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One hundred and four
Last Updated:
2025-02-26 06:48:00
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Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and five
Edward: The garden was meant to be a surprise. A hidden sanctuary built just for her. I ran a hand along the smooth bark of an ash tree, inhaling the crisp scent of damp earth and the faint, lingering aroma of night-blooming jasmine. The air was fresh, cool from the recent rainfall, carrying a hint of petrichor that made the entire garden feel untouched and sacred. Lianna would have loved it. I had imagined showing it to her last night, watching her expression shift from curiosity to wonder as she took in the stone pathways, the soft lantern glow, the intricate carvings on the wooden benches I had designed myself. But instead, she had learned the truth—about Alistair’s death, about the heartbreak that I hadn’t wanted to burden her with. I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as I lowered onto the stone bench near the fountain. She had been furious with me. A true Luna through and through. Even when I would have preferred to take control, to handle everyt
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Lianna: I stormed into my chambers, slamming the door behind me. My hands trembled as I paced from one end of the room to the other, in my mind, an endless loop of that scene—Freya in Edward’s arms, her head buried in his chest like she belonged there replayed in my mind. My stomach twisted. It doesn’t matter. I told myself that over and over again. It meant nothing. Edward hadn’t initiated it. He wouldn’t— But why did I care? I clenched my jaw, running a hand through my hair. I feel nothing for him. That had been my truth for so long, my shield against the truth I was running from. Although he was kind to me, he was still the brother of my ex-husband and there was a contract binding our agreement. But the moment I saw Freya touching him, something inside me snapped. A knock sounded before Ingrid walked in, her presence familiar, grounding. The moment I saw her, the words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I saw Edward hugging Freya.” Ingrid rai
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and seven
Lianna: The corridors felt colder than usual and the ambient lights cast elongated shadows against the stone walls as I made my way back to my chambers. My boots echoed softly, the sound swallowed by the vast emptiness stretching ahead. I tried to push down the tightness in my chest, the dull ache that had settled there ever since Edward stormed off earlier today. I had made a mistake. I should have never suggested something so thoughtless—something that would push him away. But I had, and now, I was paying for it. I was so lost in thought that I nearly missed the figure leaning lazily against the stone archway ahead. Freya. The dim lighting cast an eerie glow over her face, sharpening the cruel amusement in her icy blue eyes. She tilted her head slightly, the movement almost feline, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. "Rough day, Your Highness?" she purred, voice dripping with false sweetness. I didn’t stop. I didn’t even acknowledge her.
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and eight
Lianna: I told myself I would do everything to win Edward’s forgiveness. I had to. I couldn’t let this stretch into another day, couldn’t let him stay mad at me—not like this. Not when the distance between us felt like a chasm I might never be able to cross. As I stood before the mirror, I smoothed my hands over the fabric of my gown, one Edward had always admired. Deep crimson, rich as the finest wine, with delicate gold embroidery tracing its edges like fire licking at the hem of a candle. The bodice hugged my figure, the off-the-shoulder sleeves leaving my collarbones exposed—the way he had always said he liked. I reached for my perfume, dabbing the fragrant oil along my wrists and neck, the scent of jasmine and bergamot wrapping around me like a familiar embrace. Ingrid watched from where she reclined on my chaise, one brow arched in amusement. “You do realize dressing up won’t magically make him forgive you, right?” I threw her a look. She wasn't helping matters r
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and nine
Lianna: The wind howled through the trees, a cold, merciless force that cut against my skin like the sharp edge of a blade. My cloak billowed behind me as my horse tore through the forest, hooves pounding against the damp earth in a relentless rhythm. The scent of pine and wet soil filled my lungs, but it did nothing to ground me. If felt rage burning through my veins like wildfire. Edward. My grip tightened around the reins, leather biting into my palms. The memory of his laughter at dinner clawed at my mind, an nagging image that refused to fade. The way his lips had curled into a slow, deliberate smile when he spoke to Freya. "That color suits you." I gritted my teeth. I wanted to fucking kill him. A laugh broke from my lips, sharp and bitter. No, I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t. This wasn’t about her. It wasn’t about the way he looked at her, or the way she fluttered her lashes as if she were some delicate fucking thing. It was about me. It was a
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Freya: I hadn’t expected things to go this smoothly. I had done nothing—absolutely nothing—but somehow, the pieces were falling right into place. Edward had gone from barely tolerating my presence to smiling at me. At first, I thought it was just an act, maybe a ploy to see if I had something to do with the outbreak, but no. His concern had been real. His gaze had softened, his voice had lost its usual edge. Anyone would call me delusional for thinking Edward would ever look at his brother's wife or stray away from that bitch, Lianna. The way he looked at me now... it was different. Maybe even better than the way he looked at Lianna. Anyone else might call me delusional, but I had watched him all day. I had seen the way he ignored her, the way his attention lingered on me just a little longer than necessary. And Lianna? Oh, the way it had messed with her. It was delicious. The flicker of anger behind her eyes, the way her shoulders tensed whenever Edward so
