Semua Bab Fated To The Man Who Raised My Ex: Bab 131 - Bab 140

Her skin was warm beneath his hands, flushed and glowing in the amber light of the fire. Raine arched beneath him, her fingers threading through his hair as he pressed kisses along the curve of her throat. She tasted like honey and rain, like everything good he'd ever wanted and never deserved. "Matthias," she whispered, and her voice was a breathless moan, desperate in the way that made his chest tighten with fierce possession. "Please..." He pulled back to look at her, drinking in the sight of her face soft with desire, her lips parted and swollen from his kisses. The swell of her belly pressed between them, their child growing strong beneath her heart. Perfect. She was perfect, and she was his, and nothing would ever take her away from him again. "I love you," he murmured against her ear, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you both so much." Her smile was radiant, transforming her face into something ethereal. "I know," she said, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I love you too

Panic flooded Raine's system as she looked around wildly for somewhere to hide the journal. The fire crackled widely in its hearth, and she stared longingly into the flames. She could burn the journal, destroy the evidence before he realized what she'd discovered. But her hands were shaking too badly to manage the simple task of throwing it into the flames. The front door opened with its usual soft click. "Raine?" Killian's voice was warm, concerned, the perfect mimicry of a man who cared about her wellbeing. "I brought dinner. I thought you might be hungry." She shoved the journal behind the couch cushions, praying he wouldn't notice her suspicious behavior. "I'm fine," she called back, hating how her voice cracked on the words. "Are you?" He appeared in the doorway, and Raine felt her blood turn to ice at the sight of him. The same handsome face, the same elegant bearing, but now she could see what she'd been blind to before, the calculating coldness in his pale eyes, the preda

The Draven guards found her collapsed against a pine tree just inside their border some minutes later, her bag clutched to her chest like a shield. Blood had dried on her lips from where she'd bitten her tongue during Killian's assault, and the bruises on her throat had darkened to an ugly purple. Usually, it would have healed up by now, but Killian was a stupidly strong bastard, and the only reason she was still alive was because she was an alpha too. But she looked like exactly what she was, a broken woman with nowhere left to run. "Luna Voss?" The younger guard's voice cracked with surprise. "What are you—" "I need to see Matthias Draven," she rasped, each word scraping against her damaged throat like broken glass as she pushed her self to her feet with considerable effort. "It's about his son, and it’s about Raine Whitmore." The name worked like magic. Within minutes she was being escorted through the Draven compound, past wolves who stared at her with undisguised hostility a

The message came at dawn, delivered by a crow that landed on Ronan's windowsill. He'd been awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and replaying his last conversation with Killian, trying to parse meaning from the Voss Alpha's threats and calculating smiles. The pack will follow strength, Killian had said. Whoever can restore order when Matthias falls. At the time, Ronan had assumed he meant him. Now, as he unfolded the brief note tied to the crow's leg, he felt doubt creeping up his spine. Pack meeting tonight. All wolves required to attend. Important announcements regarding leadership transition. - K Ronan crushed the note in his fist, his wolf snarling with unease. Something was wrong here. Something had changed in the hours since their meeting, and Killian hadn't bothered to inform his supposed ally. He dressed quickly and made his way through the Draven compound, noting the unusual activity for such an early hour. Wolves were gathered in small groups, whispering among themse

The snow fell in thick, lazy flakes as Ronan tracked Killian's scent through the forest, his bare feet leaving bloody prints in the pristine white. He'd been walking for three days without rest, without food, without purpose beyond the burning need to find the man who'd destroyed his life. His exile clothes were torn and filthy, his face gaunt with hunger and exhaustion. But the rage that had sustained him through his banishment burned hotter than ever, a white-hot core of fury that kept him moving when his body screamed for rest. He found Killian exactly where he'd expected—in the neutral territory between their packs, sitting calmly on a fallen log as if he'd been waiting. The Voss Alpha looked immaculate as always, his dark coat pristine, not a silver hair out of place. He didn't even look up when Ronan emerged from the tree line like a specter of vengeance. "Punctual as always," Killian observed, finally lifting his pale eyes to meet Ronan's burning gaze. "Though I must say, ex