All Chapters of The Lycan King's Werewolf Daughter: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Aria's Point of View The plates are cleared away, and I find myself smiling without even realizing it. Dinner passes in a blur of laughter and easy conversation, the kind that makes time feel like it is slipping too quickly. I swirl the last of my water in my glass as Cole leans back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. “Guess we should head back before they lock the gates and leave us stranded,” he teases, standing and offering me his hand. I roll my eyes but slip my hand into his, warmth sparking at the contact. “That would be one way to make this night unforgettable.” We thank the waiter and step out into the cool evening air. The sky is brushed with fading pinks and deepening blues, stars just beginning to prick through. Cole leads me back to his car, and the ride is quiet at first, but not in an awkward way. The silence feels comfortable, filled with the memory of laughter still lingering between us. I watch the trees blur past the window, the hum of the engine steady,

Griffen's Point of View The pounding on the door rattles through the stillness of my dorm room, sharp and impatient. I drag a hand down my face, groaning. The sun’s barely cresting the horizon, pale light bleeding through the blinds, casting long stripes across the floor. I have not slept much. My mind has been a storm of thoughts about Maddox, about the last attack, about the note that led me straight into chaos. The knocking comes again, harder this time. I push off the bed and cross the room in three long strides, muttering under my breath, “Who the hell...” When I yank the door open, my words die in my throat. Aria stands there. Her eyes are bright and burning, her hair slightly disheveled, like she did not bother to tame it before marching here. The tension rolling off her hits me harder than any punch. “Aria,” I breathe, startled. “What are you...” She cuts me off, her voice clipped and fierce. “We need to talk.” Every instinct tells me to tell her no, to shu

Aria's Point of ViewThe SUV rolls to a slow stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The moment the engine cuts off, the silence hits, heavy, and unnatural. Even the birds seem to have fled this place.I push open my door, and the first thing that hits me is the smell, acrid smoke, scorched earth, and something metallic underneath it all. Blood. My stomach twists painfully, but I force myself to step out, the soles of my boots sinking into ash and dirt.The air is thick and still, as if the world itself is holding its breath.I take in what is left of the pack grounds. Buildings have been reduced to skeletal frames, their charred beams jutting up like blackened bones. The pack house, or at least what used to be the pack house, is nothing but a hollow shell now, its roof collapsed inward. Burnt furniture, shattered windows, and pieces of torn clothing litter the ground. The stench of death clings to everything.My father steps out next to me, his expression carved from stone, though

Aria's Point of View The sun hangs low by the time we finish. Its dull orange light spills over the wreckage, casting long shadows across what used to be a pack house. The air still smells of ash and blood, a thick, metallic scent that clings to my clothes no matter how many times I try to brush it off. All around me, survivors move slowly, gathering what little they have left. Some carry bags packed with whatever they could salvage, others cling to each other, silent and hollow eyed. My father stands in the center of it all, calm and steady as he gives instructions to his warriors. “Make sure the last vehicle is ready to leave within the hour,” he says to one of his men before turning back to the gathered survivors. His voice carries that same authority it always does, strong enough to steady a trembling heart. “You will be safe with Alpha Kelvin and his pack. They will take care of you until you decide where you want to go next. If any of you wish to stay in Dark Moon, you wil

Aria's Point of View The music thrums through the ground beneath my feet, the bass pulsing like a heartbeat. Students laugh and dance around the bonfire, sparks swirling up into the cool night air. Cole’s hand is warm in mine, steady, grounding, but my thoughts are anything but steady. He is talking, something about one of his classes and how his professor nearly fell asleep mid lecture. I smile when I am supposed to, laugh when he does, but it feels mechanical, forced. Every time the flames flare, I see flashes, of the wreckage, the blood, the broken pack grounds from the attack. And Griffen. I try to push the thought away, but it clings to me like smoke. His face when I confronted him earlier, the way he swore he was not part of it, the raw truth I thought I saw in his eyes… and the ache in my chest that I do not want to acknowledge. “Hey,” Cole says softly, tilting his head to look at me. “Are you okay? You have gone quiet on me.” I blink and realize I have been staring