Semua Bab Beast Billionaire Claim : Bab 141 - Bab 150

The Vale smelled of wet stone and cinders. Smoke still drifted in slow, bitter curls from the shattered spires, carrying the sting of a war that refused to end even in silence. Maxim stepped across a blackened courtyard, his boots sinking into soot that once paved the grand approach to the palace. Each step left a print, a brief shape before wind and ash swallowed it whole. The Beast inside him prowled at the edges of his thoughts, restless but subdued, as if the ruins themselves demanded a quieter kind of rage.Zara walked beside him, her cloak brushing against fallen beams streaked with moonlight. She kept her hand near his, not clinging, just close enough for warmth. Neither spoke for a long while. Words felt too small for the ghosts that lingered here.A cracked archway opened into the palace’s central hall—or what remained of it. The marble floor was fractured like a spider’s web. Light from the waning moon poured through a hole in the ceiling, silvering the wreckage. Maxim pause

The night smelled of damp stone and scorched metal, a reminder that even after weeks of rebuilding, the Vale still bled in places no magic could seal. Maxim walked the fractured courtyard where the Hollow’s fortress once stood, boots sinking slightly into ash-soft earth. Moonlight slid through jagged beams of half-toppled walls, silvering the debris like frost. Every breath he drew carried the ghost of the war—blood, smoke, the faint iron tang of things that refused to die.Zara walked beside him, her coat brushing the soot with each step. Her presence grounded him, but it did not quiet the hum beneath his skin. The Beast stirred, restless. Tonight the air itself felt alive, thick with a charge that didn’t belong to moon or earth.“Do you hear that?” she asked, voice low.Maxim stopped. At first there was only the echo of their footsteps fading into the ruins. Then it came: a faint whisper threading the cracks in the stone. Not words, not quite, more like breath curling against the ed

The moon hung low and swollen, a molten disc over the scarred Vale. Its light spilled across the fractured city like silver water, softening the black skeletons of broken towers. Zara stood at the edge of the crater that had once been the Hollow’s temple and felt the restless pull of magic threading through the ground. The wind carried the faint tang of ash, but beneath it she smelled something older—rich earth and the sharp musk of wolf. The world was trying to knit itself back together, but the wound was deep.Maxim waited behind her, his heavy steps a quiet drumbeat in the hush. “The council wants an answer by dawn,” he said. His voice held the weight of stone, but she heard the rasp beneath. Even now, he hid pain behind command.“They want a treaty,” Zara murmured. “And a savior to sign it.”“They want a Vale that doesn’t bleed into nightmare,” Maxim replied. “And they think my claws can hold the seams.”She turned, studying him in the moonlight. Scars patterned his face like pale

Moonlight draped the Vale like a silver veil, softening the jagged edges of broken towers and scorched courtyards . The city still smelled of stone dust and old smoke, yet tonight the air carried a quieter rhythm—one of breathing earth and tentative renewal . Zara stepped carefully over a line of fractured marble, her boots brushing grit into the wind. Behind her, Maxim’s heavier stride echoed, the sound of a man who had carried war on his shoulders and still bore the weight.They had chosen this night deliberately. No grand feast, no watching council, no cameras to feed the hungry eyes of a shaken world. Only the moon, the ruins, and the hearts that refused to stop beating.“You’re certain you want it here?” Maxim asked, his voice a low rasp that matched the rubble. His dark coat fluttered with each gust, the faint glow of the moon catching on the jagged scar across his jaw—a scar that still burned when storms rolled in.Zara turned to him, brushing an errant strand of hair from her

The night bled silver and crimson as the moon rose over the Vale. Its swollen edge glowed like a blade fresh from the forge, slicing through a sky thick with the scent of wet stone and cooling ash. All across the reborn city, the packs gathered. Wolves of every lineage—High Fang, Bloodwood, Shadow Vale, and even scattered loners—stood shoulder to shoulder on the shattered plaza where the Hollow once ruled.Maxim Vale walked at the center of it all, the air bending around him with the quiet gravity of a storm held back by sheer will. He wore no crown, only a simple black coat streaked with dried mud from the day’s endless negotiations. Zara walked at his side, her hand brushing his in a silent tether. Her eyes glimmered with moonlight and the faint emerald sheen of witchcraft, the scent of her power sharp as pine and salt.The Bloodmoon hung low and swollen, demanding tribute. Its glow turned the scarred stones beneath their feet into molten embers, each one a reminder of blood paid fo