Billionaire Alpha's 99 Deadly Games

Chapter

11

Leila had been pampered her entire life by her Alpha father-people spoke to her in reverent tones, never raising their voices, let alone shouting at her.

Blind with rage, she lunged forward, perfectly manicured nails aimed at Lucas's face like talons!

Lucas deflected her attack effortlessly, shoving her backward until she stumbled and collapsed to the floor in an undignified heap.

"Guards," he called, voice ice-cold, "remove Miss Blackwood from the pack. Immediately."

"YOU BASTARD!" Leila's shrieks ricocheted off the marble floors.

The massive oak doors slammed shut, silencing her hysteria mid-scream.

The day of Aria's funeral arrived beneath a weeping sky-gentle rain that seemed to mourn alongside the gathered crowd.

Lucas carried her urn with trembling hands, his movements painfully deliberate as he placed it into the marble crypt. Every moment felt surreal, as if he were trapped in some horrific dream he couldn't escape. This couldn't be happening-he couldn't be burying the mate he had only just realized he loved.

As the final stone was placed, the collective sobs behind him crescendoed. Aria had been genuinely beloved. Her radiance had touched countless lives. Her parents, shattered by unimaginable grief, had retreated to the Northern Alpine Pack, unable to face the ceremony that would make their daughter's absence permanent.

But everyone else who had known Aria-from childhood friends to pack members, even the barista who had served her daily coffee-had come to pay their respects. Their grief mingled with the rain, creating a symphony of sorrow that seemed to emanate from the

earth itself.

Lucas knelt before her tombstone, a broken Alpha rendered statue-like in his grief. His fingers repeatedly traced the inscription he had insisted upon: "Luna Aria Collins Thornwood, Beloved

Mate."

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Chapter 11

Luna. The title she should have held in life, not just in death.

"Aria..." Her name caught in his throat, tears falling before he could form another word. Every memory of her smile, her laugh, the way she'd dance around their kitchen on Sunday mornings-all of it crashed over him in waves of regret so powerful they physically hurt.

He remained kneeling long after everyone had gone, the rain soaking through his expensive suit, his body shivering violently though he felt nothing.

That night, having refused to leave her graveside until physically carried away by his guards, Lucas collapsed with a dangerous fever.

In his delirium, Aria came to him.

The nightmare replayed that fateful night, but with one crucial difference-this time, he hadn't left

her behind. In this version, he had recognized the danger, had grabbed her hand and pulled the blindfold from her eyes.

"Run!" he shouted, gripping her fingers so tightly he feared he might hurt her, but unable to loosen

his hold. "The whole place is going to blow!"

The heat was suffocating, smoke burning their lungs as they navigated through the labyrinthine

hallways. Each step felt like salvation-he was saving her this time. He wouldn't fail her again.

Just as the exit door appeared ahead, freedom visible through its glass panel, Aria suddenly stopped.

No matter how he pulled, she remained rooted in place.

In the dream, the fire had already reached the gasoline containers, their metal sides bulging

ominously.

"Please!" he begged, terror making his voice crack. "We have to go NOW!" Instead of responding, Aria looked at him with such profound sadness that his heart constricted.

Slowly, deliberately, she peeled his fingers from her wrist, one by one. "You can't save me, Lucas," she said softly. "You're the one who killed me." With those words hanging between them, she turned and walked deliberately back into the heart of

the inferno.

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"ARIA, NO!"

A blinding explosion engulfed her, erasing her from existence in a violent flash of light and heat.

"ARIA!"

Lucas bolted upright in bed, gasping for air, his body drenched in cold sweat despite the fever ravaging his system. The dream had felt so real-for those few precious moments, she had been alive again, within his reach.

He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand-a pathetic ritual he couldn't break, checking for messages from a number that would never text again. Before he could unlock the screen, his bedroom door burst open, his guardian's face ashen with panic: "Alpha! There's an emergency at Luna Collins's crypt!" No one could have predicted Leila's complete psychological break-sneaking into the cemetery with bribed groundskeepers, disinterring Aria's urn, and threatening to scatter her remains.

