All Chapters of Wolf's Bane: Moonlit Forbidden: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

Reyes’s teeth found his injured shoulder, the very spot where the poisoned arrow had once sunk deep. Triston let out a howl of pain as the bite tore into old wounds, his front leg buckling slightly. Blood bloomed fast and thick over his fur. The Nyxorian Alpha didn’t relent. He tore again, shaking his head like a predator trying to rip a limb from bone. Triston’s body slammed into the earth, a snarl of fury ripped from his throat. Reyes loomed, dominance momentarily flashing in his coal-black eyes. But he had underestimated the fire in his opponent. He stepped in for the final strike— And Triston surged. With a primal roar, the Elyrian Alpha twisted, hind legs digging into the dirt, and launched upward. His jaws closed around Reyes’s throat—not deep enough to kill, but enough to lift and slam him sideways. Reyes hit the ground hard. Triston followed, claws raking over his ribs, driving him back with a series of savage, precise bites. He was no longer fighting just to win. He was fig

Ivone sat in the corner of the cold dungeon, her back pressed to the damp stone wall, knees tucked to her chest. The torches lining the corridor outside flickered wearily, casting long, flickering shadows through the bars of her cell. The silence was thick, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the ceiling or the distant shuffle of guards. But her mind wasn’t in the dungeon. It was in the library, lost in scrolls and ink and secrets far too heavy for parchment to bear. Annora Thorold, a princess of Elyria. The name lingered in her thoughts like smoke, but what had shaken her most was not the name itself, but the fact that it was written into Nyxorian history. Both kingdoms had always been fractured, tangled in blood and politics, their borders drawn more in war than peace. So why had an Elyrian royal been recorded in Nyxoria’s scrolls? And why had someone deliberately hidden the details of her death? She remembered the scroll’s edge, darkened by smudged ink. It had been

Reyes finally turned his head to her, that smirk lingering. “And here I was, thinking you’d cry over me when you saw the bandages.”She raised a brow. “I doubt I would have cried even if you were brought back with much worse injuries. Or dead..”"Look at that! Did you hear her speak, Reyes?!" Zina scoffed, “She’s a traitor. A spy. And you’re letting her stand here and—”“Zina,” Reyes cut in sharply, his voice firm, “leave.”“What?”“I need to speak with Ivone.”Zina's mouth opened, her eyes widening in disbelief. “But I—”“Now.” He didn’t yell. He didn’t snarl. But the authority in his voice made even the guards at the door stiffen.Zina hesitated, shooting one last poisonous glare at Ivone, then turned on her heel and stormed out, the door slamming behind her. Silence fell. Reyes turned back to Ivone, his expression unreadable now. Only the faintest glint of something—relief? regret? longing?—touched his eyes."Zina claims you’re a spy—sent by Triston," He said, his voice measured, b

Triston's hands flexed into fists at his sides, the veins in his forearms taut, trembling with restrained power. Let him try. He didn’t care that his shoulder was still raw and aching, he didn’t care that his right hand hadn’t fully healed. Let the gods bear witness, he wouldn’t wait for his body to mend. He would ride out with the full weight of Elyria behind him. He would tear through Nyxoria like a reckoning. Reyes would be brought to his knees, and then to his grave. And only then would Triston breathe easy again. Revin glanced up from the makeshift war table, where maps and figures marked routes of attack. His eyes were calm, but wary. “He knows what she means to you." he said carefully, "That’s why he knows he can use her. He knows she’s your weakness.” “My only weakness,” he said softly. Triston didn’t look at him, but the air around him shifted—denser now, darker. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, his breathing deepened like a storm held barely in check, growing heavier,

Dathan looked at him carefully. “And is she?” A long silence followed. “I don’t know,” Reyes murmured. “But she’s the only thing keeping me from slaughtering them all where they stand. The question is… will she be the reason I win this war—or the reason I lose it?” Dathan leaned forward, resting both hands on the table. “Then don’t let her distract you, Alpha. If she’s your weakness, make her your weapon.” “Triston is not here just for vengeance,” Reyes muttered. “He’s here for her. He’d burn every inch of Nyxoria to the ground just to get her back.” Dathan’s expression darkened, lips pressing into a grim line. “And that makes him dangerous.” “No,” Reyes said, stepping back from the table and lifting his goblet again. “It makes him predictable.” He took a long sip of wine, then set the goblet down with more force than necessary. “Men who fight for love are easy to corner. All you have to do is dangle the thing they care about in front of them and wait for them to fall into thei