Nobela ni Mich Goddard

Moana’s POV When the council meeting finally ended, everyone rose at once to carry out Alpha Eldrick’s orders. The war chiefs strode from the Great Hall, already discussing which warriors would ride north. The elders departed with grim faces, their voices low as they spoke among themselves. Kaelen remained beside Alpha Eldrick while the rest of the hall slowly emptied. I returned to Alpha Eldrick’s study. I couldn’t leave my work unfinished. The bucket and brush still waited where the guards had left them earlier. Dust still clung to the corners of the heavy table and the shelves lined with old scrolls. I finished cleaning in silence, moving the cloth in slow, steady circles while my thoughts remained fixed on everything I had heard during the war council. Three hundred elite warriors. Six thousand rogues. Two nights until we rode north. As I continued working, the world beyond the walls of Night Claw Hold refused to leave my thoughts. I had spent almost my entire life with

Moana’s POV The heavy doors to the Great Hall groaned as the guards pushed them open. Warm air rolled out to meet me, carrying the lingering scent of stale ale, burning pine, leather, roasted meat, and old timber. My heartbeat quickened as I stepped inside behind them. My boots echoed softly against the polished timber floor, sounding far louder than they should have in the silence. The hall was nothing like it had been the night before. The music was gone. So were the laughter, the dancing, and the endless stream of carved ale horns raised in celebration. The long feast tables had been cleared away, leaving only a broad meeting table standing in the centre of the hall. Pale morning light poured through the high windows, stretching across the wooden floor in long golden beams. The silence somehow felt heavier than all the noise from the feast. My eyes slowly lifted until they settled on the broad meeting table. Several people were already seated around it. I recognized ma

Moana’s POV. I woke up with a dull headache pounding inside my skull. When I opened my eyes, the straw beneath me scraped against my back, the same as every morning, but today it felt as though someone was beating war drums inside my head. I stayed flat on my back, staring at the low stone ceiling of my cellar. I didn’t even have the strength to sit up yet. Thin morning light slipped through the narrow gap beneath the door, stretching across the stone floor until it reached the side of my bed. My mouth felt dry, and the bitter taste of stale ale and smoke still lingered in my throat.“I hate drinking,” I muttered, my voice rough and thick.Slowly, memories from the feast came drifting back. The roar of the great hall. Carved bull Horns filled with ale we raised high in celebration for me. Wolves chanting my name until it echoed beneath the timber rafters. I closed my eyes again and let those memories settle warmly inside my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been that g

Moana’s POVThe drums kept beating through the great hall, steady and warm like a heartbeat that refused to fade. I moved with Saga through the open space beside the hearth. My feet still stumbled from the ale, but I no longer cared. Every wrong step only made me laugh harder. Saga caught my hand whenever I nearly lost my balance, her bright smile glowing in the firelight. Around us, wolves clapped, stomped their feet, and cheered as the music echoed beneath the timber rafters. For a little while, nothing else seemed to matter.We danced like that for a while, laughing more than either of us managed to keep the rhythm. My head spun pleasantly as the ale warmed every part of my body, and for once I didn’t mind stumbling over my own feet. Saga only laughed, catching my hand before I could fall and spinning me back into the dance. Her bright red braids whipped through the firelight as she turned, and I couldn’t help laughing right along with her.Then, without warning, she slowed. Her sm

Moana’s POVI opened my mouth to explain myself, to tell them all this had been a mistake, a stumble of excitement and nothing more. But my voice caught in my throat, swallowed whole by the roar of the hall.“Too late to back out now, little wolf!” the auburn-haired warrior called, laughing as she thumped her own cup against the table.Two fresh horns were slammed down in front of us before I could protest, foam spilling over the rims and pouring onto the wooden table. Asger cracked his knuckles, one at a time, his grin never wavering.“Rules are simple, Map Bearer,” he said, loud enough for the whole hall to hear. “We drink. Whoever stays standing longest wins.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice just for me. “You can still walk away. No shame in it.”Something in his tone told me he meant it kindly. But every eye in the great hall was on me now, and I could feel the weight of all of them pressing down like a physical weight —curiosity, suspicion, and something else I couldn’t qui

Moana’s POV The silence in the great hall was absolute. Elder Rodrigo’s words still echoed through my mind, heavy with the weight of decades. For the first time in years, my father’s name had been spoken with honor instead of shame. I stood frozen a few paces from Eldrick, my bruised wrists still throbbing as I clutched the forgotten cleaning brush. The soapy puddle around my worn boots had long since gone cold. Eldrick slowly turned his golden gaze toward Marek. The temperature in the hall seemed to drop. When he spoke, his voice cut through the silence like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath. “Marek. From this moment until I say otherwise,” Eldrick declared, his voice carrying across the hall with quiet, unquestionable authority,“you are stripped of your position as my special adviser You are also relieved of your duties as spokesman for the Council of Elders.” Collective gasps rippled through the gathered wolves and nobles. Someone near the back knocked a bronze cu