When Lucas arrived, the scene before him was something from a nightmare. Leila stood in the rain, mascara streaming down her face, clutching Aria's urn like a trophy.

Fighting through his fever-induced weakness, Lucas approached her slowly. "Put it down, Leila,” he commanded, his voice deadly quiet.

His controlled tone only seemed to further unravel her fragile sanity. She threw her head back in manic laughter.

"Fuck you!" she screeched, holding the urn tighter. "This worthless bitch stole everything from me! First my ceremonial dancer position, now my Alpha mate! Even in death, she gets to be Luna

Thornwood while I'm left with NOTHING!"

Lucas froze at her next words.

"I should have killed her years ago instead of just framing her for challenging me! Would have saved us all this trouble!"

The confession sliced through him-the original "crime" that had justified three years of torment had been fabricated. He had destroyed Aria for nothing. Pure rage gave him a surge of strength despite his illness. He lunged forward, desperate to protect the only physical reminder of Aria he had left.

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Chapter 11

His fever-weakened body betrayed him-as his fingers nearly reached the urn, his legs buckled

beneath him.

Time seemed to slow as he collapsed forward. Leila, startled by his sudden movement, stumbled backward, losing her grip on the urn.

The delicate ceramic container tumbled through the air in what felt like slow motion before shattering against the marble floor with a sound that seemed to echoChapter 11

Leila had been pampered her entire life by her Alpha father-people spoke to her in reverent tones, never raising their voices, let alone shouting at her.

Blind with rage, she lunged forward, perfectly manicured nails aimed at Lucas's face like talons!

Lucas deflected her attack effortlessly, shoving her backward until she stumbled and collapsed to the floor in an undignified heap.

"Guards," he called, voice ice-cold, "remove Miss Blackwood from the pack. Immediately."

"YOU BASTARD!" Leila's shrieks ricocheted off the marble floors. The massive oak doors slammed shut, silencing her hysteria mid-scream. The day of Aria's funeral arrived beneath a weeping sky-gentle rain that seemed to mourn alongside the gathered crowd.

Lucas carried her urn with trembling hands, his movements painfully deliberate as he placed it into the marble crypt. Every moment felt surreal, as if he were trapped

in some horrific dream he couldn't escape. This couldn't be happening-he couldn't be burying the mate he had only just realized he loved.

As the final stone was placed, the collective sobs behind him crescendoed. Aria had been genuinely beloved. Her radiance had touched countless lives.

Her parents, shattered by unimaginable grief, had retreated to the Northern Alpine Pack, unable to face the ceremony that would make their daughter's absence permanent.

But everyone else who had known Aria-from childhood friends to pack members, even the barista who had served her daily coffee-had come to pay their respects. Their grief mingled with the rain, creating a symphony of sorrow that seemed to emanate from the

earth itself.

Lucas knelt before her tombstone, a broken Alpha rendered statue-like in his grief. His fingers repeatedly traced the inscription he had insisted upon: "Luna Aria Collins Thornwood, Beloved

Mate."

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Chapter 11

title she should have held in life,

his throat, tears falling before he could form another word. Every memory of her smile, her laugh, the way she'd dance around their kitchen on Sunday mornings-all of it crashed over him

through his expensive suit, his body shivering violently

refused to leave her graveside until physically

Lucas collapsed with a

delirium, Aria came to

fateful night, but with

he hadn't left

this version, he had recognized the danger, had

fingers so tightly he feared he might

whole place

heat was suffocating, smoke burning their lungs as they navigated

the labyrinthine

Each step felt like salvation-he was saving

her again.

door appeared ahead, freedom visible

Aria suddenly stopped.

matter how he pulled, she remained

dream, the fire had already reached the gasoline containers,

sides bulging

ominously.

have to go NOW!" Instead of responding, Aria looked at him with

heart constricted.

"You're the one who killed me." With those words hanging between them, she turned and

the inferno.

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Chapter 11

"ARIA, NO!"

her, erasing her

light and heat.

