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122. Hunting
Dernière mise à jour:
2025-10-03 08:14:40
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A wife for the cursed alpha 133. Smell
Max’s POVI couldn’t walk into that council room with the smell of smoke and blood on me and then face her later. I needed her first. Even if it was just to see her breathing, safe. To remind myself what all this was for.I left the truck behind and crossed the yard to where my personal car waited. The black SUV was parked in its usual spot. It was polished, quiet, and private.When I slid behind the wheel. The leather was cool against my palms. The engine came to life with a low growl, steady and controlled. Not like the truck’s heavy roar.The drive back to the city was long. ButI barely noticed the miles. My thoughts stayed fixed on Lana on her pale face when I left. The way she had tried to smile despite the exhaustion still clinging to her.Every time the tires hit a bump in the road, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.The last time I left her unguarded. She was taken.Not again.Not ever again.By the time I reached the penthouse, my jaw ached from how hard I had been cl
A wife for the cursed alpha 132. Pushed to the limit
Max’s POVThe pinned rogue’s stare never left me. Even chained, even bleeding, there was defiance in his eyes. My wolves had him restrained. His face was pressed into the mud, claws twisted behind his back. But he was waiting for something. Not rescue. Not mercy.My wolf stirred.I stepped closer. Slow and deliberate. Letting him feel the weight of my presence. The air smelled of iron and wet fur. It was sharp with fear and blood.“You are going to talk.” I said. My voice low enough that the other wolves shifted uneasily.The rogue’s jaw clenched. His throat moved like he was swallowing glass. Then he smiled. A broken, bloody smile and something in my gut went cold.He wasn’t afraid of me.He was afraid of someone else.I opened my mouth to speak again.And then he moved.Not to fight. Not to run.His claws flashed. Fast and before Ethan or I could grab him, he slashed straight across his own throat.Blood sprayed the mud.For a heartbeat, there was silence.Then the next rogue moved
A wife for the cursed alpha 131. Fighting like demon
Max’s POVAround me, my pack fought like demons.One of my wolves got pinned, the rogue’s jaws clamped on his neck. I was there in two strides, ripping the attacker away, claws sinking into his ribs until I felt bone snap. I threw him aside, blood raining down my arm, and helped my wolf back to his feet.“Stay in formation!” I barked, my voice a low, guttural snarl through sharp teeth.We held the line.Rogues hit us from every angle, but we hit back harder. Claws slashed. Teeth tore. The air was thick with the copper stink of blood. It was with fur and dirt and sweat.I caught one by the scruff and dragged him back. Slamming him to the ground so hard his spine bent wrong. His howl turned to a whimper, then silence.Ethan tackled another one from behind, dragging him down and tearing at his throat until it came away.But they didn’t stop coming.Three more burst from the brush together, trying to overwhelm us. I snarled, my wolf surging forward. I met the first head-on, claws raking d
A wife for the cursed alpha 130. Gesture
Max’s POVEthan folded himself into the plan, the map of his mind unfolding in quick, sharp gestures. “If the waypoint is hot, we keep pressure. If it’s cold, we move in quiet. We don’t scatter stupidly. We funnel. We push toward river bend. If Kane’s men try to flank, they’ll hit the sweep.” He pointed to the east and then the line of trees beyond. “We cut the road, we control the crossing. If Kane tries to cross the river, he’ll find men waiting on the bank.”I could imagine the route in my mind like lines on a board. The quarry spot, the river bend, the old service road. The scrap of map in my pocket tightened like a promise.“Radios quiet,” I said. “Hand signals only. Eyes up. Nose down. We move now.”We stepped off. The world narrowed to the rhythm of our feet and the soft whisper of fabric against leather. The scent trail guided me, little flags of blood and spoils. Once, I paused to tie a knot in a small twig I picked up and left it in the ground. A mark for Ethan’s sweep team.
A wife for the cursed alpha 129. Blur
Max’s POVI moved without thinking. The forest blurred into a machine of motion, orders in my head, the rhythm of feet on dead leaves, Ethan’s quiet voice at my shoulder. Two wolves were already on him before I could speak. They were practiced, efficient: hands at his arms, a quick twist, a cuffing knot I knew by sound. They hauled him away from the tree like it was a rag, dragging his limbs, then dropping him on the hard ground on his back.“Check him,” I said. The words were short and flat. No mercy here. There was no room for it. Ethan’s wolf knelt, fingers moving with practiced speed. They were simple knots: rope looped, cinched, threaded through a cuff, another cuff, a tight twist. The gag went in slow and clean. There was a small, efficient cruelty in their work. Not for pleasure, but because clean work leaves no mistakes. No loose ends that could bleed answers out later.I kept my eyes on the man as they bound him. Even bound he tried to twist toward me, to spit whatever bravad
A wife for the cursed alpha 128. Silence
Max’s POVI crouched slightly. My shadow fell over him, the muscles in my arms taut and ready to strike. My eyes never left his. “Orders don’t save you,” I said, my tone flat and precise. “They don’t protect you. They don’t keep you from ending up like this. Pessed against a tree, trembling, scared for your life. Orders are just excuses for the weak. And right now, you’re weak.”He shook his head frantically. “I… I can’t… I don’t know!” His voice broke again.I pressed closer, just a step, letting him smell the scent of my wolf under my skin, the quiet power coiled in me like a spring ready to snap. “You think fear will protect you? It won’t. You think silence will save you? It won’t. Not from me. You’ll talk because you have no other choice. You’ll talk because if you don’t…” I let the tip of my claws graze the side of his arm. “I’ll make you wish you had.”The man whimpered. His knees almost buckled. I could feel his pulse racing under my hand. The heat of panic in the air, the sour
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