جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 178

The old stone chamber reeked of damp moss and smoke. Elder werewolves, cloaked in shadows, gathered beneath the Bloodmoon crest—once a symbol of strength, now, to some, a symbol of weakness.Luka stood with his arms folded, his eyes narrowed as the eldest among them, Corvin, took the floor.“We cannot let her continue, Luka,” Corvin said in a deep gravelly voice. “This… creature Dante brought back is not the girl he once protected. She's poison cloaked in power.”Luka clenched his jaw. “Her name is Emilia. And she's the Luna—our Luna. Chosen by the Alpha.”“Chosen by his heart, not by the Moon,” a younger elder spat. “She burns anyone who dares speak against her. Have you already forgotten Elder Thorne?”Silence fell. The memory was still fresh—bones turned to ash with a flick of her wrist.“I haven’t forgotten,” Luka said quietly. “But rebellion? That’s treason.”“No, it’s survival,” Corvin replied. “She will drag us into a war we cannot win. She will destroy the pack from within.”“

The study was quiet again.The fire crackled in the hearth, casting golden light on the hardwood floors. Emilia stood by the mirror, adjusting the sleeves of her dark blouse. Dante buttoned his shirt behind her, watching her reflection. Her expression was unreadable, but her shoulders relaxed slightly in his presence.He stepped up behind her, his arms sliding around her waist.“I have a surprise for you,” he murmured against her ear.Emilia raised an eyebrow, glancing at his reflection. “A surprise?”He nodded, lips curving faintly. “Something... or someone.”Before she could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hall.Emilia straightened immediately, her instincts flaring. She turned sharply toward the door just as it creaked open — and froze.Mochi stood in the doorway.Alive. Whole.Her long sliver hair was slightly tangled, her eyes tired but steady. She stepped into the room, and for a long, breathless second, no one spoke.“Mochi...?” Emilia’s voice came o

The courtyard reeked of blood and scorched magic.Dante stumbled backward as Mara's wolf form leapt between him and the blaze of Emilia’s next spell. The impact knocked him off his feet, the heat licking his face as he landed hard against the stone floor.Mara skidded beside him, shifting back to human form, skin seared along her ribs. “She tried to kill you,” she rasped, coughing through the pain. “That was meant for you, Dante.”He could barely process her words. The only thing he saw was Emilia—her silhouette standing tall in the middle of the destruction, her eyes gleaming like twin suns of wrath.A woman on fire.And all of it—every breath of fury—was directed at him."She..." Dante shook his head, trying to deny what he'd felt. The way her magic had zeroed in on his heartbeat. There’d been no hesitation. No restraint.He clutched at his chest, the ache of their bond twisting like a knife inside him.“Dante!” Luka’s voice roared from across the battlefield. “Get out of here! We’l

The wind howled through the broken windows of the long-forgotten mansion, carrying with it the scent of decay, dust, and something older—something darker.The structure groaned beneath the weight of time, its walls cracked, its ceilings sagging with age. It was the kind of place people whispered about in passing, but never dared approach. Yet tonight, it was full. Not with laughter, not with warmth, but with hushed voices, sharpened eyes, and deadly purpose.A circle had formed inside the ruined ballroom. The chandeliers above them swayed gently, their crystals dulled by grime and the years. Shadows danced across the floor, thrown by flickering torches pinned to rusted iron sconces. They were a ragtag collection—witches with cracked fingernails and burning eyes, rogue wolves with jagged scars across their necks and backs, and others whose allegiances were harder to place.They had one thing in common: they had been waiting.One of the women, cloaked in deep crimson, stepped forward.“