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One hundred and twenty nine

Author: Zara
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-09 23:18:54

Lianna:

She looked different. Her usual haughty confidence had been stripped away, leaving behind someone tired, almost… haunted. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, her shoulders drawn in like she was bracing for an attack.

Edward’s jaw tensed. He didn’t even bother greeting her.

I leaned back in his lap, tilting my head as I studied her. "You look awful," I said sweetly. "Having a hard time sleeping? Guilt tends to do that."

Freya sighed heavily. "I expected as much from you."

"And yet you walked in here anyway," I said, arching a brow. "What do you want?"

She hesitated, looking between the two of us. "Before you start hurling insults at me, I'd like to speak."

Edward exhaled sharply. "Then get on with it," he said, his voice clipped. I liked the sound of that.

Freya hesitated, as if debating whether to actually go through with whatever she had come to say. Then, taking a deep breath, she began.

“I lied about being married before,” she sa
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  • Revenge on my Alpha husband   One hundred and thirty one

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  • Revenge on my Alpha husband   One hundred and thirty three

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  • Revenge on my Alpha husband   One hundred and thirty seven

    Lianna: The sun was barely out and I was already sulking, arms wrapped tight around Edward’s waist, as my cheek pressed against the smooth, black linen of his tunic. “Lianna,” Edward murmured, laughing warmly against the shell of my ear, “I’m not going off to die.” I pouted harder. “You might as well be. Three days is basically a lifetime.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my cheek. His fingers brushed down the length of my spine, like he was trying to soothe an irritable kitten. It wasn’t working. “It’s a conference,” he reminded me for the third time, his tone patient but amused. “The Alpha Kings are meeting to discuss how to make the realm safer.” I tilted my head just enough to look up at him. “Yes. Safer. Because nothing screams safety like you leaving me to play babysitter while you gallivant off to the northern isles.” “Hardly gallivanting.” His lips twitched. “And if I recall, you promised to stand in for me while I’m

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  • Revenge on my Alpha husband   Two hundred

    Lianna: I stirred to the sound of rustling fabric and the gentle weight of a hand on mine. My eyelids blinked open slowly. The low amber glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in warm shadows. He was sitting right beside me, elbow propped on the bed, fingers trailing across my knuckles with an almost reverent tenderness. The second our eyes met, the tension on his face cracked and melted into a soft smile. "You're awake," he whispered, voice hoarse and threaded with relief. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead, one hand sliding up to cradle my cheek. "How do you feel, my warrior queen?" I let out a soft groan, stretching slowly as though my bones had been carved from old stone. “Like someone beat me with a broomstick, then threw me into a pit full of sorrow and set it on fire. But thank you for asking.” He chuckled, eyes scanning my face. “Your colour’s back. You had me panicking. You actu

  • Revenge on my Alpha husband   One hundred and ninety nine

    Lianna: I’d fought wars with blood in my teeth and lightning in my palms. I had come out bruised, singed, but never like this. Never this empty. It was like something had drained the marrow from my bones, like my soul had been sifted through a sieve and discarded for sport. I wasn’t just tired, I was hollowed out. My eyelids felt like lead but lifted slowly at the sound of faint incantations. It was low and rhythmic, the syllables curling into my ears like smoke. My vision blurred, then sharpened around the figure of a woman draped in charcoal grey, her fingers twinkling with tiny, glowing sigils. I blinked once, twice. Ah. The Pack Witch. Relief loosened something in my chest, but I didn’t let it show. I hated looking fragile, even though I currently felt like someone had taken a hammer to every joint in my body. “Still alive, I see,” I murmured, my voice raspy and dry like parchment left in the sun. “Congratulations. You all didn’t kill me with your fretting.”

  • Revenge on my Alpha husband   One hundred and ninety eight

    Edward: I paced. Slow, loud, deliberate steps that echoed down the endless marbled corridor, every sound bouncing off the high-vaulted ceilings like a cruel reminder that something—no, someone—was slipping away from me on the other side of that damn door. The physician had emerged moments ago, his face a perfect portrait of polished helplessness. “I can’t explain it, Your Highness. Her fever is dangerously high, but it’s not… it’s not normal. I’ve seen fevers. This isn’t one.” That’s it? That’s all he had to offer after prodding and poking her for nearly an hour? I clenched my jaw, fingers curling into my palm like my body was trying to fold in on itself. “Harvey,” I barked. He stepped out from the shadows. “Is there anything that can be done?” My voice had dropped, like I was asking the walls instead. Harvey nodded slowly. “Call the Pack Witch. If this isn’t natural, she’ll know.” I didn’t hesitate. I gave the order and didn’t wait to hear the reply.

  • Revenge on my Alpha husband   One hundred and ninety seven

    Freya: The moment we passed through the palace gates and the guards shut them behind us, my mother let out a sharp breath like she’d been holding it in the entire time. She didn’t even wait for the car to pick up speed before she leaned toward me, her voice thick with spite. “That Luna Queen of yours… she’s a witch.” I didn’t respond right away. I just stared out the window, watching the stone walls of the royal compound vanish behind trees and shadow. It wasn’t surprising that she’d say something like that because my mother had a habit of blaming everything on witchcraft, misfortune, or bad omens. Stub her toe? A curse. Lose a chess game? The stars weren’t aligned. But still, something in her tone made me tilt my head slightly. “She’s not a witch,” I said, letting a soft smirk curve my lips. “She’s something else entirely. Stronger. Witchcraft would’ve crumbled against that.” Mother scoffed, fingers

  • Revenge on my Alpha husband   One hundred and ninety six

    Edward: I noticed it before she said a word. That strange, twitchy little tick in Freya’s mother’s brow as her gaze kept darting back to Lianna like she was reading her soul line by line. Like she was trying to pick at something unseen, something she couldn’t reach. And then there was Lianna—calm on the outside, but her jaw was locked and her shoulders drawn like strings pulled too tight. She was staring right back at the woman, no blinking, no flinching. Whatever the hell they were doing silently across the room made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight. Still, I didn’t move. I kept my posture relaxed, back straight against the chair, fingers loosely curled around the armrest. My boot tapped lightly against the ground. I wasn’t about to let some ghost from the past rile me up before dinner. I cleared my throat lightly, eyes drifting lazily toward Freya’s mother Isolde, if I remembered right. “You said something earlier,” I began in a casual tone, “about

  • 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

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