Lunar Lake のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 161 - チャプター 170

162 (Kathryn’s POV) The cheering didn’t fade, it transformed. Warriors slapped the tables, calling for food and drink. The kitchen staff rushed forward with trays piled high, pitchers of beer and juice, roasted meats, bread still steaming. The packhouse filled with sound, the deep rumble of wolves celebrating, voices rising in unison. Celia tugged me toward the head table, and before I could protest, Tyler was already pulling out a chair for me. His hand lingered at my shoulder, grounding me as the noise swelled around us. Plates were piled, mugs lifted. Micah started the first howl long, deep, proud and one by one, voices joined him until the walls shook. I felt the sound vibrate in my chest, a chorus that wasn’t just noise but a promise. Pups scrambled under the tables, laughing as they wove through legs, while older wolves slapped each other’s backs, recounting the battles that had brought them here. I caught bits of stories, names spoken with reverence, scars displayed like t

164 (Kathryn’s POV) I couldn’t sit still not after hearing it. The Winter Solstice ball. For weeks it felt like everything was war councils, security sweeps, and whispers about Jaxson’s shadow. Now, finally, there was something bright to look forward to. Something normal. Something of ours. I pushed back the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My body was slower than it used to be, my center of balance shifting with the baby, but my heart felt light for the first time in ages. Tyler’s eyes tracked me, heavy with the weight he never spoke aloud. He didn’t say a word as I stood, just tightened his jaw, the way he always did when he wanted to protect me but knew he couldn’t lock me away. “I’ll find Celia,” I told him, already reaching for the robe draped across the chair. “We’ll start planning—music, decorations, food, everything.” I caught the faintest huff of air from him half exasperation, half surrender. He didn’t stop me though. He never could, not when my mind

166 (Kathryn’s POV) Celia leaned over the parchment again, sketching loops of lanterns that would hang from poles by the lakeshore. “See? It frames the moonlight perfectly.” I couldn’t help smiling. “It’ll be breathtaking.” But as I reached for another scrap of paper, movement in the hall caught my eye. Tyler stood there, half in shadow, watching us. His expression wasn’t soft like it usually was when he caught me laughing it was tight, guarded. He thought he was hiding it, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. For a second, our gazes met. His jaw clenched, then he gave a small nod and turned away, back down the hall toward the war room. Celia didn’t notice. She kept sketching, her voice bright with excitement. But I lingered on that glimpse of Tyler carrying something heavy while I sat here planning lanterns and music. I forced myself to smile again, joining Celia in her joy, but part of me kept listening for his footsteps, wondering what storm he was bracing for that he hadn’t

168 (Third party POV) The silence held for a long moment, tension coiled so tight Kate thought the air itself might snap. Jonas leaned back against the wall, a bitter smile twisting his mouth as though he thought he still had control. Tyler’s voice dropped to a quiet growl, more dangerous than any shout. “You will answer me.” His will rolled out in a wave, heavy and commanding, and Kate felt the pull of it even from where she stood outside the cell. The Alpha command pressed like a hand against her chest irresistible, suffocating. Jonas’s body convulsed, his head jerking as though he were fighting chains invisible to anyone but him. He ground his teeth, a sound of pain tearing from his throat, until finally the defiance cracked. “One,” he rasped. His eyes, burning with hate, flicked to Tyler and then away. “You want a name? Fine. Laramie.” The word hung heavy in the damp air. Micah stilled, his hands curling into fists. Camerin muttered something under his breath, too low for Ka

170 (Tyler’s POV) Two weeks had passed since I ended Laramie’s life in front of them all, and the silence that followed lingered like smoke in the air. The pack carried on their duties without complaint, but their eyes told the story their mouths would not know every movement weighed, every word measured. They walked on eggshells around me, and though I had demanded obedience before, this was something different. Fear had settled into their bones, and I hated the taste of it. I had wanted loyalty. I had wanted unity. But fear was a poor substitute, and it left a bitter sting in my chest every time one of my wolves lowered their gaze too quickly or backed out of a room I entered. In the quiet moments, I replayed all Laramie’s snarl, Jonas’s laughter, the shock on Kate’s face as I made my choice. I had done what was necessary. I would do it again, if I had to. But even necessary things leave scars. Tonight, as the moon hung low over the compound and the sounds of my restless pack d