Todos os capítulos de Return of The Rejected Omega : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Viktor's office felt smaller in the daylight. I sat across from him, my mother's journal open between us, while Angela lounged by the window. The chains were gone—they didn't need them anymore. Not when they had what they really wanted."Read it," Viktor said, turning the journal toward me. "Page forty-three."My fingers trembled as I touched the paper. The ink was faded, but my mother's handwriting was clear:*The price of defiance is blood. The Goddess demands balance—a life for a life, power for power. To save my daughter, I offer myself. But the debt remains unpaid. Only the sacrifice of a Luna Priestess's bloodline can break what I've done.*"You see?" Angela's voice dripped with satisfaction. "Mother's little miracle came with strings attached. One of us has to die to fix this."I looked up from the journal. "You knew? All this time?""Not at first." She examined her manicured nails. "But I started digging after that night you shifted. The way your blood glowed? That's not norma

Getting out of Manhattan was a blur of broken glass and silver blades. Bella's chemical-enhanced wolves had torn through Veronica's office like a storm, but they hadn't expected me to jump. Twenty stories up, and I'd grabbed Angela, crashed through a window, and landed on the adjacent building's fire escape. Not my most elegant escape, but as Rona helpfully pointed out, we didn't die.'Though next time,' she grumbled as I drove us out of the city, 'maybe don't jump off buildings with the bitchy sister who tried to kill us. Just a thought.'"She's leverage," I reminded her, checking the rearview mirror for pursuit.'She's dead weight,' Rona countered. 'And if she makes one more smug comment about your modeling career being over, I vote we use her as a speed bump.'Angela sat silently in the backseat, but her smirk said enough. The handcuffs were reinforced with silver now—a gift from Veronica's surprisingly well-stocked weapons cabinet. Questions for another time.My phone rang. Silas.

The first of Viktor's altered wolves cleared our barrier with impossible speed. Its body was wrong—limbs too long, joints bending backwards, skin rippling as partial shifts cascaded across its form. One of our guards, raised his silver-loaded rifle and fired. The bullet hit center mass.The creature didn't even flinch."It's not stopping," He said, backing up. "Why isn't it—"The altered wolf's jaw unhinged, splitting its face in half. Before Mark could fire again, it had him. Teeth sank into his shoulder, through the tactical vest like it was paper. But it didn't just bite—it started shifting while its mouth was full of Mark's flesh. Fangs extended, retracted, extended again, shredding meat from bone.Mark's scream cut off in a gurgle.'Well, that's new,' Rona commented grimly. 'And disgusting. Can we kill it now?'Three more guards opened fire. Silver bullets tore through the creature's body, but it kept eating, kept shifting. Only when they finally hit its brain did it collapse.Bu

Angela's blood spread across the temple floor, mixing with the silver light from the ritual platform. The black chemicals in her system made it steam where it touched stone.'Finish it,' Rona urged, her voice straining as the ritual pulled at our connection. 'Before he—'Viktor's laugh cut her off. The sound rattled out like breaking glass. His body convulsed, muscles bulging and splitting his skin as he grew. Eight legs burst from his torso—four wolf, four human, bent at unnatural angles. His chest split vertically, revealing a second mouth lined with both fangs and human teeth. His original head remained, but the skin had peeled back, leaving exposed muscle that pulsed and shifted. Three more wolf heads emerged from his shoulders, their snouts too long, jaws unhinging to show tongues that writhed like snakes. Yellow eyes opened across his body—in his chest, along his arms, between the joints of his legs. Black veins spread from the injection ports in his neck, carrying chemicals tha

The frost on the windows glowed blue in the predawn light, jagged crystals clawing at the glass like skeletal fingers. I hadn’t slept. Couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again—the True Enemy’s void-black gaze, Viktor’s melting flesh, Silas’s blood pooling on temple stone. The fire had died hours ago, leaving the cabin air sharp with pine resin and the metallic tang of my own sweat. Andrea’s ghost flickered by the hearth, her form wavering between corporeal and smoke. She’d been silent since materializing, those moonlit eyes tracking my every twitch. I hated how she looked at me—like I was still the scrawny kid who’d cried when her first shift tore open her palms. I snapped first. “Where were you?” The words tore free, raw and serrated. Andrea’s spectral shoulders stiffened. “Stella—” “When he locked me in the cellar for three days after my first failed shift? When he sold me to that fur trader from the Iron Claw pack because I was ‘defective’?” My voice climbed, scra