Lahat ng Kabanata ng Reborn to the Alpha’s Obsession: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

​Thalia's POV ​I shut the door to my private office with a soft, deliberate click. The room was vast, filled with the scent of old parchment and the heavy weight of dark oak furniture. ​On my desk, I had laid out the documents. Defense maps of the castle. Patrol routes. The food supply logs. Everything looked authentic. Everything looked secretive. ​Everything was a lie. ​I glanced at the clock on the wall. Sorela would be here any minute. She would come under the guise of cleaning, of doing her duty. But her true purpose was the paper on my desk. ​I walked toward the sofa in the corner, laid down, and closed my eyes. ​"I’m going to take a nap," I muttered to the empty room. "Don't disturb me unless it's urgent." ​I wasn't sleeping. I controlled my breathing, making it deep and rhythmic, turning my body into the picture of someone who had drifted into a dream. I listened. My senses, sharpened by the trauma of the mines, were dialed to the absolute maximum. ​One minute. ​Two m

Vance’s POV​The map.​The silk paper felt deceptive in my grip. Cool, slightly rough at the edges, and layered with the strategic markings I had obsessively studied for hours. I stared at it with a predatory hunger. This was the key—the golden ticket—to shattering Lysander’s black throne once and for all.​"Alpha," Kyle’s voice cut through the dim, oppressive silence of the war room. "The pack warriors are ready. They’re awaiting your command at the eastern gate. We strike the moment the night shift patrol grows complacent."​I lifted my chin, my eyes burning with the raw, unadulterated lust for power.​"Good," my voice dropped to a low, gravelly vibration, thick with anticipation. "Sorela has no idea she’s unlocking the gates of hell for her own master. She thinks she’s saving her pathetic family, but she’s nothing more than a sacrificial pawn for Lysander’s collapse."​I folded the map with agonizing precision and tucked it beneath my cloak.​The plan was perfect.​That arrogant Al

Thalia's POVThe black silk evening gown, intricately embroidered with patterns of spun gold, hugged my human body like a second skin. It was a gown designed for a queen, but tonight, it wrapped around a woman whose mind was entirely consumed by a cold, calculating plot for vengeance.​I stood motionless in front of the massive obsidian-framed mirror. The dark volcanic glass gleamed sharply under the flickering, dim candlelight of my private dressing room, casting back a reflection that felt entirely foreign to the girl I used to be.​There was no trace left of the weak, fragile Thalia. The naive girl from my first life—the one who had allowed her heart to be shattered and her body ruined by the treacherous daggers of Alpha Vance and Elena—was dead and buried.​Now, when I looked into my own eyes, they were as cold as absolute ice. They held a deep, swirling darkness that was far more potent than the pitch-black night stretching across the lands outside the castle walls.​"You look ab

Thalia's POV ​I lunged forward, my hand snatching the golden goblet out of the air a mere fraction of a second before Lysander could bring it to his lips. ​With a violent swing of my arm, I hurled the cup down the steps of the dais. ​Prang! ​The heavy goblet crashed against the marble floor, sending the golden tray flying from Sorela’s hands with a deafening, metallic clang. The deep red wine splattered violently across the polished stone. The moment the liquid exposed itself to the open air, it began to hiss and bubble furiously, releasing a thick, acrid plume of gray smoke that carried the pungent, burning stench of sulfur. ​The entire Grand Hall instantly fell into a dead, suffocating silence. ​The musicians playing the ancient instruments stopped abruptly, the notes cutting off with a harsh screech. Hundreds of Lycan nobles stood completely frozen in place, their eyes wide with absolute disbelief as they stared up at the royal dais. ​I stood tall and rigid in front of Lysan

Thalia's POV ​The liquefied silver mist, which had rapidly evaporated from the shattered vials hidden within the ventilation shafts, began to thoroughly saturate the air of the Grand Hall, completely paralyzing the Lycan warriors below. ​I stood on the interior balcony of the second floor, peering down at the absolute hellscape the Grand Hall had transformed into. Vance had not merely relied on a physical breach through the rear gates engineered by Kyle. ​The treacherous bastard had weaponized the castle's own structural design. Utilizing the internal moles within the Purity faction that Kyle had bought off, they had strategically installed volatile gas canisters directly into the primary air filtration systems. ​The thick, shimmering silver gas, carrying a suffocating odor of sulfur, spread with terrifying velocity across the lower level, twisting like a nest of metallic vipers around the massive obsidian pillars. ​"Ugh... my wolf core! It's burning!" ​"My throat... I can't bre