All Chapters of The Cursed Alpha’s Fake Bride: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

 *** Ariana’s POV The violent heaving finally stopped, leaving my throat raw and burning. My body trembled, half from exhaustion and half from the sight before me—the blackened remains of Master Oren’s body still smoldered faintly, the air thick with the acrid scent of charred flesh. “Goddess,” I whispered, wiping at my mouth with the back of my trembling hand. A sharp intake of breath startled me, and I looked up to see Dr. Alexander standing frozen a few paces away, his face pale and his eyes wide with horror. How much had he seen? Enough, judging by his expression. “You’re late, Doctor,” I snapped, my voice hoarse but steady. There wasn’t time to let h

*** Ariana’s POVThe hallway outside Draven’s hospital room felt both suffocating and endless. My limbs were heavy, my steps sluggish as I stumbled out of the sterile room. I leaned against the cool wall opposite the door, the faint beeping of machines still echoing in my ears.Looking down at myself, my stomach turned.Draven’s blood—dark, dried, and clinging—streaked my clothes, my arms, even under my nails. It coated my skin like a mark of shame. I rubbed frantically at my hands, my breathing quickening.“Get it off,” I muttered to myself, scrubbing my palms against my shirt. “Get it off.”No matter how hard I rubbed, the crimson streaks smeared and darkened

*** Ariana’s POVOh, this swaying is going to make me sick. I reach out blindly, searching for something to steady myself against the rhythmic pull rocking me side to side, but my wrists burn and are unresponsive. My head feels heavy, my neck stiff, and there’s a dull thrum vibrating beneath me. I crack my eyes open.My fingers graze smooth leather. Not my car. My pulse quickens, a sharp beat pounding in my ears.I crack my eyes open, squinting at the dim light filtering through darkened windows. The world outside is a blur, shadows and faint lights streaking past. None of it familiar.I sit up—too fast. The seatbelt yanks against my shoulder, locking me in place. My stomach lurches. My chest tightens. Where the hell am I?“Good, you’re awake,” says a voice—deep, calm, and detached.My head snaps toward the sound. The driver. I catch his reflection in the rearview mirror: sharp green eyes, a scar running down his jaw, short-cropped hair. “I think I’m going to be sick” My voice cracks

*** Ariana’s POVThe candlelight flickers softly across the table, its warm glow catching on the edges of the dark wood. The food smells incredible—roasted meat, buttery vegetables, and a faint hint of herbs I can’t place—but I can’t bring myself to eat.Cirian seems perfectly at ease, enjoying his stake like it’s Sunday dinner with the family. His glass of wine sits untouched beside him, though he glances at it occasionally as if debating whether to take a sip.“You’ve changed,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence.I glance up sharply, my fork still hovering over my plate. “Have I?”He smiles faintly, setting his knife down. “Yes. You carry yourself differently now—more confident. More… focused.”The compliment feels like a trap, and I carefully lower my fork back to the plate. “Life has a way of doing that to people.”

*** Ariana’s POVThe door clicks shut behind me, and I turn automatically, scanning for a lock. My fingers skim the edges of the wood, searching the smooth surface in vain. Nothing. Not even a latch to bar the door from the inside.I exhale in irritation, stepping back to take in the room, my gaze darting from the chest against the far wall to the chair near the fire. Both seem flimsy options to block the door, but I’m already calculating how much noise they’d make if someone tried to come in uninvited.At least I’d have a warning.Pivoting quickly, my breath catches—no, halts altogether. There’s someone sitting on the edge of the bed.“Elara?” I blurt, my voice sharp as I take a reflexive step back. “What the hell?”The woman perched before me doesn’t flinch, her head tilting slightly as if I were the intruder.“Miss Ariana,” she says softly, her lips curling into a small, fragile smile. It’s disarming, but only because it doesn’t erase the dark circles under her eyes or the hollows i