บททั้งหมดของ Bewitching the Alpha: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

The morning after the dinner, the Ironwood territory felt… different.The hostility hadn’t vanished, but it had shifted. It was no longer the sharp, aggressive disdain of predators looking at prey. It was the wary, respectful distance of predators looking at something that might bite back.I walked through the compound toward the training grounds. I wasn't supposed to be here. My job was done. The wards were holding. But Guilermo had insisted I stay for debriefing, which I suspected was just code for "I’m not letting you out of my sight until I’m sure Sibal isn't waiting in the bushes."The training ground was a large, flat expanse of beaten earth surrounded by towering pines. It smelled of sweat, leather, and exertion.Wolves were sparring. Some in human form, some shifted. The sound of bodies hitting the dirt, the grunts of effort, the sharp crack of wooden practice staves.And in the center of it all was Guilermo.He was shirtless. Again.Honestly, did the man not own shirts, or did

I stood by the bed, my hands hovering over Guilermo’s chest. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow and ragged. The antidote had neutralized the active poison in his blood, but the trauma to his system was severe. His body was fighting a war on two fronts: healing the massive tissue damage from the silver burn, and rebooting his paralyzed immune system."His temperature is spiking," Thelma whispered from the doorway. She was holding a basin of cool water, her face pale."It’s the fever," I said, not looking up. "His wolf is burning through his reserves trying to knit the muscle back together. If he gets too hot, he’ll cook his own brain."I placed my palm on his forehead. He was burning up. His skin was dry, radiating a heat that was almost painful to touch."I need to cool him down," I murmured. "But not too fast, or he’ll go into shock.""Ice packs?" Thelma suggested."No," I said. "Magic."I closed my eyes. I reached for the void. The cold, empty space where my power lived. Usual

I woke up alone.The bed was warm, the sheets tangled around my legs, and the scent of Guilermo was everywhere soaked into the pillows, lingering in the air like a ghost. But the Alpha himself was gone.Panic, sharp and immediate, flared in my chest.He’s gone. He regretted it. He realized I was just nothing and left.I sat up, ignoring the way my head spun. The room was bathed in the pale, misty light of dawn. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn, blocking out the worst of the sun, but I could see the dust motes dancing in the beams.My hand went to my neck. The skin there felt tender, bruised. I remembered his teeth. I remembered the heat."You're awake."The voice came from the balcony door.Guilermo was standing there, leaning against the frame. He was dressed, jeans and a fresh black t-shirt and he was holding two mugs of coffee. He looked better. The gray pallor of the silver poisoning was gone, replaced by a healthy, if tired, tan. But his eyes were guarded."You left," I said,

The clearing where the Rite of the Eclipse was held was a natural amphitheater, ancient and overgrown. In the center stood two obsidian pillars, humming with a low, discordant frequency. Between them was the tank. A sphere of null-magic that looked like a drop of ink suspended in midair.I stood on the sidelines with Thelma and Marco. The air was thick with tension. The entire pack was there, along with a delegation from the Coven. Sibal stood on the opposite side, looking smug in his white robes.Ibbie was already in the circle. She looked… unnatural. Her skin was flushed with too much color, her eyes wide and manic. Sibal had pumped her so full of borrowed magic she was practically vibrating.Guilermo stepped into the ring.He wore simple loose pants, his chest bare. He looked calm."The rules are simple," Councilman Herman announced, his voice amplified by magic. "You enter the sphere. You face your fears. The one who remains conscious the longest is the victor.""And the loser?" Ib

The Oakhaven Equinox Festival was usually my favorite night of the year.The town transformed. The gray cobblestones were hidden beneath layers of fallen leaves and sawdust. Lanterns strung between the lampposts glowed with amber light, and the air smelled of roasted chestnuts, mulled cider, and magic.For one night, the line between the human world and the magical one blurred. Witches sold herbal remedies that were really minor luck potions. Wolves, in human form, competed in strength games that no human could ever win. Even the Council relaxed their grip, allowing a truce of celebration.But this year, the festival felt like a cage.I stood at the edge of the town square, clutching a cup of cider I didn't want. The Null Stone around my neck felt heavy, a cold weight against my skin that absorbed the ambient joy of the crowd and turned it into nothing.I felt… muted.The vibrant energy of the festival. The laughter, the music, the underlying current of magic was distant. Like watching