Semua Bab THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE: Bab 81 - Bab 90

The scent of blood clung to the air like mist—thick, coppery, and wrong. Veyra's paws pounded against the forest floor, each step pushing her deeper into the chaos erupting along the eastern ridge of Moonfang territory. Trees trembled with the force of bodies crashing through them, snarls and screams lacing the air, and above it all, the howl of the possessed—a guttural, chilling sound that no wolf should ever make.The Order had struck again. But this time, it wasn't shadow beasts or weapons carved in the dark. This time, they'd come with wolves.Possessed wolves.Corrupted by blood magic, their eyes glowed an unnatural crimson. Foam frothed from their muzzles. They didn't speak. They didn't shift. They didn't think. They were rage embodied, puppets tethered to a puppeteer none of them had yet seen.Veyra, already mid-shift, didn't hesitate.Moonfire surged through her limbs as she crashed into the first of them—a massive brute twice her size. Her glowing white wolf slammed into its

Veyra's sleep was restless that night, tangled in the web of dreams. As always, they were dark and cryptic, a reflection of the chaos that stirred inside her. Her body was still, but her mind raced, locked in an endless dance of shadows and light. The familiar sensation of a presence far more powerful than anything she had encountered before lingered in the dream, like a weight on her chest.The image was clear—a pair of eyes, silver flames flickering at the edges, burning through her thoughts. A voice, like cracked stone, whispered to her, "The chains are breaking."Her breath caught in her throat. She tried to reach out, to make sense of the words, but the voice faded before she could speak. And with it, the eyes vanished, leaving her in the oppressive silence of the night.Veyra woke with a start, her pulse racing. Sweat clung to her skin, and she gasped for air, the remnants of the dream lingering like a bitter taste on her tongue.The moonlight filtered through the open window, c

The training arena echoed with the heavy thud of fists meeting flesh, the sharp crack of bone colliding with bone. Dust swirled with each violent step, kicked up from the ground beneath Rune and Zarek's boots. The others had backed off hours ago, but the tension between the two dominant wolves had only grown."You think you can control her?" Rune snarled, circling the older Alpha. His usually composed expression was twisted with fury. "You think your title makes you more to her than the rest of us?"Zarek's chest heaved. "I don't need a title to know what we are. She's mine.""Yours?" Rune spat, baring his teeth. "You want to own her? She's not some territory you can mark and guard like a savage."Zarek lunged, fists flying. The impact rang out, echoing across the silent onlookers from the surrounding corridors. Rune staggered back but recovered swiftly, launching his own blow. The two collided like storms—Alpha and Beta, hearts aflame with jealousy, pain, love.In the distance, Veyra

The stars hung low that night—fat with silver, bleeding light through the clouds like soft whispers of things yet to come. The wind carried the scent of ash and pine, the memory of what they'd seen in the Temple of Bone still clinging to Veyra's skin like cold fog. She hadn't spoken since they returned, not beyond the necessary words, not beyond the commands required to hold her spine upright.She walked barefoot through the high grass of Nightveil's edge, the fortress walls a soft hum behind her. Her cloak, woven of moon-touched wool and battle-worn resolve, dragged slightly at her heels as she climbed the narrow path toward the overlook above the northern ridge. A place she hadn't come to in years. Not since she was a girl with simpler fears.Jon was already there.He sat cross-legged on a flat stone outcrop, his cloak slung around his shoulders, his arms propped on his knees, eyes lost in the sky. He turned when she approached, the corner of his mouth lifting, but he said nothing.

Nightveil shimmered with light and life, a rare sight after so many days drenched in blood and fear.Lanterns floated above the treetops, glowing orbs tethered by enchanted string and soft hope. They bobbed like captured stars, their warm amber flicker casting shadows that danced across the clearing. The music—drums, flutes, and laughter—rose and fell in waves, weaving joy through the battered bones of a pack that had seen too much.Veyra stood barefoot at the edge of the celebration, her toes brushing cool grass, her heart still heavy beneath the layers of silk and moonlight stitched into her gown. The fabric hugged her lightly, dyed a soft dusk-blue that matched the twilight sky. Her hair was loose, curling over her shoulders, wild and silver-streaked.She hadn't smiled this much in weeks.Children twirled around her legs, shrieking with laughter as she spun them one by one, catching their tiny hands and pulling them into a dance of giggles and stumbles. The festival had been Jon's