보관함
검색
홈 / Werewolf / ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter / CHAPTER 19

공유

CHAPTER 19

작가: PUREBLISS
last update 최신 업데이트: 2026-01-27 17:24:27

Chapter 19: The Serpent’s Offer

The conservatory was a cage of glass and humidity. Ferns as tall as men pressed against the panes, their damp leaves brushing against my skin like wet fingers. It was midnight. The moon hung bloated and white above the estate, casting long, skeletal shadows across the stone path.

Elder Thorne stood by a fountain, the water’s trickle the only sound in the suffocating heat. He didn't turn when I approached. He just stood there, leaning on his silver-headed cane, sm
이 작품을 무료로 읽으실 수 있습니다
QR 코드를 스캔하여 앱을 다운로드하세요
이전 챕터 다음 챕터
잠긴 챕터

최신 챕터

  • ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter   51

    "Check the frequency again, Elara. That hum isn't coming from the village power grid. It’s too steady, too clean." Abram jammed his thumb against the receiver, his knuckles white against the black plastic. He stood in the center of their cramped kitchen, his boots tracking mud onto the floorboards.Elara didn't look up from the tangle of wires on the table. She stripped a casing with her teeth, spitting the rubber out. "I told you. The expansion was too loud, Abram. You bought off too many locals. Now the air is screaming.""I bought off the ones that mattered. The rest are too scared to breathe." Abram’s jaw creaked as he ground his teeth. He paced to the window, pulling the moth-eaten curtain back just enough to see the cliff path. "We’re ghosts. Ghosts don't make noise.""Ghosts don't run the smuggling routes for the entire coast, you idiot!" Elara slammed her palm against the table, the filleting knife rattling. "You traded a throne for a dock, but you're still playing the King. A

  • ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter   51

    "Where the hell is the rest of it, Pietro? This envelope feels light. Way too light for a week's worth of protection on the northern passage." Abram leaned against the rusted doorframe of the warehouse, his shadow stretching long and jagged across the concrete floor. He didn't look at the gun tucked into Pietro’s waistband. He looked at the grease stain on the man's undershirt.Pietro wiped sweat from his upper lip, his eyes darting toward the two bruisers standing behind Abram. "Look, Silas... the coast guard stepped up patrols. We had to dump half the crate near the reef. I’m doing my best here, okay? Nobody wants a stir.""A stir?" Abram’s jaw creaked. He stepped forward, the heavy thud of his boots echoing like a gavel. He grabbed Pietro’s throat, slamming him back against a stack of wooden crates. "I don't pay for 'best.' I pay for results. If the coast guard is a problem, you handle it. If you can't handle it, I handle you. Get the drift?""I... I’ll get it! I’ll have the rest b

  • ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter   50

    "Pull the net, you lazy bastard! The tide is turning and I’m not losing this haul because you’re staring at the horizon again!" Old Marco spat a glob of brown tobacco juice onto the salt-crusted deck, his eyes like glass shards under a frayed captain’s hat.Abram didn't snap back. He didn't even look up. He hauled the heavy, slime-slicked nylon over the gunwale, his back muscles bunching and rippling under a shirt that had long ago surrendered to the scent of diesel and dead scales. His knuckles were raw, the skin split and scabbed over from months of salt-fretting. He moved like a machine—heavy, deliberate, silent."Yeah, yeah. Just keep the boat steady, Marco," Abram grunted. His voice was a jagged rasp, unused to anything more than three-word sentences. He shoved a crate of silver-bellied sea bass toward the hold, his boots skidding on the fish guts coating the floorboards."You're a weird one, Silas. Or whatever the hell your name is today," Marco muttered, turning the wheel with

  • ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter   49

    "Get the engine running, Vane! If that patrol boat rounds the cape before we hit deep water, we’re shark bait!" Abram hauled Elara toward the shoreline, his boots skidding on the loose shale. The morning air was sharp, tasting of salt and the lingering metallic tang of the fire they’d left behind.Vane spat a glob of blood into the surf and wrenched at the pull-cord of the battered outboard motor. "I'm on it! Just keep your head down and the kid quiet!"The baby remained eerily still against Abram’s chest, a warm, pulsing weight wrapped in a scorched wool blanket. Abram stopped where the wet sand met the foam. He looked at the horizon. The sun was a jagged red wound opening over the Atlantic, turning the water into a flat, blinding sheet of polished chrome."Abram, move! Why are you stopping?" Elara grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into the muscle. She was limping, her gait uneven from the fresh stitches pulling at her skin. "The boat is right there!"Abram didn't budge. He looked

  • ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter   48

    "Check the perimeter, Vane. If a single Council drone picks up the heat from this cellar, we’re done before the sun hits the horizon." Abram shoved the heavy stone hatch upward, his shoulder muscles bunching and screaming under the strain. Dust and ash filtered down, coating his sweat-slicked face in a grey mask.Vane didn't move from the shadows. He sat against the damp brick wall, his breath coming in shallow, wet wheezes. He gestured with a blood-stained hand toward the ladder. "I’m not... I’m not checking s**t, Silas. My lungs are half-full of Atlantic salt. You go. Take the girl. Take the brat.""You aren't staying here to rot. Get up!" Abram barked. He grabbed Vane’s collar, hauling him toward the light.They emerged into the ruins of what was once the Silas pride. The estate was a skeleton of charred black timber. Smoke rose in lazy, thin ribbons from the garden where Sloane’s body was currently being reduced to bone meal. The air tasted like burnt plastic and expensive scotch.

  • ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter   47

    "Don't move, you psychopath! Drop the piece or I'll blow your head across this garden!" Elara’s voice rattled, a wet, jagged sound that tore through the roar of the collapsing roof. She lay in the mud, her lower half a ruin of shredded silk and cooling blood, but her fingers locked around the grip of the Glock Abram had dropped. The weight of the metal was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.Sloane stood ten feet away, silhouetted against the white-hot skeleton of the estate. The laser dot on the infant’s forehead flickered, then died as Sloane’s hand trembled. She stared at the mess of birth and fire, her clinical mask finally cracking. "You... you shouldn't even be breathing, Elara. That much blood... it’s impossible.""I'm a mother, Sloane. 'Impossible' doesn't live here anymore." Elara ground her teeth, her jaw creaking. She didn't look at the baby. She didn't look at Abram. She focused entirely on the center of Sloane’s chest.Abram scrambled through the dirt, his knees di

더보기

다른 추천

좋은 소설을 무료로 찾아 읽어보세요
GoodNovel 앱에서 수많은 인기 소설을 무료로 즐기세요! 마음에 드는 작품을 다운로드하고, 언제 어디서나 편하게 읽을 수 있습니다
앱에서 작품을 무료로 읽어보세요
앱에서 읽으려면 QR 코드를 스캔하세요.
DMCA.com Protection Status