Alpha's Regret: The Seventh Time was Forever

Chapter 642: Chapter 642 - Fight

Alpha Curt let out a wry smile, his lips curving with false friendliness. ”Won’t you let us in?”

Corvine looked around suspiciously, his gaze sweeping the empty hallway before shaking his head firmly. ”No.”

The eyes of the two Alphas dimmed, their expressions fluctuating to something more desperate. Allan spoke up, his voice placating. ”We just want to talk.” He spread his hands in a gesture of peace. ”Besides, we aren’t enemies, are we?”

Corvine did not get out of the doorway, his intense gaze fixed on Curt as he asked, his voice cold and cutting. ”Are we friends, Alpha Curt?”

He was referring to the incident in Paris, the sabotage, the threats, the humiliation. Curt caught on immediately, his jaw tightening. ”Come on, Alpha King Corvine.” His tone dripped with mockery. ”Are you afraid we are going to kill you?”

He gestured at Corvine’s powerful frame. ”Weren’t you the one who got some Alphas hospitalized? I don’t think the two of us are a match for you.”

Corvine was annoyed, his patience wearing thin. But he needed his rest for tomorrow. After all, these Alphas did not have any other fight arranged. They were out of the competition, eliminated and bitter. ”Five minutes.” He stepped aside, moving out of the doorway.

The two Alphas entered, looking around with interest as Allan spoke up, his voice urgent. ”Co-Alpha, we want you on our team.”

Corvine frowned imperceptibly, his brow furrowing with confusion. ”I’m lost here.”

Allan gritted his teeth before saying, his words tumbling out in a rush. ”We can help you defeat whoever the Alpha King is bringing. And in return, you join my pack.”

Corvine laughed heartily for the first time since arriving at the Silver Moon pack. The sound was genuine, warm, utterly amused. ”Why would I choose your pack over the Grimroot pack?”

”That’s because without winning tomorrow, you lose both the princess and the title.” Allan leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with calculation. ”We help you win, you join either of our packs. And I strongly recommend mine.”

Corvine found the request amusing, shaking his head slowly. ”So what does Alpha Curt stand to gain?”

”We are planning a merger if you agree.” Curt said, his voice carrying a note of desperation. ”You become the Alpha King at our merged pack, and Allan and I become co-Alphas.”

”That’s absurd.” Corvine laughed again, but this time there was no warmth in it. These were the same Alphas mocking him beforehand, insisting that a co-Alpha’s authority was limited and meaningless. And now, they were even ready to use that same position to further their own ambitions.

However, he deciphered something important. These Alphas wanted the crown. That was the only reason they’d settle for something like that. The promise of power, of control, of a throne they could never earn on their own.

”I won all matches without either of your help.” Corvine’s voice was flat, dismissive. ”So why would I need your help now?”

Both Alphas were rendered speechless, their carefully constructed arguments crumbling before them.

Allan sighed, his shoulders slumping with defeat. ”Don’t say that we didn’t warn you.” He moved toward the door, then paused. ”But you can still think about it and give us an answer before the fight.”

They finally left, and Corvine did not stop them. He simply locked the door behind them.

The next day, Allan and Curt went to see Jaron. Their faces were grim, their postures defeated.

”King Jaron, we tried, but he refused.” Curt’s voice was bitter. ”We gave him till this morning, but I don’t think he’ll agree to it. He’s too loyal to Voren.”

Jaron’s gaze darkened dangerously. They had come with that plan to get Corvine out of Voren’s protection, to isolate him so they could steal back the crown. But he refused. ”Then he leaves me no choice.” Jaron’s voice was cold, flat.

After the two Alphas left, Jaron went to knock on Ravyn’s door. His expression was carefully neutral, his voice pleasant. ”Here.” He handed Ravyn a card. ”He’s waiting for you. But I hope you return early enough for the coronation.”

”It’s just a meeting.” Ravyn sighed as he looked at the card. It contained information of the person he was going to meet and the address. Thankfully, it was in the outlands, so he was certain to return before the next day. ”I’ll be back before you know it.”

Jaron smiled, a cold, calculating expression. He couldn’t let Ravyn know about this bit of his plan, so this was the right time. The timing was perfect.

Corvine was already in the middle of the pack ground with pack members gathered around him before Jaron arrived with a strange-looking man.

The crowd parted as they approached, whispers rippling through the gathered pack members. It was obvious that none of them had seen the newcomer before. He moved with an unnatural grace, his presence commanding and cold.

”Co-Alpha Corvine, this is my friend, Alpha Uri.” Jaron’s voice carried a note of triumph. ”He’s also contesting for the hand of the princess.”

Corvine’s gaze dimmed a little. The man was taller than him, with black hair and handsome features that seemed almost too perfect.

He looked proud and grim, his eyes carrying a coldness that made the air around him feel thick. There was something off about him, something that made Corvine’s instincts scream warning.

”King Jaron, which pack is he from?” Corvine asked, studying the man carefully. He knew every pack, every Alpha of significance. But this face was unfamiliar.

Jaron’s brows knitted together, his voice sharp. ”Does it matter?” He waved a dismissive hand. ”You seem afraid. You can step down and I’ll have Alpha Allan and Curt have a final fight. Whoever wins fights with this man to win my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Corvine’s gaze pinned on Uri as if they were engaged in some kind of staring battle. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. The crowd held its breath, waiting for his decision.

”Alright.” Corvine finally agreed, his voice steady despite the unease coiling in his stomach.

Uri let out a wry smile, his lips curving with cold amusement. Jaron gave the order, his voice cutting through the tension. ”Fight.”