Clara’s POV. Julian stood at the door for a long moment, his hand still resting on the handle. I watched his back, waiting for him to say or do something. The silence stretched until my chest started to feel tight. Then he opened the door with a soft hiss.A small wave of disappointment settled in my chest. Of course he was leaving. What did I expect?I lowered my eyes to the tea in my hands and forced myself to take another sip. A second later, I heard the door click shut.Footsteps echoed back across the suite.My head snapped up.Julian was walking toward me.He stopped at the foot of the bed, one hand slipping back into his pocket. His expression had settled into its usual calm, but there was something softer behind it now.“I can stay for twenty minutes,” he said.For a second, I just stared at him, making sure I’d heard him right.A quiet smile found its way onto my face before I could stop it.“Please sit,” I said softly.He almost smiled back. Almost. Then he moved to the cha

Clara’s POV. First all I could see was darkness. Then a dull, heavy throb pulsed behind my eyes, like someone was slowly tightening a screw inside my skull. I tried to swallow, but my throat felt dry. Something soft pressed against my cheek. A pillow. I heard faint sounds around me. Soft tapping, like someone’s fingers on a phone screen. Then the distant sounds of passing cars and the occasional honk. I blinked once. The ceiling swam into view, blurry and too bright. I blinked again. The lights dimmed a little. Shapes started to form. A lamp. Curtains. The edge of a table. I was lying on a bed. My heart skipped. I turned my head slowly. The movement made the headache flare. And then I saw him. Julian stood at the foot of the bed. One hand tucked into his pocket. The other tapping away on his phone. His face was completely still, his eyes fixed on the screen. “What the hell…” I whispered under my breath. The words came out a little louder than I’d meant them to. T

Clara’s POV The boardroom doors closed with a soft, final click. Diva and Mich were gone. Julian remained seated for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the empty doorway as if he could still see them walking away. Mich hadn’t looked back once. Diva hadn’t either. Julian’s face gave nothing away, but I knew that look. He was calculating, silently turning pieces over in his mind. Then his gaze turned to me. The air conditioner hummed softly overhead, yet a thin line of sweat traced its way down my spine. Another beaded at my forehead. I shifted slightly in my chair, but he didn’t even blink. His expression wasn’t angry or cold. It was simply Julian Cross. Unreadable. Calculating. Like he was trying to solve another puzzle, and somehow that puzzle was me. The thought alone made my stomach twist. Then his attention dropped to the cream-colored envelope still resting on the table. The air between us felt so thick I thought I might just end up having a panic attack. “Pick u

Clara’s POV. I followed Julian into the long conference room, my heels quiet against the thick carpet. At the center of the room stood an enormous mahogany table, its rich, polished surface gleaming beneath the recessed lights. It looked as though it had been carved from a single piece of wood, large enough to seat at least twenty people. Although only a few chairs had been arranged around it. Julian pulled out a chair for me like a gentleman, and I sat beside him without thinking twice. His hand brushed lightly against my shoulder before he took his own seat, solid and composed, as always. Then I let my eyes move slowly around the conference table. Several faces looked familiar, or at least the ones I remembered from the gala. A goofy-looking silver-haired man I’d seen laughing a little too loudly near the bar that day. A woman in a sharply tailored red suit who had commanded a small circle of guests near the ballroom entrance. And a few others. As I took in the faces, my

Clara’s POV.Fifty-three minutes of pure, frantic chaos later, I was practically flying out of my suite.I rushed down to the lobby, every step of my new Christian Louboutin heels echoing off the polished marble floors like the final seconds of a countdown. My heart was still racing, partly from the lingering shock of my father’s video, but mostly because I refused to give Julian Cross the satisfaction of leaving me behind"Good day to you, Madam. Splendid morning for it," the receptionist murmured as I blurred past the front desk.“Cheerio, Madam, have a lovely afternoon,” another staff member chimed in from the concierge desk, sounding so ridiculously funny it almost made me laugh.I didn’t even have the breath to reply. I managed a quick, breathless nod as I neared the entrance. The massive glass doors slid open with a seamless pneumatic hiss, welcoming me into the gray London air.The black Rolls-Royce Cullinan was already waiting at the front of the hotel.Before I could even r

Clara’s POV. I had gotten an email from the hospital. The notification glowed on my screen like a warning: Hospital Update for Mr. Sterling. A video file was attached. My heartbeat kicked into a frantic rhythm as my mind raced through a million different thoughts all at once. They usually sent text updates. Why did this one have a video attached to it? A heavy knot tightened in my stomach as my phone suddenly felt too heavy in my hand. I stared at the preview thumbnail of the video for a long moment. All I could make out were white sheets and the faint outline of the hospital bed. My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment, trembling slightly as I completely ignored the rest of the message. I squeezed my eyes shut, tilting my head up. “Please let him be…” I whispered into the quiet room, afraid to finish the sentence even in my own head. Then I tapped play. As the video began to play, I noticed it was short, only about eight seconds long. At first, nothing happened. J