บททั้งหมดของ Rise of the Phoenix Wolf: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

OCTAVIA. Hours slipped by in a haze of exhaustion, tension, and relentless determination.The clearing never truly quieted. Warriors and investigators continued combing through every inch of the scene beneath harsh portable lights, even long after they had carefully transported the girl’s body back to the pack for identification.The forest glowed in cold white beams as evidence markers dotted the ground like tiny warning signs. No one wanted to miss anything.Not after this.Forensic teams collected fibers from the bark where the girl had been pinned. Soil samples. Blood samples. Trace residue from the blackened demonic magic staining the clearing. Every footprint was photographed before being cast. Every broken branch was catalogued.The smell of damp earth and blood clung stubbornly to the air.Storm hated it, and so did I.Back at the packhouse, the tech team had converted one of the conference rooms into a command center. Screens lined the walls, displaying maps, timelines, and p

OCTAVIA.The moment I saw June chained to that chair, something inside me broke.The warehouse vanished around me. The gunfire became distant. The shouting faded into background noise. Even Alpha Richard ceased to exist for a few precious seconds.All I could see was her.Her wrists were bound so tightly that angry red marks cut deep into her skin. One side of her face was swollen. Dried blood stained the collar of her shirt. Tears tracked silently down her cheeks as she looked at us, her eyes holding a fear that should never have been there.A crushing weight settled on my chest. This should never have happened. I had sworn to protect our pack members. That was the promise I had made when I accepted my role. It wasn't about power or titles or respect. It was about responsibility. About ensuring that every member of this pack had someone willing to stand between them and the darkness.And yet June was chained to a chair, bruised and terrified.‘This isn’t our fault,’ Storm growled.Was

STORM. The forest blurred around me, a watercolor painting smeared by speed and moonlight.Silver light spilled through the canopy in scattered ribbons, transforming the world into something primal and ancient—all shadow and luminescence, darkness and gleam. Fallen leaves exploded beneath my paws as I flew through the woods, my body a perfect instrument of muscle and instinct, stretching and contracting with a power that sang through my bones.This was freedom.No walls pressing in on all sides. No responsibilities weighing down my shoulders like stones. No enemies circling with knives hidden behind smiles. Just the hunt thrumming in my blood. Just the run that made my heart feel too large for my chest. Just the wild, untamed joy of being exactly what I was meant to be.The cool night air rushed through my fur, carrying a symphony of scents that painted the darkness in vivid detail. Pine sharp enough to sting. Moss, thick and green and alive. Damp earth, which was rich with decay and

ROMAN. I had spent most of my life learning how to stand tall when everyone else needed someone to lean on.Strength wasn't something that came naturally. Not to me, not to anyone who'd earned it honestly. It was something forged in fire and failure, tempered by loss, earned through blood. Every scar on my body carried a lesson etched in pain. Every battle left behind knowledge written in the language of survival. Every mistake carved another piece of the Alpha I eventually became.For years, I had led the Blazing Fire Pack through storms that would have shattered lesser bonds. Protected them when protection meant standing between my people and annihilation. Guided them when the path forward disappeared into darkness.Fought for them when fighting was the only language our enemies understood.I had stood before angry crowds with violence crackling in the air and delivered truths they didn't want to hear, my voice steady even as their fury pressed against me like a physical force. I ha

OCTAVIA. I was prepared. Or at least, as prepared as anyone could be before marching into a vampire king's stronghold. The difference mattered.Preparation didn't eliminate uncertainty. It simply gave you the best chance of surviving it.I'd spent the last week studying whatever small amount of information we had on the castle's layout until it was burned into my memory. We'd planned for ambushes, hidden passages, escape routes, magical defenses. We'd drilled worst-case scenarios until everyone knew their role without thinking. Until muscle memory replaced hesitation.We had nearly a thousand warriors, powerful allies, and a solid plan.On paper, we had every advantage we could reasonably ask for.Yet standing just beyond the portal, staring at Vladimir's castle beneath the light of the full moon, a knot settled quietly in my stomach.I was nervous, and that realization surprised me. Not because I believed I was fearless. Only an idiot walked into war without feeling anything. But beca