로그인Will Alpha Ronan live upto his promise or is he going to let the Lycan King know of his Luna's whereabouts?
Xavier’s POVThe impact cracked through the chamber.Aurelian caught my strike before it fully landed, the force of it sending a violent shockwave through the stone beneath our feet. The floor splintered, dark jagged cracks shooting outward like a web, but neither of us moved back.Marcus roared inside me, fully unleashed now, every instinct sharpened into one singular, lethal purpose that was to destroy him.Aurelian’s eyes darkened as he held my wrist in place, his grip like iron. “Ever so predictable,” he murmured.I drove my other fist straight into his ribs. This time he moved, though barely, but it was enough. The force sent him sliding several feet back across the platform, his boots scraping against the rough stone.The moment distance opened, everything exploded.The chamber erupted into chaos. Shadows poured from the surrounding corridors — not in form of illusions, but in the form of controlled wolves. There were dozens of them. And only more came. Ronan swore sharply, his
Xavier’s POV“You don’t belong here,” I said.The words were out, but they didn’t feel like enough. They didn't change the reality of the shadow standing in front of us.Aurelian’s gaze didn’t waver. He stood with the kind of stillness that belonged to the dead. “You’re still clinging to a version of the world that was built after I was removed, Xavier.”“This world stands because of that decision,” I snapped.“No,” he said, his voice horribly calm. “This world stagnates because of it.”Ronan shifted slightly to my right, his presence a heavy weight of muscle and irritation. “You call this evolution?” He gestured toward the horizon — toward the corrupted land and the twisted, hollowed-out wolves that followed the shadow.“Yes.” There was no hesitation. Rylan’s voice cut in, colder and sharper than the rest. “You’re creating instability.”Aurelian exhaled slowly with genuine disappointment. “You’re still thinking in limits. Control is not the goal.”“Then what is?”Alara’s voice cut t
Xavier’s POVI had felt it the moment he stepped forward — a ripple in the air that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with the blood in my veins.It wasn't just power. I had faced powerful men before. It was something far more primitive.Recognition.It wasn’t mine at first. It belonged to my Lycan. Marcus hit the back of my ribs like a physical blow, his claws raking against the cage of my restraint. He didn't just growl; he roared a name I hadn't let myself think in a decade.“Stay back,” I said, the words barely a vibration in the air.I wasn't talking to Ronan or Rylan. I was talking to the monster inside me. Marcus didn’t listen. For the first time since we had crossed the threshold into this godforsaken place, he was trying to snap the leash. He pushed, hard and violent, trying to seize control.‘You know him,’ Marcus hissed, his voice a distorted echo of my own.“I don’t,” I muttered, though the lie tasted like copper in my mouth. But even as the denial left me,
Alara’s POVThe deeper we ventured, the more the world seemed to withdraw."He’s here," I whispered.No one argued over it. The air was thick with a gravity they could feel, even if they didn't share any connection with him like I did.The structure we’d glimpsed through the treeline finally revealed its true scale. It wasn't a ruin or a repurposed fortification. It was built, dark stone layered with a precision that defied nature. The edges were too sharp, the geometry too perfect to have been shaped by mortal hands.There were no guards at the entrance. No movement along the entrance, only the crushing weight of being watched."I don't like this," Ronan muttered, his hand hovering around his weapon."You're not supposed to," Rylan countered, though his own eyes were narrowed, scanning for the trap we all knew was there.Xavier remained silent, but the tension radiating off him was palpable. Marcus was clawing at the surface of his consciousness, restless and snarling, sensing a rival
Ronan’s POVI slowed my pace, my boots crunching softly on the blackened soil. Beside me, Xavier and Alara drifted a half-step forward, their bodies coiled like overwound springs. Rylan held the flank to my left, his eyes darting through the skeletal remains of the treeline."No movement," I murmured, the words barely hitching on the air."That’s the problem," Rylan replied, his voice a low grate of gravel. "Everything in these woods should be screaming right now. Instead, it’s like the forest is holding its breath."He was right. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. And yet, beneath the surface of that quiet, I felt a flicker. It wasn't a sound or a scent. It was a phantom connection — a tether of intent that didn't belong to any of us."Wait—" I started, the warning dying on my lips.They didn't emerge from the shadows; the shadows simply solidified into teeth and fur. There was no theatrical growl, no rustle of dry leaves. There was only the sudden, violent impact.A massive, grey-furr
Xavier’s POVThe land began to decay long before the visual evidence appeared.“We’re close,” Rylan murmured at my shoulder.I didn't bother responding. The confirmation was already vibrating through my body. The pull was there, but as relentless as a physical tether. With every stride forward, the thread only tightened.Deep within the cages of my mind, Marcus stirred. He was eerily focused. Alert.“She’s here.”“I know,” I breathed.The words were barely a ghost of a sound, but they were the only things keeping me grounded. Ronan moved a few paces ahead, his eyes tracking the treeline with lethal precision. His frame was a coiled spring. “This place is wrong, Xavier. Down to the dirt.”“It was made to be,” Rylan added, his voice analytical even in the face of the macabre.He was right. The terrain was uneven, stained with dark patches that looked less like burns and more like a systemic corruption.We pressed deeper into the blight, moving with the silent efficiency of a hunting pa
Alara’s POVThe stillness of the Midnight Packhouse was a lie. It was the heavy, suffocating silence that precedes a tectonic shift, the kind of quiet that makes the hairs on your neck stand up before the earth begins to scream. I had been drifting in a shallow, restless sleep, my dreams haunted by
Alara’s POVWar did not announce itself with trumpets or blood.It crept in quietly — through tightened patrol routes, sharpened weapons, and the way the Midnight Pack stopped laughing so easily.I noticed it first at dawn.The training grounds, once lively but measured, had transformed overnight.
Xavier’s POVThe first den of corrupted rogues perished precisely at dawn.Not with the common mercy of fire — fire was too quick, too clean — but with the cold, obliterating vi
Xavier’s POVBlood no longer smelled the way it used to.Once, it had been sharp — metallic, grounding. The scent of battle, of victory hard-won and earned. Now it was everywhere, clinging to my senses long after the corpses turned to ash, long after the screams faded into silence.My Lycan wanted







