Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bite Me Harder, Alpha: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

The lodge feels like total shit in the daylight. I think whatever lives in these walls doesn’t even need the dark to hide anymore. The kitchen is already packed when I step in, and the shift is instant. Eleven wolves, give or take, and every single one of them turns to look at me like I’m some failed experiment that just wandered into the wrong room. Which, honestly, I am. I pause to take stock: faces, posture, who’s curious, and who wants me dead. I keep moving. Hesitation is data, and I’m not giving these assholes anything. Coffee first. Always. I reach for a mug. “Wow,” someone says, breaking the silence like she’s bored as hell. “This is aggressively uncomfortable.” I glance over. She drops into the chair beside me without asking, all sharp angles and easy confidence. “Cora,” she says, offering a hand. “I’ve decided you’re interesting.” “Sienna,” I mutter, shaking it. “I know. You’re the human.” She leans in, lowering her voice just enough to pretend it’s a secret. “The

Elara drops it like she’s reading a fucking weather app. Sienna is still in my arms. She is not peaceful. She is still too heavy. Her chest barely moves. Each breath is a sad little wheeze, like air scraping through a broken straw. Her skin has gone the colour of old dishwater. Grey. It is wrong. “Help her.” It rips out of me, more growl than words. My voice doesn’t sound like mine. Sounds like something cornered and bleeding. Elara doesn’t flinch. Just watches my hand pressed to Sienna’s side like she’s grading me. “I told you she was different,” she says, quiet, almost gentle. “Didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to trigger it.” “TRIGGER WHAT? FUCKING HELP HER!” I’m already moving. Kicking the infirmary doors so hard the metal frame screeches and buckles. Sienna’s head lolls against my shoulder. Her heartbeat under my fingers is fading like a bad reception. I drop her on the steel table. My hands won’t let go. Fingers digging into her as if I loosen even a millimetre, she’ll

What the… I touch my face, and my fingertips come away black. The stain spreads like ink under my skin-alive, dark, and hungry, creeping up my cheeks and claiming territory that doesn't belong to it anymore. The sterile hospital room narrows into a buzzing white tunnel. My pulse hammers so hard I can hear it in my ears. "Your eyes will settle," my father says. He stands by the window with his back half-turned, staring at the wall instead of looking at me. His voice sounds rehearsed and flat, like he is reading from a script he hates. I know that tone too well. He is lying. "They're not going to settle," I croak. My throat feels raw, like I've spent hours screaming. The door clicks open. Marcus walks in-Savannah's fiancé, the man who has always watched me like a fascinating specimen under glass. Today he smells wrong: bleach, copper, and old blood. His smile is tight, professional, and completely fake. "Sienna. Good to see you awake." "F**k off." Marcus goes still. "That shoul

I wake in Kieran’s bed, his scent wraps around me.The sheets feel too soft against my skin. My body hums with unfamiliar power.Black veins still trace faint lines along my forearms, but they no longer spread. They settle.I push upright. Kieran sits in the chair beside the bed, elbows on his knees, watching me.“You’re awake,” he says, voice rough.“How long?” I ask.“A few hours since you got here.” He stands slowly. “You jumped from the third floor. Clawed Marcus across the face. Then dropped into my arms like your body finally gave out.”The memories hit sharp and fast—needle in my arm, fire in my veins, talons sliding out with a wet click. I flex my fingers. They look normal now. Almost.I swing my legs over the edge and stand. The room steadies faster than it should. Power thrums under my skin, waiting.“What am I now?” The question comes out steadier than I feel.Kieran steps closer. “The bite I gave you m

The second Kieran walks through the study door, I know something’s wrong.Her handwriting keeps catching me off guard. Sometimes I swear I can almost hear her voice in them, and it makes my chest hurt in a way I don’t know how to name.He doesn’t smell angry. That’s what scares me more than anything.“Tell me about your dreams,” he says. No hello. No “how are you.”I set the pen down slowly, trying not to let my hand shake. “What dreams?”“The ones where someone was watching you.” His eyes are doing that thing again, like he’s fighting to keep it contained. “The ones you thought were hallucinations. Tell me everything.”My stomach flips over, ugly and complicated.I push myself up off the floor. “I thought they were… I don’t know. I have been sedated for weeks, I don’t know what kind of test…I have a dream about f*