All Chapters of Bite Me Harder, Alpha: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Savannah is in a horrible place. It’s not the kind of place you walk through easily.The flickering lights make her bruises look worse than they are—dark purple along her jaw, the cut on her lip still leaking. They’ve got her chained to a heavy steel chair like she’s some kind of wild animal, the metal digging into her wrists hard enough to leave raw marks.But she’s still smirking. Same damn smirk she gave me when we were kids, right before she stole something of mine just to piss me off.Now she tilts her head, blood-dried hair sticking to her face, and grins at me like this is funny. Her voice sounds wrecked, like she’s been screaming for hours. “Well, well,” she rasps. “Look who finally showed up. Daddy’s favorite.”I don’t react. I’ve practiced this too many times to mess up now.Elara moves before I can. She gets right in Savannah’s face, grabs her jaw hard enough to make it pop, and yanks her head back. “Talk,” Elara says, voice quiet but sharp as a knife, “when I say you can.”

The war room door clicks shut behind the last elder, but the silence that follows feels louder than any howl. My hand stays pressed to the slight swell of my belly, where the pup flutters again—like a tiny heartbeat reminding me that everything has just become infinitely more fragile and infinitely more worth fighting for.Kieran’s arm stayed around my waist tightly. He’s already working out exits and reinforcements and how to get me someplace safe before the next shoe drops.I am not ready to let him.“Elara,” I say quietly, the name tasting bitter. “She’s the one who’s been feeding information to Darius. Isn’t she?”No one answers right away. Rowena’s jaw tightens, her golden eyes flicking toward the door as if she can still smell the healer’s lingering bergamot-and-guilt scent. Maddox shifts his weight, looking like he wants to punch something. Cora’s usual smirk is gone, replaced by something colder.Kieran’s fingers flex on my hip. “We don’t have proof yet,” he says, voice low an

I stand at the edge of the circle, Kali beside me, her shoulder warm against mine. Her green cloak throws her silver hair into sharp relief against the darkness. I chose black and silver. Nobody questioned it.Kieran steps into the circle first.He’s always drawn attention without trying. But right now, watching him wait for Sienna, he looks like his father. Callum used to stand like that before pack meetings—shoulders back, chin up, like he already knew what needed to be done and was just waiting for everyone else to catch up.The resemblance catches me off guard.Sienna walks toward him wearing a simple white dress. She wears a simple white dress, one hand resting on her belly where my grandchild grows.Just her, one hand on her belly where my grandchild grows, hair loose and tangled with white flowers someone—probably Tabitha—insisted on.I can see the tension in her shoulders from here.Good. She understands the weight of what she’s doing.When they take each other’s hands, the pac

The smell hits me before the gate comes into view. Underneath it is the sharp chemical burn of architect blood. Darius has been busy.Maddox stands at the gate with Ryker beside him.Neither looks pleased.The sky above is still dark, stars fading at the edges. Dawn’s maybe an hour away.“He’s been waiting twenty minutes,” Maddox says as I approach. “Won’t cross the wards. Won’t leave either.”Darius stands just outside the silver-lined boundary, immaculate as always despite the corpse at his feet. He’s dressed like he’s heading to a black-tie function—expensive coat, no visible weapons, not a hair out of place. The only thing ruining the picture is the severed head at his feet.The architect’s skull is partially crushed. Black blood has dried across the stone.“You’re making a mess,” I call out, not bothering with preamble. Darius doesn’t respect courtesy.“Quite the opposite.” He looks up with that ageless smile that makes my skin crawl. “I’m cleaning up. Preventing messes. Thoughtf

The underground armory smells of old stone, crushed rowan berries, and cold iron. Torchlight flickers across the walls, throwing shadows that twist and crawl. My skin prickles with the familiar buzz before battle. Owen paces beneath my ribs, restless and eager, claws scraping at the cage of my control.I stand shirtless in the center of the ritual circle, muscles tight, jaw locked. This is the oldest rite the Revenant Pack still honors—marking the Alpha before he walks into battle. Tonight we end the Architects’ reach on our land, or I don’t come back.Rowena moves first. My mother’s face is set hard, her golden eyes like winter light. She is no longer the woman who cooked for the pack three nights ago. She is Luna now, and she carries centuries in her hands. Beside her, Kali—my aunt I mourned for ten years—grinds more herbs into a bowl, her fingers stained deep purple.“Steady,” Rowena commands, her voice low and resonant with Alpha power.She dips her fingers into the bowl of oil—wo