All Chapters of Mated to Three : Alphas Fight for Me: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Evander’s POV The sewer is graded with despair, time forgotten and forsaken by light. As I navigate through its tunnels, the stench of decay rubs my senses. The walls are slick with moisture, the air heavy with the weight of the earth above. Water drips in a steady cadence, the sound amplified in the oppressive silence. The cracks are sigils and designs on the walls with worms and odd insects crippling around. I move from one passage to the next, my footsteps echoing in the hollow expanse. The darkness here is absolute, a suffocating blanket that seems to swallow the feeble beam of my phone’s flashlight. "Kaden!" I call out, my voice bouncing off the walls, distorted and strange. There is no response, only the mocking echo of my own words. "Really how did he build his palace above without realizing that this exists?" I mutter to myself, shaking my head. How can a man be s

Liliana’s POV An alien presence invades me, a force as cold and foreign as the dark side of the moon. It bleeds into my veins, exploring, searching the essence of my being. I can feel it moving within me, slithering through my mind, my soul, leaving a trail of cold flames in its crossed path. Then, the cacoon unraps itself around me and I fall to the ground. It hurts, my whole body hurts but I force my head up and raise my eyes to the White Sorceress. “What...what are you doing to me?!" The Sorceress stands before me, gently stroking the Black Wolf’s head. "My dear friend here insists you are the one who can turn her back into her human form,” she replies, her voice a melody that is both beautiful and terrible. "She thinks you are the one we have been looking for.” “You’re crazy!&

Liliana’s POVA surge of power courses through me.And with it, I know that my wolf is back.Yet I am different, in a variety of ways, from what I was before. Could this have something to do with the Sorceress’ chants? I do not know.But if I could jump fifty feet in the air before, I can leap a hundred now. If I could hear a leaf break and fall a mile away, now I can hear an ant crawl from its hole at twice that distance. My sense of smell is a wonder; the night air is an encyclopedia of fragrant information to me. And my eyes are like lasers. Not only can I see much farther than before, I feel the fire in my gaze, and I seriously doubt if even the Black Wolf can withstand the power of it.Yet these refinements are not confined to strength and power. There is something else that has entered my life, something that I have never known before. I do not even have a word for it. I just feel -- lucky, as if good fortune will smile on me.I am confident as my flesh knits itself back togethe

Liliana’s POVAll who are born will one day die. It is just a matter of when, where and how.Still, knowing this does not make witnessing death any easier.My heart bleeds as I stand frozen and watch as their mother takes her last breath, surrounded by her children - Kaden, Evander, and Landon.Her fur recedes, revealing the smooth, porcelain skin beneath. The sharp contours of her wolfish face soften into delicate features, her eyes shimmering with an otherworldly depth. Strands of midnight black hair cascade gracefully down her shoulders, forming a stark contrast against the paleness of her now-human complexion.The moonlight bathes her in an ethereal glow and I cannot help but be captivated by her beauty, even now in death."If death lets me, I'll kill your father again," Kaden finally speaks, his words of venom poured out at Landon who is still cradling their mother in his hand."Your father was equally at fault, if you want death then do it to perfection and don't act a fucking

Liliana’s POV“Yes, I know the painter.”I stare down at my trembling hands.“You did?” a whisper escapes my lips.Evander's gaze, momentarily drawn away from the painting, meets mine. "Yes. I met her once when I was very young," he begins, the memories echoing in his words. "She painted my portrait."My heart starts to pound in my chest as I listen, latching on to every word that spills out of Evander’s lips. "It seems she painted a lot, if not all, of the family's portraits," he continues.“How did she look like?” I stand in the hallway with my breath held.Evander’s brows furrow as they always do when he is thinking and he looks at the portrait as if trying to picture the artist’s face. "Piercing blue eyes," he finally says and I almost collapse to the floor. Goddess. Surely it cannot be the same person. Surely it –“She had flaming red hair."Wait.The contradiction catches me off guard, a subtle jolt of dissonance in the narrative. Red hair contradicts the librarian's depiction