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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Billionaire Alpha's 99 Deadly Games

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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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Billionaire Alpha's 99 Deadly Games

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Chapter 11

title she should have held in life, not just

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

rain soaking through his expensive suit, his body

having refused to leave her graveside until physically carried away

guards, Lucas collapsed with

delirium, Aria came

fateful night, but with one crucial difference-this

he hadn't left

recognized the danger, had grabbed her hand and pulled the blindfold from

gripping her fingers so tightly he feared he might hurt her,

whole place is going

smoke burning

the labyrinthine

was saving her this

her again.

door appeared ahead, freedom visible through its

Aria suddenly stopped.

matter how he pulled, she remained rooted in

fire had already reached the gasoline containers, their

sides bulging

ominously.

making his voice crack. "We have to go NOW!"

heart constricted.

"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

the inferno.

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Chapter 11

"ARIA, NO!"

her from existence in

light and heat.

"ARIA!"

drenched in cold sweat despite the fever ravaging his system. The dream had felt so real-for those few precious

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

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

trophy.

Lucas approached her slowly. "Put it down, Leila," he commanded, his

seemed to further unravel

head back in

she screeched, holding the urn tighter. "This worthless bitch stole

in death, she gets to be Luna Thornwood while

at her next

instead of just framing her

have saved us all this

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

16.39

Alpha's 99 Deadly

5.0% Chapter 11

his fingers nearly reached the

legs buckled

beneath him.

Leila, startled by his sudden movement, stumbled backward, losing her

tumbled through the air in what felt

with a sound

dissolving them into nothingness, washing away the last physical trace of her existence. Lucas stared in mute horror, a guttural sound escaping him before

coughed up blood.

"Aria..."

and apology-too late for

Thornwood Pack in southern territory buzzed with scandals and

as the Northern territory, where Aria quietly followed the news of

life.

Lucas's breakdown reached her-his violent revenge

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

who

that fire, exactly as

planned.

the sitting room, carrying a steaming cup of bitter

for your treatment,

the dark liquid in one determined gulp. Seeing her

a bit longer. Two more weeks

and you can audition for the Alpine Dance Company like

softened with pride as she gently brushed a strand of

Aria's face.

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Chapter 11

escaped the fire that night through careful planning, but hadn't anticipated the additional gasoline containers that someone

abandoned building.

a falling beam pinning her legs, nearly costing her the dancing career she had

her mother liked to say, freedom always comes at a price. Her legs were healing, her future bright with new possibilities. She had escaped the

and stepped into a

in

☐ to)

16:39

through Lucas's very soul.

ashes across the wet

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

coughed up blood.

"Aria..."

prayer and apology-too

southern territory

whispers reaching even as far as the Northern territory, where Aria quietly

life.

Lucas's breakdown reached her-his violent

his collapse at her memorial-she simply offered an enigmatic smile and

she-wolf who had loved Lucas Thornwood had died

that fire, exactly as

planned.

sitting room, carrying a steaming

for your

it, downing the dark liquid in one determined gulp. Seeing her daughter's face contort

of treatment and we're done." "Then your legs will

softened with pride as she gently brushed a strand of hair

Aria's face.

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Chapter 11

her legs, considering the price of

that night

11

to her in reverent tones,

lunged forward, perfectly manicured

face like talons!

backward until she stumbled and

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

BASTARD!" Leila's shrieks ricocheted off the marble floors. The massive oak doors slammed

beneath a weeping sky-gentle

alongside the gathered

urn with trembling hands, his movements painfully deliberate as he placed it into the marble crypt. Every moment felt

horrific dream he couldn't escape. This couldn't be happening-he couldn't be

him crescendoed. Aria had been genuinely beloved. Her radiance had touched countless

the ceremony that would make their daughter's

friends to pack members, even the barista who had served her daily coffee-had come

rain, creating a symphony of sorrow

knelt before her tombstone, a broken Alpha rendered statue-like

fingers repeatedly traced the inscription he had insisted upon: "Luna

Collins Thornwood, Beloved

Mate."

16.39

99

48%

Chapter 11

The title she should have held in life, not just in death. "Aria..." Her name

smile, her laugh, the way she'd dance around their kitchen on Sunday mornings-all

kneeling long after everyone had gone, the rain soaking through his expensive suit, his body shivering

collapsed with a dangerous

his delirium, Aria

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