"ARIA!"

bolted upright in bed, gasping for air, his body drenched in cold sweat despite the fever ravaging his system. The dream had felt

for messages from a number that would never text again. Before he could unlock the screen, his bedroom door burst open, his guardian's face ashen with panic: "Alpha! There's an emergency at Luna

before him was something from a nightmare. Leila stood in the rain, mascara streaming down her face, clutching Aria's urn

trophy.

his fever-induced weakness, Lucas approached her slowly. "Put it down, Leila,"

controlled tone only seemed to further unravel her fragile sanity.

head back

worthless bitch stole everything from me! First my ceremonial dancer position,

in death, she gets to be Luna Thornwood while I'm left

froze at her next

should have killed her years ago instead

us

been fabricated. He had destroyed Aria for nothing. Pure rage gave him a surge of strength despite his illness. He lunged forward, desperate to

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his fingers nearly

legs buckled

beneath him.

slow as he collapsed forward. Leila, startled by his

container tumbled through the air in what felt like

the marble floor with a sound that seemed to echo through

washing away the last physical trace of her existence. Lucas stared in mute horror, a guttural sound

coughed up blood.

"Aria..."

was both prayer and apology-too late for either

Pack in southern territory

the Northern territory, where Aria quietly

life.

reports of Lucas's breakdown reached her-his violent revenge

his obsession with her "remains," his collapse at her memorial-she simply offered an enigmatic smile and changed the

past. The she-wolf who had loved Lucas Thornwood had

that fire, exactly as

planned.

entered the sitting room, carrying

for

in one determined gulp. Seeing her daughter's face contort from

bit longer. Two more weeks of treatment

legs will be fully healed, and you can audition for

eyes softened with pride as she gently brushed a strand of

Aria's face.

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Chapter 11

of her freedom. She had escaped the fire that night through careful planning, but hadn't anticipated the additional gasoline containers that someone had stored in

abandoned building.

her off guard as she fled, a falling beam pinning her legs, nearly costing her the dancing career she had sacrificed

at a price. Her legs were healing, her future bright with new possibilities. She had escaped the beautiful

life and stepped into a painful but honest

the first time in

☐ to)

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through Lucas's very soul.

impact scattered Aria's ashes across the wet floor, the rain quickly

physical trace of her existence. Lucas stared in mute horror, a

coughed up blood.

"Aria..."

was both prayer and apology-too late for either to matter. The Northern

Thornwood Pack in southern territory buzzed with scandals

reaching even as far as the Northern territory, where Aria

life.

breakdown reached

former friends' packs, his obsession with her "remains," his collapse at her memorial-she simply offered an enigmatic smile and changed

who had loved Lucas Thornwood had

that fire, exactly as

planned.

entered the sitting room, carrying a steaming cup

"Time for your treatment,

determined gulp. Seeing her daughter's face contort

"Then your legs will be fully healed, and you can audition for the Alpine Dance Company like

softened with pride as she gently brushed a strand of hair

Aria's face.

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Chapter 11

at her legs,

that night through careful planning,

11

life by her Alpha father-people spoke to her in reverent tones, never raising their voices, let alone shouting

with rage, she lunged forward, perfectly manicured nails aimed

face like talons!

effortlessly, shoving her backward until she stumbled and collapsed

he called, voice ice-cold, "remove Miss Blackwood from the

floors. The massive oak doors slammed

funeral arrived beneath a weeping sky-gentle rain that

mourn alongside the

painfully deliberate as he placed it into the marble crypt. Every moment

couldn't be happening-he couldn't be burying the mate he had only just realized he

him crescendoed. Aria had been genuinely beloved. Her

unable to face the ceremony that would make

Aria-from childhood friends to pack members, even the barista

with the rain, creating a symphony of sorrow that seemed to emanate

tombstone, a broken Alpha rendered statue-like in his

the inscription

Collins Thornwood, Beloved

Mate."

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Chapter 11

in life, not just in death. "Aria..." Her name caught in his throat, tears falling before he could

around their kitchen on Sunday

his expensive suit, his body shivering violently though he felt nothing. That night, having refused to leave her graveside

Lucas collapsed

Aria