Ruin Me, Alpha-Chapter 42: Twenty-Four Ways To Kill An Alpha

The world snapped back into place with a violent lurch.

Noise crashed into me first. Laughter. Music. Clinking glasses. Wolves talking over one another.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

The time loop restarting.

Again.

My heels were planted on polished marble. My fingers wrapped around a cold bottle of champagne. My hair—black, sleek, unfamiliar—fell over my shoulders. The dress clung to me.

I downed the champagne in one go. The burn hit my throat, but I didn’t care. I slammed the bottle down on a nearby table and marched straight through the crowd, ignoring the stares. No waiting for speeches. No mingling. Straight to Devon’s room.

I pushed open the door to his bedroom without knocking. The light flicked on under my hand. I paced for a second, then sat on the edge of his bed, legs crossed, waiting.

The door opened.

Devon halted in the doorway.

His eyes swept over me, but I didn’t give him time to speak. I lunged, claws out, straight for his chest. My hand plunged in, fingers closing around his heart. I yanked it free with a wet rip.

He collapsed without a word, eyes wide.

I dropped the heart on the floor and sat back down, blood dripping from my hand.

The door burst open minutes later. Astrid screamed. Soldiers flooded in, weapons up.

They grabbed me. I didn’t fight.

The air cracked.

The world tore.

Loop rebooted.

I downed the champagne again. Marched to his room. Waited.

Door opened. Lunged. Ripped out his heart.

Soldiers came. Arrested me.

Reboot.

Again.

Downed champagne. To his room. Waited. Ripped heart.

Reboot.

I did it over and over. No words. No hesitation. Just his heart in my hand every time.

Fifth time.

Tenth.

Fifteenth.

Twentieth.

Twenty-third.

Each reboot the same. Champagne down. March to room. Rip heart. Wait for arrest.

On the twenty-fourth, I downed the champagne, marched to his room, waited.

Door opened. Lunged. Heart out.

Collapsed. Soldiers. Arrest.

Reboot.

But this time, when the world snapped back, something was off. No Devon on the podium. No speech echoing through the hall. I frowned, scanning the crowd. Everyone was here—Brielle, Zane, Molly—but the energy was wrong. Somber. Hushed whispers instead of laughter.

"This isn’t—" I muttered, voice hoarse.

Brielle stood a few feet away, dressed in black, her baby bump still obvious, her face drawn and tired. Zane stood beside her, hand on her waist, not smiling.

Not smiling at all. Not smiling like the other 25 times.

I took a step forward.

"Brielle," I called.

She turned. "Irene? Are you okay?"

My pulse thundered. "Where’s Devon?"

Her brows knitted like I’d asked something stupid. "Irene... Devon is dead."

The glass slipped from my fingers.

It shattered.

"What?" The word tore out of me. "No. No, that’s not—"

I spun around.

That’s when I saw it.

The podium.

A massive framed image.

Devon.

Smiling slightly. Confident. Alive.

The words beneath it crushed my lungs.

IN LOVING MEMORY

DEVON WARNER

ALPHA OF THE NORTH

My knees buckled.

"This is a joke," I whispered. "This is another trick. Another loop. He’s supposed to be—"

"—Irene," Brielle said softly, reaching for me. "You’re scaring me."

I jerked away.

"What year is it?" I demanded.

She blinked. "2035. Irene, seriously—"

The room tilted.

Same year.

Same year. So, how come he is dead?

I staggered backward.

Molly grabbed my arm. "Hey—where are you going?"

I yanked free. "Away."

"Irene, wait—"

I pushed through the crowd.

Then Astrid stepped directly in front of me.

Black knee-length gown. Tear-stained face. Red-rimmed eyes.

Hatred burning beneath it all.

"You," she hissed.

I stopped only because my body refused to move anymore.

"You did this," Astrid said, voice shaking. "You murdered my husband."

"I don’t—"

"I know there’s no evidence," she continued sharply. "But I will find it. And when I do, I will make sure you rot in jail."

I stared at her.

Nothing connected.

Nothing made sense.

