Semua Bab Tides of Passion: The Pirate's Curse: Bab 21 - Bab 30

The captain's quarters lay shrouded in shadows, the only light seeping through a crack in the wooden planks overhead. Amelia's heart was a steady drumbeat as she rifled through the musty papers and navigational tools that cluttered the heavy oak desk. She could feel the eyes of her crew and their unlikely werewolf allies on her; they were all desperate for a sign, any indication that their cursed plight might come to an end."Nothing but old charts and letters," grumbled one of the sailors, his voice tinged with disappointment."Keep looking," Amelia urged, her fingers brushing over the leather-bound logs and faded ink. "There has to be something here."As if summoned by her determination, her hand snagged on a corner of parchment wedged beneath the desk blotter. With a sharp tug, she freed it, unfolding the brittle material to reveal an intricate map dotted with symbols and a route that trailed off into uncharted territories."By the gods..." Her breath hitched as she absorbed the de

The night lay silent under the silvered caress of the moonlight. Amelia's gaze followed the dappled light as on the forest floor as it filtered through the trees. The warmth of the day now faded into a cool night surrounded by a soothing whisper of an unseen breeze and soft footfalls of small animals who made the dark their home. She wrapped her arms around herself, not just for warmth but for a semblance of comfort as she wrestled with the tumult within. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" Lucas's voice broke through the quiet, pulling her from her reverie. She turned to find him leaning casually against a tree, his posture relaxed but his eyes—an intense shade of silver-blue—locked on her with an earnestness that made her heart skip a beat. "It is," she agreed, forcing her tone to remain steady. "Amelia..." His voice trailed off, and when he pushed away from the large tree to face her fully, there was an unfamiliar hesitancy in his movements. "Lucas? What's wrong?" The concern came

Amelia's boots echoed on the wooden planks of the ship as she strode into the central gathering space, an open area below deck lit by flickering torches. Her chestnut hair was tied back, and her piercing blue eyes scanned the motley assembly of sailors and werewolves that crowded the room. The air was thick with tension, a palpable current that seemed to crackle in the dim light. "Listen up," Amelia called out, her voice carrying over the murmurs. "There's a traitor among us. We must find them—quickly." The chatter ceased instantly, all eyes turning toward her. She stood confidently, despite the weight of the situation, embodying the strength of a leader born and bred for moments like these. "Gabriel's pack and my crew," she continued, "we're in this together. I trust each one of you, and I need your help. We have to act fast." Gabriel Blackthorne, the alpha, stood beside her, his tall frame and muscular build a silent testament to his strength. His green eyes, usually calm and as

Steel clashed against steel in a cacophony of desperation, the moon overhead casting an eerie glow on the battlefield. Amelia Knight's chestnut hair was slick with sweat as she parried and thrust, her sword finding the gaps in her foes' armor with practiced precision. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, the crack of pistols punctuating the night like deadly percussion. "Circle formation!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the melee, searching for her allies amid the fray. Werewolves from her pack leaped and snarled, their forms blurred between man and beast as they unleashed their supernatural fury upon Captain Drago's forces. "Amelia, watch your back!" Gabriel Blackthorne's deep voice boomed as he lunged forward, his massive form shielding her from a rival wolf's assault. His green eyes flashed under the moonlight, his protective stance unwavering despite the danger that surrounded them.

The dawn painted the sky in hues of fire, casting a glow on the restless sea before them. Amelia Knight stood atop the craggy cliff, her chestnut hair whipped by the wind, her piercing blue eyes scanning the horizon. Beside her, Gabriel Blackthorne, his presence like an ancient oak, surveyed the gathered warriors with piercing green eyes that missed nothing. "Ready the archers!" Amelia's voice cut through the morning air, commanding and resolute. "We need eyes sharp as blades and arrows swifter than the serpents' strike." Gabriel's growl underscored her words, low and rumbling as he turned to his pack, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried over the cliffs like a thunderclap. "Shield bearers to the front. We stand as one today, for our land, for our kin!" Men and women clad in leather and chainmail hustled into formation, while werewolves, their forms hulking and powerful even in human guise, took their places, teeth bared again