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Chapter One-Hundred and Fourty-Six: The Killing Ground

Author: Lyanna Rose
last update publish date: 2026-08-07 23:14:01

Natasha crouched behind the barricade of felled timber, her breath steady despite the ache radiating from her healing shoulder.

The bond pulsed warm in her chest.

Damien's satisfaction.

His victory.

His blood-soaked triumph bleeding through the tether like a second heartbeat.

He'd won.

She felt it in her bones.

But the relief was fleeting because the eastern tree line had gone quiet in the wrong way, and every instinct she possessed screamed that something was coming.

She turned to the warrior
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    The column stretched along the narrow forest road, Shadow Fang warriors moving in disciplined silence through the morning mist. Natasha fell into step just behind Damien's left shoulder, her stride matching his without conscious effort. The rhythm of marching was familiar, grounding, a soldier's instinct that required no thought.What required thought was the hand that settled on her waist.Damien's fingers curled against her hip, pulling her closer as they walked. Not a dramatic gesture. Subtle enough that anyone more than a few paces away might miss it. But Natasha felt it like a brand through the fabric of her shirt, warm, deliberate, possessive.She shot him a sideways glance. He was looking ahead, jaw set, blue eyes scanning the treeline with the practiced vigilance of an alpha leading his pack home. His expression betrayed nothing unusual. But his hand stayed exactly where it was."You're going to trip over a root," she said flatly."Wouldn't dream of it." His voice carried that

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  • Fated to the Shadow Alpha   Chapter One-Hundred and Fourty-Six: The Killing Ground

    Natasha crouched behind the barricade of felled timber, her breath steady despite the ache radiating from her healing shoulder.The bond pulsed warm in her chest.Damien's satisfaction.His victory.His blood-soaked triumph bleeding through the tether like a second heartbeat.He'd won.She felt it in her bones.But the relief was fleeting because the eastern tree line had gone quiet in the wrong way, and every instinct she possessed screamed that something was coming.She turned to the warrior at her left, a young man named Torin whose hands trembled on his spear."Steady," she murmured. "You don't need to be brave. You just need to hold the line."He swallowed hard and nodded.Natasha rose just enough to scan the perimeter.The traps she'd ordered were buried beneath layers of leaves and loose soil.Pits lined with sharpened stakes.Tripwires connected to swinging log flails.Coiled snares designed to catch ankles and snap bone.They stretched across the most likely approach vectors,

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