All Chapters of Marked by the enemy alpha: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Red Peak Monastery loomed ahead, cloaked in fog and memories.The once-sacred ground stood in eerie silence, its broken spires clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. Moss coated every stone, and creeping vines had claimed much of the outer courtyard. The air carried the scent of old blood and damp stone—a mixture that made even seasoned warriors hesitate.Aria dismounted silently, her boots crunching against the gravel path. Behind her, a small strike team of handpicked wolves fanned out—Leif, two seers, three shadow-hunters, and ten elite warriors from allied packs.No campfires. No banners. Just purpose.They moved with ghostlike efficiency, slipping through the outer gardens and past rusted prayer bells that swayed faintly in the breeze. Every step forward was a step deeper into forgotten history.“I don’t like this place,” Leif murmured, eyes scanning the tall, vine-choked columns.“Neither do I,” Aria replied. “But our enemy does. That makes it ours to face.”They reached the

Darkfang Fortress burned with new energy.The capture of the Ember Wolf had shaken the Hollow Fang’s command structure, sending many of their cells into retreat. Yet victory’s taste was not entirely sweet—deep within the fortress’s most secure dungeon, the Ember Wolf waited, shackled in chains etched with silver runes and bound to the walls of a cell designed to drain magic.Aria stood before him now, flanked by Kael and Elder Varion, her former mentor and one of the few remaining high seers of the Moonlit Order.The Ember Wolf’s eyes glowed in the dim light, defiant despite the pain visibly coursing through him."You think you’ve won," he rasped. “You’ve only delayed the inevitable. The Moon Goddess cannot protect what she has forsaken.”Elder Varion raised an eyebrow. “Spoken like one who turned away from her long before she turned from you.”Aria stepped forward. “Your lies nearly cost this realm its soul. You desecrated the Moon Eclipse Gathering, and you burned your own kin to fu

The trees thickened as Mira moved deeper into the southern forest, every step drawing her closer to the Sanctum of Fanglight.Three days had passed since she left Darkfang Fortress. She traveled in silence, clothed in the rags of a rogue and carrying only essentials—a water flask, dried meat, a moonstone dagger wrapped in cloth, and a pendant etched with false sigils. Her scent had been masked with wolfsbane and bark oil to hide the smell of the allied packs.Now, at the edge of a cliff overlooking the valley, she saw it.The Sanctum was unlike anything she expected.Built within the broken bones of an abandoned fortress, the place had been transformed by the Hollow Fang cultists. Blood-red banners draped across crumbling towers. Carvings of twisted wolves snarled from the stone. The largest spire bore the symbol of Tharok—three jagged claw marks through a blackened moon.Torches burned with a green flame, casting a sickly glow over the snow-covered earth. In the central courtyard, do

Snow fell in silent sheets outside Darkfang Fortress, blanketing the valley in white. The forest beyond stood still and cold, as though holding its breath for what was to come.Inside the war hall, tension coiled tighter with every word spoken.Aria stood at the head of the great stone table, Mira on her right, and Kael and Elder Varion seated opposite. Behind them, a semi-circle of lieutenants and senior scouts listened in silence as the air thickened with urgency.“The Hollow Fang cult has spread faster than we feared,” Varion began, unrolling a hand-drawn map. Red ink bled across the southern and eastern territories. “These are no longer isolated sanctums. They’ve claimed six border villages under different names—False Moon, Howler’s Promise, and Red Fang Hollow. They’re recruiting heavily.”“They’re taking in the broken,” Mira added, voice steady. “The outcasts. The orphans. Anyone who’s been forgotten or left behind. They don’t see Tharok as a god of death. They see him as salvat

The snow returned heavier the next morning, falling in thick curtains over Darkfang Fortress. What should have been a peaceful scene—white rooftops, glistening treetops—was instead a solemn veil that quieted the fortress like a funeral shroud. No one spoke of it aloud, but the silence carried weight: something had shifted.Mira stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching a group of young warriors spar in pairs. Among them was one of the rescued captives—a boy named Jerrin, barely seventeen winters old, but with sharp eyes and quick hands. He moved differently than the others—light on his feet, twitchy, tense.Trauma, she thought. Or maybe something deeper.Kael approached from behind, crunching the snow underfoot. “He’s fast. Hasn’t spoken much, though.”“His soul was carved into. I felt it,” Mira replied. “He was almost gone when we pulled him out.”Kael studied the boy for a moment, then said, “You think they did something to him? More than just bloodletting and rune-burning