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Chapter 9: The Alpha’s Rage

last update Última actualización: 2026-02-23 03:06:43

Kael returned like a storm breaking.

The great doors of the manor slammed open so hard the iron hinges groaned. Wind rushed in behind him, carrying the scent of pine, blood, and barely-leashed fury. His betas trailed at a distance, wise enough to give their Alpha space.

He found Elara in the library.

She sat by the fire, the silver necklace laid out on the low table in front of her like evidence in a trial. The green stone looked innocent in the firelight. Almost.

Kael stopped in the doorway.

His eyes went straight to the pendant.

Then to the faint red mark it had left on her skin.

Then to her face.

He crossed the room in three strides.

“Who?” The word was a growl, low, lethal.

“Elder Rowan,” she said calmly. “Delivered by Mara. She didn’t know.”

He reached for the necklace.

Elara caught his wrist.

“Don’t touch it bare-handed. It… burns. Not like fire. Like poison in the blood.”

His gaze snapped to hers.

“You wore it.”

“I thought it was a gift.” She met his eyes without flinching. “I was wrong.”

For one terrifying second, the air around him seemed to shimmer, his wolf rising so close to the surface that his pupils narrowed to slits.

Then he exhaled. Slowly. Deliberately.

He knelt in front of her, took both her hands in his.

“Are you hurt?”

“Already healing.” She turned her palm up, showing the faint silvery scar where the stone had cut her when she gripped it. “The bond helped. It fought whatever was in the stone.”

He pressed his lips to that scar, soft, reverent.

Then he stood.

“Stay here.”

“No.”

He turned.

“I said stay.”

“And I said no.” She rose. “This happened to me. I want to see his face when you ask why.”

Kael studied her for a long moment.

Then he gave one sharp nod.

They found Elder Rowan in the council chamber.

The old wolf sat at the long table, hands folded, expression serene, until Kael kicked the doors open.

Rowan rose slowly.

“Alpha. I heard there was an… incident.”

Kael crossed the room like a blade drawn from its sheath.

He stopped inches from the elder.

“Explain the necklace.”

Rowan’s gaze flicked to Elara, then back.

“A token of goodwill. To welcome your… mate.”

Kael’s hand shot out, closing around Rowan’s throat, not hard enough to choke, just enough to pin.

“The stone was laced with wolfsbane essence. Slow. Painful. Fatal to a human. You knew that.”

Rowan’s calm cracked.

“It was meant to… test her worth. If the bond was true, it would protect her. If not...”

Kael’s grip tightened.

“You tried to murder my mate. In my house. Under my roof.”

Rowan’s eyes darted to the other council members seated around the table. None moved to help him.

“The pack suffers,” Rowan rasped. “A human bride dilutes our strength. The northern packs smell weakness. You...”

Kael lifted him off the floor with one hand.

“I am the strength of this pack,” he said, voice deadly soft. “And she is mine. Touch her again, in thought, in word, in deed, and I will tear your heart out and feed it to the crows while you watch.”

He dropped Rowan.

The elder crumpled, gasping.

Kael turned to the council.

“Anyone else wish to test my patience?”

Silence.

Then Elara stepped forward.

She picked up the necklace from where Kael had dropped it.

She held it out to Rowan.

“Wear it,” she said quietly.

Rowan stared.

“Prove it’s harmless. Put it on.”

The elder’s hands shook.

He didn’t move.

Elara let the chain fall to the floor between them.

“Coward,” she whispered.

Kael’s hand found hers, squeezed once.

Then he addressed the room.

“Rowan is exiled. Effective immediately. Anyone who aids him shares his fate.”

He led Elara out.

In the corridor he stopped, pulled her into an alcove, pressed her against the wall.

His kiss was fierce, anger, relief, hunger all at once.

When he pulled back his eyes were molten silver.

“No one touches you again,” he vowed. “No one.”

She touched his cheek.

“They already did. And I’m still here.”

He rested his forehead against hers.

“You’re more dangerous than any of them realize.”

She smiled, small, fierce.

“Good.”

Because the real threat wasn’t Rowan.

It was whoever had given him the poison.

And they were still inside these walls.

Watching.

Waiting.

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