Semua Bab Fated To The Man Who Raised My Ex: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Someone was screaming his name, there was heat at his back, his fists kept hitting soft flesh, his anger rising with each unobstructed blow to the man beneath him. Someone rushed forward, clamping their hands around Matthias’s midsection, and dragged him off of Killian. The person yelled something in his ear, and Matthias realized it was Silas. “Dad, stop!” he was yelling, “Stop it!” Matthias huffed, his chest heaving with each breath he took. Slowly, the haze of anger began to clear from his gaze, and he began to take in the havoc he’d wreaked. All around the clearing, the pack wolves had stopped all they were doing to stare, wearing matching looks of shock and horror, some of his men had gathered round him, probably to hold him off, and some of them stood to the side, helping Killian up. Matthias dragged his gaze forward, taking in the damage he’d done to the other alpha. His nose was bleeding, staining his white shirt, there were bruises on his face that were already healing

She slept well into the morning. Cocooned in Matthias’s warm embrace, it was one of the best sleeps she’d had in a while. And sometime before daybreak, she began to dream. In the dream, she was running, the landscape was blurry and unfocused, but she could tell from the scent of grass, and the dew in the shrubbery beneath her feet, that she was in some kind of forest. It didn’t look like any of the forests she was familiar with, and she felt her heart pound in her chest as she ran, pumping with each stomp of her feet on the ground. Something moved behind her, an unfamiliar figure chasing after her. Raine pushed harder, surprised to find that with the heavy thump of fear in her chest, was also a thread of excitement. She wanted to scream and giggle in delight all at once. The shadow beneath her moved to her side, running in the trees next to her, and Raine was shocked to realize she recognized the flash of white hair, and the brief glow of bright blue eyes. Her heart beat faster,

Ronan was walking on cloud nine. Things were going splendidly. After all the trouble he’d gone through to acquire Hansel in the presence of Thalia and Malte, his father had publicly rendered to dust, painting him as the villain and catalyst of the wards collapse, and tragically the death of that poor pup. Usually, Ronan was not one to rejoice in the face of a tragedy such as this, but a win was a win. And right now, the Draven pack was boiling with all sort of negativity, and everything seemed to be pointed straight at Matthias, not even Silas had anything to say in his father’s favor. Ronan wanted to laugh. He’d had his doubts when Killian drew out the plan all those days ago, but something’d told him to go along with it, and if it fell through, there was always plan b. Thankfully, his father hadn’t disappointed. Things were going exactly as planned. While the pack boiled over at the border that morning, Ronan went in search of General Malte. He didn’t spot the man, or Thalia

Raine walked for a while after Selene disappeared, her thoughts loud and relentless, filled with doubt, warnings, and a stubborn refusal to believe anything the other woman said. The sun was high overhead now, filtered through the trees and dappling the path before her. She kept walking anyway. Her feet moved of their own accord, past the familiar trail that led to the town, veering off into a quieter path that opened into one of the many small meadows scattered across Draven territory. She used to come here as a child, long before the weight of the world sat heavy on her shoulders. There was a time when her only worry had been her next shift, or how many pies she could sneak from the kitchen without getting caught. Now there was a dead pup, a broken ward, the pack was boiling over, and for some reason she couldn’t seem to shake that dream from early this morning. She lowered herself onto a moss-covered stone, letting her fingers trail through the tall grass beside her. The worl

Everything that could possibly go wrong, had gone wrong, and for the first time in so long, Matthias didn’t know what to do about any of it. He didn’t even know where he was going to start. The air in the study was ripe with tension, thick and heavy, and solid enough to bite into and tear out. His men sat round the dialogue table, all quiet including Silas, who was usually his father’s loudest supporter. Matthias stood by the shattered window staring down at the mob below. The anger of his was an alive thing, for the first time in years, the Draven wolves had banded together in anger against their ruling alpha. None of Matthias’s predecessors had ever experienced such, he didn’t have the facilities on ground to deal with a fallout like this. It was precisely what he’d been avoiding—infighting. Someone cleared their throat from behind him, and Matthias turned to face the wolf, realizing once again that Malte’s seat was unoccupied. It was a silent move, but one that spoke volumes