All Chapters of Fractured Mate: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Yeah, the night was a mess. Smoke everywhere, thick enough to choke on, and that tension? You could slice it with a claw. In the middle of it all, this bonfire kept spitting shadows up the trees, lighting up a bunch of rough-looking wolves—rogues, the lot of them. These weren’t your storybook heroes or noble pack members. Nah, these were the leftovers, the ones who’d spent most of their lives dodging trouble or scrapping for a scrap of territory no one else wanted.They hung around the fire in awkward little clusters. Suspicious, jumpy, a few looked like they’d bolt if you sneezed too loud. Definitely not a team. Just a bunch of misfits, all carrying their own stories on their faces—some scars you could see, others you just felt.Off to the side, just outside the fire’s reach, stood Evangeline. Arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes sharp as broken glass. She could feel the chaos in the air—everyone edgy, twitchy. No loyalty here. No unity. And Silas, of course, had decided tonight was the nig

Word had spread like wildfire.She shifted. Alone. And survived.Evangeline’s first real shift—alone, no mate, not a soul watching her back, just her and the moon hanging up there like a spotlight—honestly, it sounded like total myth material. Except, well, the rogues actually saw it. So, you know, maybe not such a fairy tale after all. The same rogues now rallying behind her banner.Kieran heard the whispers by morning.He stood at the edge of the Blackfang stronghold, overlooking the shadowed woods below, a bitter wind curling through the trees. The night had grown teeth.Behind him, Elias approached, flanked by two enforcers.“We confirmed it,” Elias said. “She shifted under the full moon. The rogue Luna lives.”Kieran’s fingers tightened around the iron railing.“And?” he asked coldly.“One of ours leaked the details,” Elias continued. “Her timing. Her location. That’s how she made it through the night untouched. They protected her.”Kieran didn’t answer. His mind was already raci

The whole forest smelled different. Not that stale, old pine—something rawer, like sweat, metal, and fear. Wolves drifted in from everywhere, alone or in scraggly packs, slinking toward RedHowl’s borders with their noses twitching, eyes darting. Some came from the salt-blasted coast, others from burnt-out city skeletons. A few just crawled out of the wild, looking like they barely outran death.All of ’em chasing the same rumor. The rogue Luna is real. And she’s stirring up trouble.Evangeline waited at the southern line, boots in mud, watching Silas and a few sentries block a group of newcomers. About ten of them. Mangy, hungry, clutching rusty blades or just their own teeth.One woman stepped forward—tall, gaunt, braids tangled with tiny bones. The kind of look that says, “Yeah, I’ve eaten worse than you.”“I’m Caelin,” she croaked. “Word is, you don’t care about bloodlines. Just loyalty.”Silas just crossed his arms, all business. “Where’d you come from?”“Nowhere,” she said. “And

Blackfang’s great hall? Yeah, “great” is one word for it—mostly it’s just this enormous, echoey cave hacked into stone so old you can practically smell the ghosts. Cold as hell, too. Banners in black and crimson hang from pillars that look like they could squash you flat, all draped in the drama of blood and old grudges. The torches along the walls are trying their best, but the shadows? Oh, they’re winning. They slither and twitch over the faces crammed below, making everyone look twice as haunted.You’ve got wolves everywhere, lined up like soldiers about to eat their own. Can’t even see the floor for all the boots and claws. Every eye is glued to the dais up front—Kieran’s little throne moment. He’s got the full regalia thing going on: black leather, silver stitching, some chunky amulet that probably weighs as much as his guilt. Dude’s eyes are sharp enough to cut glass. No one’s about to tell him he looks nervous, but let’s be real—he’s only human. Well. You get it.Right next to

Dawn couldn’t be bothered—just kinda smeared itself over the busted-up peaks of Blackfang land like it was hungover or something. Made the whole place look even nastier, if that’s possible. Kieran was already up top, balanced on an ugly hunk of stone, staring at the horizon like he was trying to set it on fire with his eyeballs.Down below, his wolves—the Blackfang crew, all muscle and attitude—bunched up like someone had punched a bruise right into the land. The air? Absolutely humming with nerves and tension, stinking of pine, sweat, and that sharp, bloody tang of steel.Today wasn’t your run-of-the-mill morning. Nope. This was it.War wasn’t just knocking—it had kicked the damn door in.The pack moved below, all sharp and tight, armor throwing little sun-daggers everywhere. Kieran’s voice sliced through the racket like a blade—steady, loud, no-nonsense.“Listen up! We ain’t just fighting for turf. This is survival. Our pack, our name, our future. RedHowl rogues? Crawled outta whate