Semua Bab Surrogate for the Alpha : Bab 51 - Bab 60

The forest swallowed Crane’s heavy steps, the air growing colder the deeper he went. His wolf ran wild beneath the canopy, paws digging into the soil as if it could claw out the confusion gnawing at his chest. He stopped by the old riverbed, where moonlight reflected faintly even in the day, panting as his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. But his mind would not quiet. Lilune. The name throbbed like a wound he thought he had buried centuries ago. Ella’s venomous tongue had dragged it back to life, and now, with Lara’s unconscious body flashing in his thoughts, everything inside him felt tangled. He shifted back into his human form, sweat dripping down his temples as his hands shook. His wolf raged, pacing restlessly in his head— mate, mate, mate— but his heart resisted, chained by memories. Crane slammed his fist into a tree, bark splintering under the force. “Damn it!” His voice cracked, raw

Lara’s lashes trembled against her cheeks. She wasn’t awake, not really — but she wasn’t lost in ordinary sleep either. Her body lay still on the bed, but her mind… her mind was somewhere else. Somewhere blurred, fragmented, voices whispering in the distance like echoes through a stone corridor. Her lips moved faintly as if answering questions that none of them could hear. Alex stood at the foot of the bed, his jaw clenched, eyes darkening as the faint shimmer of energy began to coil around her temples. Her skin glowed faintly, too warm, veins of silvery light threatening to pulse beneath her skin. “Everyone out,” he ordered sharply, his voice cutting like steel. Peter frowned, unwilling. Yousef hesitated too, for once not laughing or teasing. But the way Alex’s eyes flared left no room for argument. The air itself seemed to shiver, as if obeying. Peter was the first to step back,

Crane leaned back into the high-backed leather chair, Lilune’s faded photograph still clutched in his hand. The exhaustion of the day pressed down on him—the weight of Greyhem’s warning, Alex’s evasive answers, his own gnawing doubts. His wolf had gone quiet too, as if retreating somewhere deep inside, watching silently. The photograph trembled slightly in his fingers. Lilune’s eyes, captured forever in that frozen smile, seemed to stare back at him. Soft hair lifted by the breeze, sunlight dancing on her pale skin, wildflowers framing her like the goddess she had been to him. He closed his eyes. Just for a moment. Just long enough to rest. Darkness swallowed him. Then— The world bloomed into color. A wide meadow stretched before him, fields upon fields of wildflowers swaying under a golden sky. The air was fresh, alive, tinged with the sweet perfume of blossoms. Birds wheeled overhead, and the wind carried t

The knock was soft, but heavy. James stirred awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before dragging himself to the door. Standing there was a hulking bodyguard, broad shoulders filling the doorway, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he handed James a sealed envelope.James tore it open and scanned the neat handwriting inside.> “Breakfast. My mansion. 8 a.m. – Vince.”James frowned. Vince. The name alone pulled his stomach into knots. He was supposed to visit Maya today. He hesitated, weighing his choices until his heart pushed him toward convenience. He quickly sent a message to the caretaker watching Maya, assuring her he’d come later, then dressed sharply.The bodyguard led him across town into a part of the city James rarely visited. It was quiet, secluded, with old trees lining the road like sentries. Then the mansion appeared. Tall. Brooding. Its gates swung open at their arrival, and James couldn’t stop the thought from escaping his mind:“These rich men… none of them l

Their empire wasn’t built in a day—it grew like mold in damp walls, slow and steady until it covered everything.By their third year together, Corey and Vince owned half the gambling dens in the lower quarters, a handful of brothels that raked in coin nightly, and a growing army of men who called them boss. Merchants owed them, guards bowed in silence, and whispers followed their names wherever they went.It was on one of those nights, after sealing a profitable smuggling route through the eastern docks, that a stranger approached—a young man with slick black hair, velvet gloves, and eyes too cold for his age.Greyhem Miles.He had watched them from afar, studying how the gutter-boys turned shadows into gold. And when he extended his hand, his smile was sharp enough to cut.“Gentlemen,” he said silkily, “I believe fortune favors those bold enough to seize it. And you… you two are bold.”---Their first deal with Gre