Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bewitching the Alpha: Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

My hand was locked in Guilermo’s. Through the bond, I could feel his wolf pacing, agitated by the confinement. He hated being underground. He needed the sky. But he stayed calm for me, his golden energy pulsing steadily, feeding me, grounding me.We had been moving for six hours."We're close," Vesper’s voice echoed in my head, carried by the hive mind I had woven. "The roots are tasting iron. Old pipes. We're under the city.""Hold position," I commanded.The movement stopped. We hung suspended in the earth, fifty feet below Oakhaven."We need a breach point," I said. "Somewhere quiet.""The sewers," a voice suggested. "The old storm drains run right up to the Coven House foundations.""Too obvious," Guilermo said, his thought merging with mine. "They'll have wards on the drains.""What about the crypts?" I asked.A pause. Then Vesper answered."The crypts are sacred ground. Warded against the dead, but not the living. And they connect to the wine cellar.""Perfect," I said. "Take us

The span of an hour, the balance of the world had flipped. We had walked in as fugitives, hunted and desperate, and now we stood as conquerors amidst the wreckage. The air in the Great Hall was thick with the smell of ozone, scorched velvet, and the copper tang of blood. Sibal was gone, reduced to a memory and a stain on the foundry floor. Herman was subdued, encased in stone in the basement. The High Council was scattered, their authority shattered along with their windows.But victory didn't feel like triumph. It felt like exhaustion.I leaned against the remains of the heavy oak Council table, my legs trembling. The adrenaline that had fueled my siege was evaporating, leaving me hollowed out and aching. My shoulder throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and the magic in my veins felt heavy, like sediment settling in a glass."We need to find her," Guilermo said.He was standing by the shattered window, looking out into the darkness. His shirt was torn, blood drying on his arm, but he

Guilermo was burning.The energy he had absorbed from the Core Room, combined with the raw, chaotic power I had shoved into him to save his life, was too much. He wasn't just an Alpha anymore. He was a singularity.He stood in the center of the cavern, his skin glowing with veins of gold and black. His eyes were empty voids of pure power.He looked at me.And for the first time since we met, he didn't recognize me."Guilermo?" I whispered, taking a step forward.He growled.It wasn't a warning. It was the sound of a reactor reaching critical mass.He raised his hand.A shockwave of force hit me. I flew backward, slamming into the cavern wall. The stone cracked behind me.I slid to the floor, gasping for air. My ribs ached. My head spun."Guilermo, stop!" I screamed. "It's me! Lilura!"He tilted his head, like a curious animal examining prey."Lilura," he said. His voice was distorted, layered with the echoes of a thousand wolves. "The Battery.""No," I said, struggling to my feet. "Yo

Guilermo was dying.It wasn't the violent, bloody death of a soldier on the battlefield. There was no gaping wound from Sibal’s machine, no bullet hole from a mercenary’s gun. It was something far quieter, and infinitely more terrifying.He was dying because the bond was breaking.We were back in the central courtyard of the Coven House. The battle was technically over. The screams of the golems had faded, and the fires on the roof were dying down to smoldering embers that drifted into the night sky like reverse snow. The air smelled of ozone, burnt meat, and the crisp, clean scent of winter.But the real fight wasn't against an army. It was happening right in front of me, in the slushy, blood-stained snow.Guilermo lay on his back. His skin, usually flush with the heat of the Alpha fire, was turning a terrifying, translucent gray. It looked like parchment paper stretched over a skull. His chest rose and fell in jagged, shallow hitches, as if the air was refusing to enter his lungs.T

I opened my eyes.I expected the white light of the First Wolf. I expected judgment. I expected pain.Instead, I was standing in a garden.But it wasn’t the Coven garden. It wasn't the frozen, blood-stained battlefield I had just left. The grass here was green, vibrant and impossibly soft under my bare feet. The sky wasn't the gray slate of Oakhaven; it was a bruised twilight of indigo and soft lavender, dotted with stars that didn't twinkle but burned with a steady, watchful light.I looked down at my hands.They were solid. But they were different.The violet veins were gone. The black tint of the curse was gone. My skin was pale, unblemished, and ordinary.I touched my chest.There was no hum. No thrumming vibration of the Core. No gnawing hunger of the Wolf. No heavy, grounding pull of the Root.I was empty.It felt terrifying. For months, I had been a vessel. I had been full of noise, full of power, full of other people's magic. Now, I was just a cup poured out onto the grass."A