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and eleven
Edward: Pain had a way of creeping into the bones, settling deep where no amount of resolve could shake it off. Lianna’s words echoed in my mind, gnawing at the edges of my restraint. Pretend to care about Freya. That was the plan she had proposed, the grand strategy to keep Freya close, to manipulate her into revealing whatever secrets she was hiding. But that wasn’t what fucking hurt. What hurt was that after everything I had confessed to Lianna, all the moments I had laid my heart bare, all she had ever given me in return was nothing. No reassurance. No admission that she felt something. Just cold strategy. The anger had festered, seeping into my veins like poison. If that’s what Lianna wanted, then fine. I would pretend. I would give her exactly what she asked for. I would entertain Freya, smile at her, hold out chairs, offer compliments that meant nothing. Maybe then, Lianna would understand. Maybe she’d finally see what it felt like to be discarde
Last Updated : 2025-02-27Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and twelve
Freya: The moment I stepped into my chambers, I let out a long, exasperated sigh. The fabric of my dress clung to my skin uncomfortably. I needed to change, to wash off everything that had made today insufferable—Edward’s indifference, Freya's looming shadow over my ambitions, the irritation clawing at my skin like an insect I couldn’t swat away. I stripped out of my gown, letting it pool onto the floor before walking toward the mirror. My reflection stared back at me—golden curls perfectly in place, lips painted the color of ripe berries, eyes sharp, calculating. Beautiful. Desirable. And yet, completely powerless. For now. I pulled on a deep green velvet cloak, fastening it at my throat, and slid into a simpler dress—something fitting for where I was going. My fingers twitched as I laced up my boots. I was getting tired of this routine, of descending into the filth of the dungeons just to see a man who no longer served a purpose in my life. Soon, I wouldn’t h
Last Updated : 2025-02-27
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Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and ninety five
Lianna: I woke him with a kiss. It was gentle and slow, the kind that lingered on his lips like sunlight brushing the edge of dawn. His skin was warm beneath mine, soft and familiar. He stirred slowly, lashes fluttering like leaves catching the breeze before his eyes opened, that drowsy gray haze still clinging to them. “Is it time?” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with sleep. It was the kind of voice that made it feel like the world was still paused for us. I nodded, fingers brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Yeah. It's time.” He sighed, sitting up reluctantly. I could tell his body felt heavier than usual—grief had a weight all on its own. Still, he moved, slow but sure, like he owed it to himself to keep going. I slid off the bed to help him, but the rug betrayed me. My heel caught on the edge and I pitched forward with a sharp gasp. And just b
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and ninety four
Lianna: The Palace was too quiet. That kind of quiet that sat thick on the skin like humidity before a storm, smothering and heavy, as if the very walls were mourning. The corridors were dimly lit, the sun long gone, and I could hear the distant creak of wooden beams settling overhead, slow and reluctant, like the house itself didn’t want to exist in this version of our reality. Edward hadn’t said a word in hours. He lay curled on his side, one arm slung carelessly over the edge of the bed, his knuckles pale against the white linen. His lashes fluttered occasionally like he was trapped somewhere between sleep and waking. Sometimes he’d blink open his eyes and just stare blankly at the ceiling, unmoving, unblinking, lost in a place I couldn’t reach. I sat behind him, cross-legged, one hand tracing slow circles along his back. His shirt had ridden up, exposing the bare slope of his waist. The skin there was cool, soft beneath my fingertips, marred only by the faint scar
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and ninety three
Lianna: The morning light was shy, barely bleeding through the velvet curtains when I cracked my eyes open. I didn’t need a clock to know what day it was. My chest already felt like it was caving in. The air hung heavy, saturated with that stale chill that often preceded sorrow. A mourning fog rolled outside our window like some prophetic omen, brushing ghostlike tendrils across the glass. Edward hadn’t moved beside me. His breath rose and fell in shallow waves, his hand still loosely curled around mine like he feared I’d disappear in my sleep. I shifted slowly, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. We were going to banish his brother. I sat up and pulled the duvet around me, the fabric swishing softly against my bare skin. My toes hit the floor with a shiver, the marble tiles beneath me as merciless as the decisions we had to make today. My robe hung at the edge of the armchair, still draped from the night before. I sl
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and ninety two
