Semua Bab Werewolf Academia; Revenge is best served cold : Bab 91 - Bab 100

MaliaAsher finally emerged from his room that morning, and I swear the entire house seemed to exhale in relief. Seeing him now, walking toward the kitchen freshly showered, his hair damp and face set in that familiar stern expression, it felt like a small victory. I stayed in the hallway, peeking around the corner as he grabbed a plate and served himself a proper meal for the first time in what felt like forever. The scrape of the fork against the plate broke the silence that had hung in the house, and it was strange how something so mundane—eating breakfast—could feel so monumental. Asher didn’t rush. He sat there, eating slowly, deliberately, like a man who had made up his mind about something. His shoulders were straighter, his movements measured. Whatever wall he had hit in those days of isolation, he had finally broken through it. But the man who sat at that table didn’t look like the same Asher I’d known before. I turned away before he could catch me staring. Moments late

Asher Knowing what really happened with my father, Victory, if you could even call it that, tasted like ash in my mouth.Jude, the person I trusted and admired for his strength and integrity, had let me down. He had manipulated me, used my grief and rage to blind me, to turn me into a weapon against my own mother.Granted, she needed to be put down, but to know he was only egging me on because he wanted her gone really hurts my feelings The truth left me stunned and every memory we shared, every lesson he had taught me, now felt tainted, poisoned by his deceit. I had been a fool, blinded by my grief, easily swayed by his carefully constructed lies. The image of Brooke's eyes filled with a shock just as I killed her flashed before me, a haunting reminder of the monster I had become under Jude's influence.I was tired of keeping to myself. I needed to talk to Jamie. He was the only one who truly understood, the only one who had witnessed the depths of my despair and the agonizing weig

AsherThe nightmare came again. Malia stood before me, her eyes filled with something I couldn’t place—was it pity? Regret? Betrayal? The words she spoke were muffled, like they were being dragged through water, but I could feel their weight. And then, without warning, she turned her back on me, walking away into the shadows. “No!” I jolted awake, my body drenched in sweat, my heart pounding in my chest. The room was still, save for the soft rustle of Malia’s breathing beside me. Her chest rose and fell with a rhythm that should have been comforting, but tonight, it wasn’t. Tonight, everything felt wrong. I wiped my face, trying to shake the nightmare from my mind, but it clung to me like a second skin. I glanced at Malia, her features serene, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me. I couldn’t stay here. Not like this. Quietly, I slipped out of bed, grabbing a robe and tying it loosely around me. The cool air of the hallway greeted me as I made my way toward the

Asher The knock on my office door came just as I was summoning the council. My pulse was still hammering after the report of the Sky Pack deaths. The sheer brutality described in the messenger’s words had left me cold, and now, with the council scattered across the packs, I was trying to get them together fast enough to address the chaos.“Come in,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.The door opened, and I immediately recognized the twin Alpha heirs of Sky Pack. Darian and Ryker Glenn—Jet’s sons, the next in line to rule the most politically aggressive pack in the kingdom. Their presence wasn’t a good sign. Darian stepped in first, his sharp blue eyes cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. His posture was perfectly composed, every movement deliberate, as if he was constantly weighing the gravity of his own existence. His neatly groomed beard and tailored leather jacket gave him the appearance of someone who had already assumed the throne, even if it technically

AsherThe next morning came far too soon. The golden rays of dawn filtered through the heavy curtains of my room, illuminating the stillness that followed the chaos of recent days. I stirred, feeling the comforting weight of Malia’s arm draped over me. For the first time in a long while, I felt at peace.That peace, however, was short-lived. A sharp knock at the door jolted me awake. Malia groaned softly but didn’t stir. I carefully untangled myself from her and slipped out of bed, pulling on a shirt as the knocking persisted. Whoever it was, they were relentless.I opened the door to find the priest standing there, his expression unusually grim. “Asher,” he said without preamble, “we need to talk.”I stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind me to avoid waking Malia. “What is it?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “This better be important.”“It is,” the priest replied, his voice low and heavy. “I sought the moon goddess for guidance last night, as we discussed.”“