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Chapter 82
Last Updated:
2025-11-19 16:11:32
Latest chapter
The Lycan King's Werewolf Daughter Chapter 120
Griffen's Point of View The forest thins as I crest the last ridge, the pack lands opening up below me in a wide sweep of pine and stone. My truck idles for a moment before I cut the engine, the sudden quiet ringing in my ears. I sit there longer than I should, my hands tight on the steering wheel, my eyes scanning the tree line, the borders, and the paths that funnel in and out of the territory. This is it. The pattern on the map did not lie. If Maddox strikes again, it will be here. I grab my bag and step out, the air sharp and clean, nothing like the smoke and blood I have come to associate with these places. That alone twists something in my chest. They do not know what is coming. Two patrol wolves catch my scent before I even reach the main path. They appear from the trees in human form, guarded but not hostile, their eyes tracking every move I make. “I am here to see the Alpha,” I say evenly, keeping my hands visible. “My name is Griffen.” They exchange a glance be
The Lycan King's Werewolf Daughter Chapter 119
Aria's Point of View I move carefully through what is left of the storage building, a clipboard tucked under my arm, the smell of smoke still clinging to the air no matter how much time passes. I did not choose this task, but it is where I am needed, and right now that is enough. Crates are stacked unevenly along the walls, some salvaged, some newly delivered, and I take inventory one item at a time. Bandages. Antibiotics. Water. Dried food. Blankets. My pen scratches steadily against the paper, the small, ordinary sound grounding me. I force myself to focus on numbers instead of scorch marks, on lists instead of the memories that threaten to surface every time I glance outside. People move in and out around me, quiet, efficient, exhausted. Everyone here wears the same tight, and hollow look. I do not know how much time passes. Minutes blur into hours. The sun shifts in the sky, light slanting differently through the broken windows, and my legs start to ache from standing. I am
The Lycan King's Werewolf Daughter Chapter 118
Griffen's Point of View The cafeteria smells like burnt toast and coffee, but I can barely taste it. My fork scrapes lazily against the plate as I pick at scrambled eggs I do not even want to eat. I have barely slept, and my thoughts are heavy, tangled in every possible scenario Maddox could be planning next. Brandon slides into the seat across from me with his usual easy grin, but it does not reach his eyes. “Griff, you look like you are already in trouble this morning,” he says, eyeing me carefully. I lift my gaze just enough to give a faint smile. “Trouble finds me, I guess.” He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice. “Did you hear? Another pack was hit last night.” My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. My pulse picks up. “Where?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral, like it is just curiosity and not a knot of panic forming in my chest. “Silvercrest Range,” Brandon says. His expression tightens. “They said it was brutal… real bad.” I nod my head slowly, trying to mask
The Lycan King's Werewolf Daughter Chapter 117
Aria's Point of View The moment the truck slows down, I know. The air changes first, it is thick with smoke, iron, and something sour that clings to the back of my throat. The trees thin as we cross the border, and what comes into view makes my chest tighten until it hurts. Silvercrest Range is scarred. Buildings stand blackened and broken, some nothing more than skeletal frames jutting up against the pale morning sky. The ground is torn apart, deep claw marks raking through dirt and stone, scorched patches where fire kissed too long. Ash drifts lazily in the air, settling on everything like a gray shroud. Dad cuts the engine, and the sudden silence is worse than the noise of the road. I step out of the truck, my boots crunching softly against debris, and the smell hits me at full force. Burned wood. Blood. Fear. It is everywhere, soaked into the earth like it will never leave. Werewolves move through the ruins in small groups, quiet and efficient. Some carry supplies. O
The Lycan King's Werewolf Daughter Chapter 116
Leo's Point of View I am already pulling my jacket on when my phone starts ringing. The sound freezes me mid movement. I do not even have to look at the screen to know something is wrong, but I do anyway. Dad. This early. My stomach tightens instantly. I answer. “Dad?” His voice is tight, clipped, all business and no warmth. “Leo. There has been another attack.” The words land like a physical blow. My hand curls around the phone as I turn towards the window, watching early morning light creep across the academy grounds, students still asleep, blissfully unaware. “Which pack?” I ask, already bracing myself. “There is no time to get into details right now,” he says. “I am on my way to get you. Be ready.” My chest constricts. “How bad is it?” There is a pause, just long enough to tell me everything he is not saying. “Bad enough,” he answers quietly. I swallow hard, nodding my head even though he cannot see me. “I will be outside.” The call ends. I lower the ph
The Lycan King's Werewolf Daughter Chapter 115
Maddox's Point of View The map is spread across the rough wooden table, its edges curling in the damp air of the tent. I press my palm flat against it, right over the jagged lines marking the mountain range, and feel the familiar surge of certainty settle into my bones. Silvercrest Range. Rhys stands across from me, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes sharp as he studies the same markings. The camp is quiet outside, too quiet. The kind of silence that only exists before something breaks it apart. “They patrol heavy along the western ridge,” Rhys says. “Rotations change at dusk.” I nod my head slowly. I already know. I have memorized their habits, their weaknesses, the way they rely too much on terrain and not enough on instinct. “That is why we hit at sunset,” I say. My voice is calm, controlled. “When the light is low and their focus shifts. They will think the mountains are protecting them.” I drag my finger along the edge of the map, tracing a narrow pass that c
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