Freya: The night felt too loud for how quiet it was. Crickets whined in the grass like tiny, angry violins, and the wind kept slipping through the cracked wooden shutters, brushing cool air against my bare arms like an unwelcome ghost. I was lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers I’d been chasing in circles. My bed creaked with the slightest shift, the old mattress groaning beneath the weight of my body. I shouldn't have come back here. I shouldn’t have returned to this house. I shouldn’t have ever listened to her. My chest ached. That tight, slow burn of regret that started somewhere beneath my ribs and dragged itself up to my throat like it had claws. I reached up and rubbed the heel of my palm against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that had already found their way to my pillow. My face was warm, wet. I could taste salt. My breath shuddered on the exhale. “I didn’t want this,” I whispered into the room, voice barely audible over
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and ninety one
Edward: The eggs Tarantino made were, as he warned me, an absolute disaster. But the bread was warm, and it was good enough to make me forget about the burnt rubber taste of the eggs. We ate in silence, only the scraping of silverware and the occasional sip of coffee filling the air. My mind wasn’t exactly on the food anyway; it was stuck on the conversation we’d had earlier. Tarantino was right, of course. Everything happens for a reason. I could hear the words repeating in my head, like a stubborn echo bouncing off the walls. But as much as I wanted to believe him, that sentiment did nothing to ease the weight in my chest. Nothing could change the fact that I was sending my brother into exile, to a life without the Pack, without me, without any of the privileges that came with being a royal. But I couldn’t just let the sorrow flood over me, not in front of Tarantino. Not in front of the only person who still seemed to see me for more than just my title. So I swallowe
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and ninety
Edward: The drive was long, and Harvey wouldn’t stop humming that off-key tune under his breath like he was trying to win some invisible award for irritation. I didn’t say anything because well, silence stretching between us felt safer than opening my mouth and letting all the tangled thoughts spill out. My jaw ached from clenching it too tight. My nails had dug half-moons into my palm by the time we pulled into the small, quiet Pack territory that felt like the world had forgotten it. “I remember this place being a dusty excuse of a town,” I muttered, eyes flicking over the paved roads and fresh buildings. “Now look at it. They have actual sidewalks. I should’ve sent Ethan here for humility training.” Harvey chuckled but didn’t comment. Smart choice. It’d been years since I last came here. I was just a boy, clinging to my father’s hand while he laughed and pointed at the bakery with the awful scones and the house with the broken weather vane that somehow never got
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and eighty nine
Lianna: The palace had never been this quiet. Not even during the former Alpha's father’s funeral, when the halls were draped in black silk and everyone spoke in whispers like mourning had a volume limit. No. This silence was different. It hung in the air like a mist, curling around the columns, sliding under doors, seeping into my skin like cold. I sat on the balcony, elbows on the marble balustrade, chin resting against the back of my hand. My eyes drifted somewhere beyond the courtyard, past the rustling hedges and the guards stationed like statues, to a place I couldn’t name. The sky was pale and slow today, the clouds dragging their feet like even they couldn’t be bothered to hurry. A soft breeze combed through my hair, lifting strands across my face, and I didn’t bother to tuck them behind my ear. Ingrid was beside me, her legs propped up on the ornate table, scrolling through her phone like it held the cure to this numbness
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and eighty eight
Ethan: The moment Edward’s footsteps faded from the dungeon, I felt my chest constrict. I was alone. And not in the usual way where I sought solitude; this time, I felt like I was suffocating. I collapsed to my knees, the cold, damp floor seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My tears came in torrents, hot and bitter, an unforgiving reminder of everything I had lost, everything I had thrown away. There was no one left to blame but myself. I didn’t even care how pathetic I looked at this moment. All I wanted was the sting of reality to fade, even if only for a second so I could catch a sense of monetary relief. The memories of my life before all this pain before Freya, before Lianna, before the twisted path I had walked flashed through my mind like a parade of ghosts. I remembered how everything had been so simple back then. It was supposed to be me and Lianna, always. We had a bond, a bond that nothing could break, or so
Revenge on my Alpha husband One hundred and eighty seven
Edward: The echo of my boots against the marble hallway was all I could hear as I stepped out of the study, my hand still clenched from how tightly I’d been gripping the edge of the desk moments ago. My jaw ached from how tightly I was clenching it, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not now. I told myself I wasn’t going to interfere. I promised Lianna I wouldn’t. But promises made in the eye of a storm rarely stand when the wind changes. And gods, it changed. The moment the elders started screaming over each other like a pack of senile hounds, all clamoring for blood, I had to shut them up. I didn’t even remember raising my voice until the silence hit. Until they all turned to me, and I, like a damn fool, spoke the decree. Now my baby brother would be banished to the Drekavac Hollow, and somehow, my voice had sealed it. The air grew colder the deeper I went, but I barely noticed. My fingers brushed the stone walls out of
