All Chapters of The Carpathian Prophecy Of Alpha's Love: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

THE HIDDEN FLAMEThe moon watched like an unblinking eye as Elara stood barefoot on the stone floor of the mountain keep, her body bruised, heart wrecked, but eyes blazing with determination.“This isn’t about prophecy anymore,” she said. “It’s about survival.”The ancient Guardian Beast had returned to slumber, promising to rise again when the final flame was called. But Elara couldn’t wait for another miracle. She needed to be ready—she needed to become the weapon, and for that, she needed him.She found Lerder in the shadows behind the ruins of the keep—alone, shirtless, a blade in hand, his movements sharp and brutal as he sliced through phantom enemies.She didn’t announce herself. She stepped into the ring of firelight and simply said. “Teach me.”He didn’t turn. “You’ve changed.”“So have you,” she said. “You walked away once.”“I wasn’t ready,” he admitted. “Now I am.”Their eyes met—raw, scarred and unfinished.“You want to fight a king?” he asked. “You want to fight fate its

THE DISCOVERY“The heart kept in the shadows always beats louder when threatened by light.”The Carpathian wind cut like glass as Elara descended the slope outside the ruined outpost. Fog clung to the pines like ancient ghosts, and her heart hadn’t stopped racing since the ritual. Something had shifted in her—In the bond. In the mountain itself.Behind her, Lerder followed in silence, his hand never far from his blade. They had returned to the fractured encampment to prepare for the march toward the Veiled Valley—but the air was wrong.Lerder spun instantly, shifting just enough for his eyes to glow amber. “Who’s there?”A figure stepped from the trees. Young, lean, eyes sharp as winter flint. Kael. A zealous enforcer from Lerder’s pack—devoted, dangerous, and once hopelessly infatuated with Elara before she was ever marked by fate.“Kael,” Lerder warned, voice low. “You shouldn’t be here.”“I could say the same,” Kael replied, smirking. “But then again, it’s not me sneaking off for s

THE MIRROR OF ANCESTRY“The truth doesn’t ask permission to ruin you.”The Iron Ridge tunnels spat them out into silence. Snow, untouched by wind. Pines that stood like sentinels. The world here was older. Watching. Listening.Elara didn’t speak. Not when Lyra stumbled behind her, dragging a wounded scout. Not when Lerder brushed her arm with that worried look he wore too often now. Not even when Anya lit the fire in the hollowed-out cave that would serve as shelter for the night.Her mind was back in the tunnel. The voice of Rhys or what was left of him. She couldn’t shake it. Not just his voice, but what came with it: cold, like dead air touching her bones. Something else rode inside him now. And it knew her name in a way only fate—of the dead—should.“You’re too quiet,” Lerder murmured beside her.She blinked. The fire crackled. His eyes were studying her like he was trying to read thoughts she hadn't written yet.“I’m fine,” she said.“You’re lying.”“I’m surviving.” “Not the sam

THE AWAKENING OF THE GUARDIAN BEAST“Some things should never be woken. Others… never should have slept.”The wind howled like a wounded god as the group crossed into the Hollow Maw—a ravine carved from ancient stone, rumored to secure the last line of defense left behind by the ancestors. The Guardian.They were heading straight into its den. Elara didn’t feel cold. Not anymore, nott with the heat of her vision still simmering behind her eyes—Rhys, smiling with Malak’s hunger for war. Lerder was burning. She hadn’t told him, not yet. But her knuckles were white around her blade.“We shouldn’t be here,” Kael muttered, eyeing the walls that seemed to breathe. “There’s a reason even the spirits don’t whisper in this place.”“They’re afraid,” Lyra said, scanning the carved runes. “And so should we be.”Anya dropped to her knees near a pillar etched with sigils. “It’s a lock. Old magic. Sealed by bloodlines.”Elara knelt beside her. “Mine?”“No,” Anya said, tracing the pattern. “I—It is H

THE DISCOVERED BOOK“Some truths hide in plain sight. Others bury themselves in blood.”The scent of old paper and forgotten stories hung heavy in the air.Dust curled through beams of light slicing in from the shuttered windows of Lyra’s old bookshop, a crooked structure tucked into the slope of the forgotten village of Serrowell. Everything creaked—from the warped floorboards to the ceiling that seemed to sigh under the weight of secrets.Elara stepped over a toppled stack of manuscripts, her fingertips brushing along a shelf warped by time. “This place feels alive,” she murmured.“It is,” Lyra said from across the room. “Books are memory. And mine? They never forget.”Lerder stayed close to the door, senses sharp, eyes flicking toward every groan in the wood. He hadn’t relaxed once since they entered the village. Not since Rhys’s sacrifice. Not since Elara touched the blade and the sky listened.“Why here?” he asked. “Why this village?”Lyra crossed the room and pulled a worn leath