I shoved past her.

Hard.

"Irene!" she shouted after me.

I didn’t stop.

I ran.

The Alpha’s wing swallowed me whole. I marched towards his bedroom.

My heels echoed against the floor as the scent hit me.

Cedar.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs.

I slowed.

No.

He’s dead.

I took another step.

The air shifted behind me.

I froze.

I turned.

Nothing.

I swallowed and kept walking.

Then—

The air moved again.

This time heavier.

Closer.

My hand trembled.

"Looking for me, baby?" I heard the voice.

I spun around.

My breath left my body in one sharp gasp.

Devon leaned against the wall.

Alive.

In a suit.

White shirt. Five buttons undone. Tie discarded. Dark hair slightly mussed.

Eyes impossibly dark.

Impossible.

"What the fuck is going on?" I whispered.

He didn’t answer.

Just pushed off the wall.

Walked closer.

Every step deliberate.

Predatory.

He leaned against the opposite wall, arms folding loosely, gaze dragging over me like hunger itself.

"Your time will be up soon," he said quietly. "Come and find me in my study when it restarts."

"What—"

He straightened.

Turned.

Walked away.

I reached for him—

That was when the world cracked.

Folded.

Black. time loop rebooted.

—

Noise slammed into me again.

Same hall.

Same black dress.

Same funeral.

I didn’t hesitate this time.

I dodged Brielle.

Shoved Molly aside.

Astrid opened her mouth.

I slammed my shoulder into her and ran.

The Alpha wing.

The study.

I burst through the door.

Devon sat behind the desk.

Feet propped up.

Whiskey glass in hand.

Shirt open.

Sleeves rolled.

Relaxed.

Too relaxed.

"Sit," he said casually, sipping. "You look like you’re about to commit a felony."

"What the hell is happening?" I snapped, marching toward him. I grabbed his shirt, yanking him up. "What game are you playing?"

He didn’t resist.

Just rose slowly.

The glass hovered near his mouth as he took another sip.

"Twenty-four times," he murmured. "You carved my heart out twenty-four times."

My grip loosened from his shirt.

"I love you, baby."

I shoved him.

Hard.

He barely moved.

"You knew," I said, shaking. "You knew the whole time."

He tilted his head. "Didn’t you think it was weird?"

"Weird that you let me kill you?" I snapped. "Yes, actually."

A slow smile curved his mouth.

"That I didn’t blink," he said. "Didn’t fight. Didn’t stop you."

My stomach dropped.

He stepped closer.

Close enough that I could smell the whiskey. The cedar. Him.

"So you knew I was in a time loop," I whispered.

He slid his arm around my waist.

Pulled me flush against him.

The glass clinked softly as he set it down.

His lips brushed mine.

"I’d sworn I’d go to hell with you if I could," he murmured. "You think I’d leave you alone in a time loop?"

I slapped him.

The sound echoed.

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even turn his head.

Just looked at me.

Eyes burning.

"So you pretended not to know me?" I spat.

"I thought you’d know," he said calmly. "If I were in your place, I’d know."

He stepped in again.

Backed me against the wall.

His hand braced beside my head.

"Covenants don’t break, we are in a covenant," he said softly. "Before I look at another woman, I’d die first and then, rot in hell."

My breath hitched.

I didn’t push him away when he kissed me.

Hard and desperate.

All teeth and heat.

I gasped into his mouth.

Hated myself for it.

Loved it.

He groaned low, like the sound had been trapped in him for centuries.

His hand slid down.

Gripped my thigh.

Pulled me closer until I felt him—hard, unashamed, pressing into me.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

He smiled against my mouth.

"There you are," he murmured.

His hand dipped lower.

Cupped my butt cheek.

Used it to grind me into him.

I moaned.

"Devon—"

"Shh," he whispered. "Your time loop snaps in a minute."

He kissed my jaw.

My neck, dragging his tongue along the sensitive part, slowly and possessively.

"Meet me in my room," he said against my ear. "When it reboots."

The world shattered.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Darkness took me whole. My time loop rebboted.