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Chapter 128 — The Shadow Wolf.
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2026-01-01 01:56:22
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Claimed by the wolves. Chapter 129 — Bloodlines and Betrayal.
Juliette’s POV:The sigil did not fade.Even after the wolf vanished into the forest, even after the air slowly loosened its grip around my lungs, the mark he carved into the stone remained sharp and alive. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat that did not belong to the land but had claimed it anyway.I crouched in front of it, fingers hovering inches above the etched lines.Do not touch it, the Warrior warned immediately. This mark is bound to blood and authority. Contact would invite recognition.“Recognition by who,” Bryan asked, voice low.I swallowed. “By him.”Dorian shifted beside me, his stance rigid. “You are sure this is the Heir’s symbol.”“I’m sure,” I said quietly. “I have seen fragments of it before. In old Blackridge records. In blood sealed archives Rowan never let anyone touch.”The name hung between us like a blade.Rowan.The forest creaked softly around us, branches swaying even though there was no wind. I could feel the pack’s unease ripple outward, every wolf with
Claimed by the wolves. Chapter 128 — The Shadow Wolf.
Juliette’s POV:The forest did not breathe.It waited.Every instinct in me screamed that we were no longer alone, that the moment had crossed from observation into confrontation.The air felt tighter, charged, as though the land itself had drawn a line and was watching to see who would step across it first.I did not move.Neither did the shadow watching me.I could feel him now with unsettling clarity.Not just his presence but his restraint.His control. He was close enough that I could almost map his outline in my mind, yet disciplined enough to remain unseen. That alone told me everything I needed to know.This was no rogue.This was no reckless scout.This was a wolf trained to wait.“Juliette,” Dorian murmured behind me, barely moving his lips. “Say the word.”The Warrior’s presence pressed heavier against my awareness, not alarmed but sharpened, like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath. Do not strike first, he advised. This one was taught restraint. Let him reveal himself.I
Claimed by the wolves. Chapter 127 — Signs of the Heir
Juliette’s POV:The scent lingered long after the Warrior’s howl faded.It clung to the wind, sharp and controlled, threaded with something that made my blood hum in recognition.Not Rowan. Not the scout.Something else.The hidden brother’s presence felt deliberate, measured, like a hand placed just close enough to touch without making contact.“He crossed the boundary,” Bryan murmured beside me, crouching low as he examined the disturbed earth. “No rush. No struggle. Whoever this is, he wanted to be noticed.”“Or counted,” Dorian added. His gaze swept the tree line, calculating. “Claims don’t always start with violence.”The Warrior’s presence pulsed in my chest, steady but alert. Yes, he confirmed. These are not attacks.These are markers. He is saying: I am here. I remember. This land still knows my blood.We moved along the outer perimeter of Blackridge territory at dawn, the forest hushed beneath the pale light. That was when we saw the first sigil.It was carved into the trunk
Claimed by the wolves. Chapter 126 — The Hidden Brother
Juliette’s POVThe forest was quieter now, but that quiet carried a weight I couldn’t shake. Even as the mist lifted and sunlight streaked through the branches, I could feel the pulse of something watching, something tied to the blood I had only begun to understand. The howl I had heard at the edge of the Blackridge forest yesterday still lingered in my mind—a warning, a challenge, a herald of things to come.Dorian and Bryan flanked me as always, their steps measured, silent, eyes scanning every shadow. The Warrior’s presence throbbed in my mind, constant and steady, a tether that kept me grounded even as the unknown stretched before us like a dark, living thread. “Stay alert,” he whispered, though his voice felt more like a vibration than sound. “There is more to see… more to understand.”We moved deeper into the forest, following the faint traces of the Heir’s scout. It was subtle—broken twigs, displaced leaves, faint footprints in damp soil—but with the Warrior guiding me, it was
Claimed by the wolves. Chapter 125 — Bloodline Echoes
Juliette’s POVThe forest had a weight today, an almost tangible tension that pressed down on every leaf, every root, every whisper of wind. I followed the trail of the sigil, now faint but insistent, its pull threading through the trees like a current only my senses could trace. The Warrior’s presence hummed in my mind, steady, unwavering, guiding me. I could feel him both here and at the pack’s territory, his vigilance spanning the distance, his pulse echoing reassurance that the Blackridge wolves were safe—for now.The air thickened as we went deeper into the forest. Each step seemed deliberate, measured, yet even my heightened instincts recognized the subtle ripples of disturbance in the surroundings. Roots twisted underfoot like serpents, moss hid the earth’s irregularities, and the branches above stretched into a tangled web that threatened to ensnare the unwary. But this was no ordinary hunt, no ordinary pursuit. The sigil’s pull was subtle yet insistent. It whispered of blood,
Claimed by the wolves. Chapter 124 — The Heir’s Mark.
Juliette’s POVThe morning air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, the forest alive with birdsong and the subtle hum of hidden creatures moving through the underbrush. I had been tracing the faint trail of the Shadow Wolf’s presence for hours, my senses keyed to the Warrior’s spiritual guidance. Even after yesterday’s intense training, my muscles were taut, my reflexes sharp, and my mind alert to every tremor in the ground, every shift in the wind.The sigil appeared first as a faint shimmer among the roots of a centuries-old oak. My heart skipped. I had seen it before—on the Shadow Wolf, on broken training dummies, even in the wake of Rowan’s chaotic plans. Yet this time, it was closer to our territory, almost taunting, like a deliberate signature left for me alone. I crouched low, fingers brushing the mossy ground near the carved mark. The sigil pulsed faintly, and my breath caught.“Juliette,” the Warrior’s presence whispered in my mind, a subtle vibration that steadied my
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