All Chapters of My Mate, My Bully: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

× Trix × The pack gates groan as they slide into lockdown. Alvera gives me a sharp nod before disappearing into the crowd of guards, shouting orders like the warrior she is. Meanwhile, Ryder’s already at the wheel of an ATV, revving the engine impatiently. I hop onto another, the rumble of the machine matching the growl in my chest. My wolf is restless, clawing at the surface, urging me to move faster, to get to Dixie.We tear through the forest, the dry earth kicking up behind us in dusty clouds. The ride feels endless, every second stretching like an eternity. Ryder stays close, his focus sharp for once. The closer we get, the stronger the bond pulls, like a string tightening around my ribs. I can almost feel her fear, hot, suffocating, desperate. Then the trees thin out, giving way to an abandoned clearing. The air is unnervingly still, the kind of quiet that makes your instincts scream. We slow down, cutting the engines as we near the stone mill Alvera described. It looms a

× Trix ×I take a sip of the coffee in front of me. Ew. Frowning as the bitterness spreads across my tongue. It’s not just bad, it’s like someone brewed regret and pain into a cup. My instinct is to toss it across the room, but I do not. I just sit there, swirling the liquid in my cup, glaring at it as if it’s the source of all my problems. Maybe it is. Or maybe I just can’t focus. The words spilling out of Ryder and Alvera’s mouths barely register. They’re sitting across from me, their voices sharp, urgent, but muffled in my head like I’m underwater. It’s been days. Days since Dixie said anything, her gaze is still glassy and distant, like she’s looking through me instead of at me. Days since she said more than a few words, her voice hoarse, strained, nothing like the bright, cheeky tone I’ve grown used to. She’s getting better. At least, that’s what the healer keeps saying. Give her time. She'll be okay.Time. It’s the only thing I don’t have. Not with Salcom still out ther

× Trix × I’ve been staring at the clock for what feels like an eternity, the second hand ticking slower than usual. My foot taps against the floor rhythmically, and my hands are clasped together so tightly that my knuckles ache. Where are they? We’d agreed to meet here at exactly 10 AM, and it’s already creeping past 10:15. This anticipation has me on edge, and I’m not sure if it’s the pressure of what’s at stake or the endless stream of "what ifs" racing through my mind. Finally, the door creaks open. Dixie walks in first, her movements are slow and her expression is carefully composed. She’s dressed in dark jeans and a plain sweater, but there’s an air of strength about her, even if it’s muted by everything she’s been through. My eyes linger on her for a second longer than I should before shifting to Alvera and Ryder, who follow closely behind. Alvera’s carrying a thick, leather-bound book, its edges are frayed and worn, while Ryder looks like he just rolled out of bed, his hair

× Dixie × Trix keeps glancing over his shoulder to look at me. If only he could stop being so uneasy. Ryder is muttering something about how we shouldn’t get comfortable, and Alvera, as always, is sharp-eyed and ready for anything. Still, none of us say it out loud. But we’re being followed. I don’t know if it’s the snapping of a twig too close or the lingering scent of something unfamiliar, but my body knows it before my mind catches up. My stomach churns. For a moment, I think maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe we’re just paranoid, on edge because of how deep we’ve gotten into enemy territory. And then they come. Like shadows, they appear from the darkness. Figures dressed in black, their movements swift and calculated. It happens so fast. One moment, we’re driving in silence, the next, chaos erupts. Alvera is the first to act, parking the car, pulling a blade from her boot and launching herself at the nearest person. The sound of metal clashing against metal fills the air

× Trix דYou talk too much,” I say, my voice low and calm, though every muscle in my body is strung tight. Salcom stops. “Oh? Did I hit a nerve? Don’t like being reminded of how small you really are?” He leans forward, resting his hands on his knees like he’s speaking to a child. “Here’s the thing, Trix. Power isn’t about who has the best speeches, or who commands the most respect. Power is about winning . It’s about crushing your enemies so thoroughly that they’ll never dare to challenge you again.” I take a single step forward, and the gunmen shift, fingers twitching on triggers. Salcom notices but doesn’t react. He’s too caught up in his own ego. “And let me guess,” I say, my tone sharp and cold, “you think you’re the one holding all the cards here? You think you’ve already won?” Salcom straightens his posture, his smirk widening. “I know I’ve won. Look around you, Alpha. My men outnumber you a hundred to one. I lured you here like lambs to the slaughter. Your pack is