Ruin Me, Alpha-Chapter 33: Dead Alpha, Living Obsession

I hit the stone floor hard enough to rattle my teeth. Pain shot through my ribs, my burned thigh screaming, but the shock only lasted a heartbeat.

Then I saw him.

Devon Warner stood on the podium in Simon’s place, black suit hugging every lethal inch of him, that faint white scar on his throat glowing under the torchlight like a taunt.

My lips curved before I could stop them.

A smirk.

"I knew you wouldn’t just die like that," I said, voice rough but steady.

He tilted his head, eyes glittering like winter steel. "Of course not, my love. Your cut was just... too weak to put me to sleep forever."

He cocked a brow. "Maybe a second try would work."

I pushed up on my palms, sitting back on my heels. "You want me to kill you again?"

Devon’s smile was slow, filthy, devastating. "Why not? I don’t mind dying in your hands again."

A chill crawled up my spine, but I didn’t look away. I finally let my gaze sweep the hall.

Every single wolf sat frozen. Eyes open, faces blank. The officiant stared straight ahead like a doll someone forgot to wind. No Simon. No Clara. No one moved. Not even to breathe too loud.

My smirk vanished.

"What did you do?" I asked, quieter.

Devon shrugged, already walking toward me, each step deliberate. "Nothing permanent."

I stayed on the floor, scooting back an inch—not scared, just... uncertain. My body remembered what his hands could do when he decided not to hold back.

He stopped right in front of me, towering. I had to crane my neck to keep his gaze.

His eyes devoured me like I was the first meal he’d seen in months.

"I missed you, my love," he said, voice low, raw. "Even in death."

I glared up at him. "What the hell are you talking about? What did you do to them?"

He crouched, slow, bringing us eye-level. "I promised I’d make you mine by any means. Even if I had to ruin the world to do it." His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. "You’ll understand what that means very soon."

He offered his hand.

I stared at it like it might bite me.

Then I took it.

My legs shook as he pulled me up. His grip was warm. Too warm. Too alive.

He didn’t let go. Just turned and led me back to the podium, my bare feet dragging over cold stone. I couldn’t stop staring at the guests. Hundreds of them. All staring ahead like someone pressed pause on the entire world.

Devon stepped up beside the officiant, taking the exact spot Simon had occupied minutes ago.

He looked at the silver-robed man. "Proceed."

The officiant blinked once, then opened his book like nothing had happened.

I opened my mouth. "Where’s the Alpha—"

Devon pressed his index finger to my lips. "Shh. If you ask too many questions, you’ll ruin it."

His thumb brushed my bottom lip. "Just go with the flow, baby."

I should’ve bitten him. Should’ve screamed. Should’ve fought.

I didn’t.

The officiant started speaking in the old tongue. Words about blood and bonds and forever. My pulse thundered so loud I barely heard him.

Devon never looked away from me.

When the officiant reached the final vow, he turned to Devon.

"Devon Warner, do you take this woman as your mate, your Luna, your eternal—"

"I do," Devon cut in, voice rough.

The officiant didn’t miss a beat. "And do you, Irene Harvey, take this wolf as your Gamma, your mate, your—"

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

Devon’s eyes flared. A silent command.

I swallowed. "I do."

The officiant nodded. "Then seal the bond with the bite of claiming."

Devon stepped closer.

I didn’t move.

He slid one hand to the back of my neck, the other gripping my waist, dragging me flush against him. His mouth hovered over the curve where my neck met shoulder.

"Do it," I whispered, not sure if I was daring him or begging.

His teeth sank in.

No pain.

Just heat. White-hot, liquid fire pouring straight into my veins. My knees buckled. A moan tore out of me, shameless, loud enough to echo in the silent hall. My fingers clawed into his suit as he sucked, slow, deliberate pulls that felt like he was drinking my soul and giving his back.

When he finally pulled away, my legs gave out completely. He caught me before I hit the floor.

The officiant droned on. "The bond is sealed. You may now kiss your mate."

Devon kissed me.

Hard. Possessive. Like he was proving a point to the entire frozen room.

When he broke it, my lips were swollen and I was panting.

He tucked me under his arm and walked us out of the hall like we’d just had a normal wedding.

No one clapped. No one moved.

The corridors were worse.

Pack members lined the halls, eyes blank, bodies rigid. Some held trays. Some stood mid-step. All robots.

I pressed closer to Devon without thinking.

He noticed. His arm tightened around my waist.

We reached the bedroom—our bedroom, apparently—and the second the door shut, I snapped.

I shoved him hard. He hit the wall with a grunt.

My hand clamped around his throat, nails digging in.

"What the fuck did you do to them?" I snarled. "Where is Simon? How are you even here?"

He just watched me, eyes hooded, lips curved.

I glanced down.

My thigh—the burn. Smooth skin. Not even a mark.

My hand flew to my neck. No bruises. No ache from Clara’s garrote.

I let go of his throat like it burned me, stumbling back, fingers tangled in my hair.

"This isn’t real," I whispered.

Devon pushed off the wall, closing the distance again. He caught my wrists, gently pulling my hands down.

"This is my world," he said softly. "I can’t explain the details. Not yet. But I made it for us."

He cupped my face. "We’re married now. Mated. Bonded. Isn’t that what you always wanted?"

"No." The word cracked out sharp. "All I ever wanted was to kill you."

He grinned. "And fuck me."

His thumbs stroked my cheeks. "Now we can do both without worry. No revenge left to chase. You already got it, baby. You won. Now we can be happy."

I shoved him back again. "What the hell are you talking about, you psychopath?"

He didn’t even stumble this time. Just stepped forward until my back hit the dresser.

"I’m still dead, Irene," he said quietly. "I might stay that way forever. So I built this place. A world where I can have you. Where you can have me. Where nothing and no one can take you away again."

His fingers slid into my hair. "Tell me you don’t want that."

"I don’t love you," I spit. "I’ll never love you."

His smile didn’t waver. "I heard your last words before I died."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

You said you loved me.

He leaned in, breath warm against my lips. "I heard you, Irene."

His mouth claimed mine.

I let him.

Goddess help me, I let him.

He moaned into the kiss, deep and broken, like a man who’d been starving. "I’ve missed you so fucking much. You have no idea."

His tongue slid against mine, desperate, filthy. I kissed him back just as hard, nails raking down his chest, tearing at his shirt.

I shoved him back an inch, gasping. "So let me get this straight. This isn’t real. You created it. And dragged me in?"

He licked his lips, tasting me still. "Something like that. Call it... a ghost world."

I stared at him. "So what? You’re a ghost?"

His grin turned wicked.

"Yes," he said, stepping close again, hands already sliding down my body. "A ghost that can fuck."

His mouth crashed into mine again, and this time I didn’t push him away.