" "Checking." "For what?" "I don't know." Mason squints. "Maybe you're a ghost." Damon removes Mason's hands from his face. "I'm not a ghost." "That sounds exactly like something a ghost would say." "Mason." "I'm just being thorough." For the first time since barging into the room, something in Mason's face loosens. Relief. Gone so quickly it would have easily been missed. "Don't tell me you still belie

COLE'S POV I glance over my shoulder to find Sandy seated by the side of the room. I could tell her gaze had been trained on me the entire time. She doesn’t say a word though. She’d already done enough of that before we arrived. She had made her position on my idea very clear. She didn’t like that I was meeting with my uncle. She didn’t like that I was so intent on finding a way around Mia doing the trials when Mia would probably see it as me undermining her ability to survive them. She didn’t like that I was trying to find a way to pull Mia out of the pack house and out of her deal when, again, Mia seemed to have accepted it. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Mia couldn’t handle herself. It was just that I knew very well the kind of minds that populated the council. They weren’t above brutality when they believed their cause was righteous. And honestly, I didn’t care what Sandy did or didn’t like. Unfortunately, Sandy had never been one to stay quiet about her opinions. Especia

MICHAELA'S POVI've been on edge the entire day, but I can't pinpoint why exactly.I don't even bother changing out of the sweat-dampened clothes I wore during training. Instead, I head straight to the kitchen.I spend the next few hours chatting with Georgia and playing Scrabble with Coby before finally giving up on delaying the inevitable.I heas upstairs toward Damon's study with a thousand words already waiting at the tip of my tongue.When he sees me, he slowly sets his phone down on the desk and shifts his attention to me.Good.“Why are you avoiding me, Carylon?”Damon doesn't try to deny it.In fact, he doesn't say anything at all.Then—“Michaela.”“No,” I say, my annoyance already boiling over.One brow lifts.“No?”“No,” I repeat, pointing a finger at him. “You don't get to do that.”“Do what?”“That thing where you say my name like it's a complete answer.”For a moment, Damon looks as though he's about to respond.Then he thinks better of it.I fold my arms and glare at hi

MICHAELA'S POV For Goddess' sake, why the fuck was I crying? This wasn't the time for an emotional breakdown. If anything, this was the time to get angry. To make a plan. To prepare myself. To do literally anything other than whatever the hell I was doing. Yet here I was. After Soorayah delivered the news about the trials with smugness written all over her face, I didn't even remember leaving the study. One moment, I was standing there. The next, I was twisting the door handle. Walking into the hallway. Putting distance between myself and that room. Between myself and the words that kept echoing inside my head. Two days. Two days. Two days. The number follows me down the corridor like a curse. It was happening. The trials were actually happening. And I wasn't entirely sure what I was feeling. Fear? Anger? Frustration? Determination? All of it tangled together into something too large to properly understand. Too large to process. I didn't even know where I was

DAMON'S POV. “I’ll drive you?” I offer the moment she tells me what she intends to do. I try my best not to comment on her puffy eyes, tear streaked cheeks, the way she'd left the study earlier like the world was falling apart and she was at its center. Or the fact that she'd asked for some more tear drop suppressants when she got back. I knew Michaela enough to know that pushing wouldn't get me anywhere with her, it'll only make her push back seven times harder. She looks up at me for a second. Then another, contemplating. “Okay.” She says finally. I sighed, relieved. For a second there I thought she wasn't going to let me be there for her at a moment where she'd obviously need someone by her side. “I'm coming too,” Cole says, stepping into the study and coming to a stop behind her. My gaze shifts towards him as he enters. “Naturally,” I reply, not at all surprised. For a fraction of a second, something sharp flashes through me. It's not anger. Not surprise. Just the u