Semua Bab The Feral Alpha’s Rejected Luna: Bab 421 - Bab 430

DianaSlowly, deliberately, the man's head comes up.A shiver runs down my spine, and every instinct I possess screams.This is a very, very dangerous man.The Dark Mage has risen.As one, the witches speak, voices filled with a reverence I've never heard from any of them before. "Lord Caedrim," they calls out.The name hits me, sinking my heart even lower. Its obvious who he is ofcourse, but hearing his name spoken out loud makes this terrible situation even more real.There is a complete transformation in the witches' demeanor. Gone is the conceit and arrogance they've shown us throughout this entire ordeal. In its place is absolute subservience.Caedrim's dark eyes sweep over the assembled witches, and impossibly, they bow even lower. One of them dares to speak again, "Welcome back, my lord."Then those terrible eyes turn toward us, and I feel my blood turn to ice in my veins.When his eyes meet mine, I take an involuntary step backward. Those dark eyes are ancient and gloomy, fill

DianaI clench my jaw and turn to fix my gaze on the witch. I continue trying to move closer, but the invisible weight pressing down on me grows heavier with each attempt. It feels like the very air has turned solid around me, like I'm trying to move through liquid concrete. My muscles strain and burn with the effort, but I manage only inches at a time.Then my knees start to buckle.The oppressive force increases dramatically, as though my struggles have triggered some kind of punishment. I fight against it with everything I have, but it's useless. The weight forces me down to one knee on the hard ground, and I'm left desperately watching as the witch moves with unhurried precision through the first outer ring of corpses.She steps carefully between the bodies of the murdered dark witches. She completely ignores the chaos of battle around her as she moves to the second ring of sacrificed humans and werewolves with the same casual indifference. She moves through that circle and then s

Eleanor"And Caedrim agreed to this?" I ask, though I already know the answer. That cruel, bloodthirsty, utterly selfish creature would never willingly accept being used as a vessel for another being's power.Rowena hisses like an angry serpent. "He should be honored to serve as a vessel for his God! It's only through our God's blessings that he obtained his power. He has no right to refuse!"I understand now that there's no point in trying to reason with her. She's gone too far down this path to turn back. As I start walking closer, my voice carries quiet determination."I will not let you do this."Rowena's smile returns, cold and confident. "You cannot stop me, Eleanor. You're not the woman you once were."Diana POVThe fight erupts without warning.Eleanor moves like liquid lightning, her form blurring as she launches herself at Rowena. For the first time, I'm seeing Eleanor as she truly is—not the weary, ancient woman who's been guiding us, but a warrior forged by centuries. She'

DianaI feel it when my soul starts to disengage from my body, that strange sensation of floating, of becoming untethered from everything that made me solid and real.But then a shout reaches me—powerful, commanding."No! I refuse! Come back NOW!"And as though his voice has power over death itself, I feel a violent jerk in my soul, in our bond. Something pulls me back with such force that it's like being struck by lightning. I gasp, my eyes flying open as my soul slams back into my body.Immediately, I feel the change. My body begins to heal itself with supernatural speed, flesh knitting together, blood flowing again. Dom's hand moves behind me, grasping the handle of the blade and pulling it free in one swift motion. The wound closes the moment the silver leaves my body, even the torn muscle of my heart mending itself whole.My eyes meet his, and the relief in his gaze is so profound it takes my breath away."Dom," I whisper."I'm here," he says, his voice rough with emotion. His ey

DianaThe flames burn for a full day and night, consuming every trace of the coven's evil. We stand and watch it all turn to ash.But even as the fire burns, our victory feels empty.Too much has been lost. Too much has been sacrificed.Natasha doesn't linger. Her impatience to return home radiates from every fiber of her being as she cradles her babies close to her chest. Within hours of the battle's end, she's already preparing for the journey back to the Silvanus pack."I need to get them home," she tells us, her voice thick with exhaustion and desperate longing. "I’ve informed my mate that they’re safe. He’s desperate to see them."---------------Back at the Amadeus pack, there are no victory parades, no celebratory feasts. There's nothing celebratory about war—only the heavy, somber atmosphere of mourning our dead.The pack cemetery stretches before us, ancient headstones marking generations of wolves who came before us. Today, we add more names to that sacred ground. Too many n