Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 261 - Chapitre 270

The council hall was nearly silent, save for the gentle scraping of quills and the faint shuffling of parchment. Councillor Hadrian exhaled deeply and set aside his quill. His knuckles cracked as he flexed his fingers, weary from the endless ink and decisions. At his right, Councillor Margot pushed her chair back and stood. “It is late,” she murmured. “We should adjourn before dawn finds us still debating scraps of parchment.” There was a low murmur of agreement from the rest of the council. One by one, chairs groaned as the councillors prepared to leave. But before the heavy doors could be unlatched, they swung open on their own, wide and forceful. Alpha Desmond walked in. His presence filled the room instantly. He carried with him the raw, feral authority of an Alpha who was unaccustomed to waiting—or being denied. “Still here?” Desmond’s voice cut like steel through the silence. “I thought you were the ones who claimed to work swiftly in matters of the crown. Yet days pass

Becca stood in front of the mirror, staring at the unfamiliar girl staring back at her. The reflection wasn’t ugly. No, not anymore, but still, she didn’t recognize the woman in the glass. The woman in the mirror looked determined. But behind that determination lurked uncertainty which was an unease that coiled in her chest. Mira’s hands were busy rifling through the rack of garments the seamstress had sent earlier. She pulled a dress, held it against Becca’s figure, frowned, and then discarded it on the bed. She repeated the process with a second, then a third. “Nothing feels right,” Mira muttered under her breath, though loud enough for Becca to hear. “Too stiff. Too much fabric. Too bold. Too simple. Ugh!” Becca said nothing. She kept her eyes on the mirror, fingers curling into the silk belt of the robe she was wearing. She had told Eugene earlier that day. Her words were still etched into her mind like carved stone: ‘We should do it. Tonight.’ The look in his eyes when she

Kaelyn shifted uncomfortably on the cold bench, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She wasn’t sure why she had agreed to this conversation in the first place. Being in Desmond’s company, even with the moonlight softening his sharp features, always set her on edge. He was smooth, charming, dangerous—all wrapped into one man. And now Seraphina stood nearby, her presence prickling the air with tension. Desmond leaned lazily against the bench’s backrest, every inch of him exuding confidence. His dark eyes glittered as they followed Seraphina, who had stopped only a few feet away. She looked radiant, as always, her hair shining like a crown beneath the moon. Her hand rested lightly against her belly, a silent reminder to all of what she carried—the future she believed would secure Desmond’s power. Desmond pushed off the bench with grace. He strode to Seraphina, his smile devilish, his movements deliberate. Without hesitation, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into

The first touch of dawn slipped gently into Alpha Eugene’s chamber, filtering through the tall windows and spilling across the wide bed. Her eyelids fluttered open slowly and at first, she felt heavy, her body weak, as though she had just woken from the most exhausting yet blissful dream of her life. She turned her head and blinked against the brightness, her heart still swimming in the echoes of last night. Her hand moved instinctively, brushing over the cool sheets beside her. It was empty. The bed still carried the faint, intoxicating scent of him and Becca’s lips parted, then a soft sigh escaped. For a moment, she simply sat up slowly, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, the sheets slipping slightly down her chest before she clutched them quickly around herself. And then it hit her. Floods of memories crashed into her like waves: Eugene’s hands gliding over her, the way his lips had claimed hers with such devotion, the heat of his breath, the fire in his eyes. She re

The sun glowed soft and golden over the pack town, casting long rays across the streets. It was a good day for a stroll, and Alpha Eugene walked with a deliberate calm, hands clasped loosely behind his back. Beside him, Councillor Hadrian, dressed in his deep emerald cloak with silver embroidery at the sleeves, kept a measured pace. Behind them, Max walked like a silent shadow, his broad shoulders squared, sharp eyes scanning every corner. Four guards fanned out discreetly, their armor gleaming faintly in the light. Though the Alpha and the Councillor walked like old friends enjoying a casual afternoon, tension simmered beneath the surface like an ember refusing to die out. “Yesterday was turbulent,” Hadrian began, his voice carrying that blend of diplomacy and irritation that only a seasoned councilor could perfect. Eugene raised a brow. “Turbulent? That’s a gentle word for it.” Hadrian chuckled humorlessly. “You might think so once you hear it. Desmond stormed into the c