บททั้งหมดของ The Alpha’s Forgotten Bride: บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

(Rowan's POV)I'd prayed the mountain air on the drive back would cool the flame in my blood, but it hadn't.Every mile down to the pack lands simply fed it more. By the time we pulled through the gates, Calla sleeping in the backseat with Asher curled up against her, I was burning with a barely contained rage.They had taken years from me. They had taken her. They had taken my son's starting point, his first words, his first steps. They had incinerated my memories to ash and smoke and I was left wandering about in someone else's life. And as I shed blood for them, dazed and lost, they had sat around our council chamber smiling as though they were the guardians of our people.No more.Knox stood beside the gates with three dozen warriors, their faces stern in the predawn shadows.The instant our convoy stopped, he fell into step beside me, his calmness grounding me. "They're in the holding cells," he whispered. "All of them. Elira too."I nodded once, a black, satisfied weight droppi

(Rowan’s POV)The dream would not release me. Even upon waking, its images clung to me like cobwebs, Cyrus wearing a smile that looked too much like my own, eyes far too similar, Calla bound in threads of silver that throbbed like veins and at his back, a single raven's feather falling and falling again in endless slow motion.I would have believed it was a dream brought on by sleep deprivation and sleepless nights at first.But as I held the cold lifeless fingers of Calla in mine, beside her bed, I was conscious.The seer had promised me that my mind would reach where my body could not. He had been correct.And there, in the dark of the dream, when Cyrus had lifted his hand to silence me, I’d seen a new shape behind him. Not Calla this time.A woman’s profile, her hair a pale cascade, her eyes bright with cunning.Lena.I didn't want to know, but my subconscious mind had already known it when my head finally caught up. She was the one reporting back to Cyrus on our movements.We'd al

(Calla’s POV)I was spoken to in a whisper of a blade between my lungs.I sat beside Calla's bed, holding her hand, listening to the harsh glide and rub of her breathing when Knox appeared.His scent carried the sting of outside air, pine and damp earth, bitter enough to tell me he'd run as fast as his legs would carry him to be there.His boots were plastered with mud, his hair soaked in rain and the look on his face told me whatever it was he'd brought with him, it was not good."They found her," he said on a breath.I was quiet for an instant. The words did not sink in.My heart slammed against the back of my throat like a punch and I could not bring myself to say the words out of my mouth for an instant."Lena?" My voice cracked. I hated that it cracked. "Where?"The course of Knox's eyes drifted to Calla's bruised form, to me. His jaw was hewn from granite, but his shoulders were tense, his wolf seconds from bursting forth."Among humans," he said at last. "She's been abducted by

(Rowan's POV)The days after Freya left were a watercolour smear of sameness on wet paper.I was still sitting in the same chair next to Calla's bed, her cold hand in mine, observing the feeble rise and fall of her chest.It was the only thing that was keeping me grounded. For each flailing breath she managed to take, it was one more for me. One more reason not to lose it.I told myself I'd hold it together until Freya returned. Cool was a facade. I was a storm and I seethed within me, inside of me, a storm that would burst through the stoic calm that I'd been keeping up for everyone else's sake.Knox pacing back and forth all morning. Never staying longer than a minute, admonishing get along here, get along there, always running off to check in on the patrols, always with some empty platitude that the land would embrace the reward, but whenever he hung around in the doorway, eyes darting back and forth between Calla and me, measuring how far I had strayed off into losing my temper. T

(Rowan's POV)I'd thought the worst was past us when the hunter came to our door with Lena. Her wrists were tied, her eyes blazing dark like a fox caught in the trap.From the moment she crossed the threshold into our house, the whole house changed. The air was thicker, heavier, as if Calla's displeasure had been in waiting for its maker to turn the key.We had put her in the rear study, windows shut, thick drapes closed. Not even sentries at the door could keep me in my chair. My son slept in a heap of covers beside the fire.The only unbroken beat in the room was the gentle snore that came from him. Asher would shudder and scream periodically; I'd embrace him, brush his hair, and repeatedly tell him, "Papa's here. Mama will be back right away." Words that I prayed were not a lie.The farewell smile of the hunter lingered. He materialized at dusk like a ghost in a bad dream, Lena following along behind him under his arm in the dumpy style of a merchant dumping goods.No apology made