All Chapters of Beast Billionaire Claim : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Night in the rebuilt Vale carried a quiet unlike any Maxim had known. The air no longer hummed with war drums or the metallic tang of fear. Instead, the city exhaled a cautious peace—a living rhythm of hammer on stone, of voices laughing in alleys that had once echoed only with screams. Maxim stood at the edge of the high balcony, watching silver moonlight spill over the newborn skyline. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to breathe without tasting blood.Sleep, however, refused to grant the same mercy.When it finally came, it dragged him into a world that smelled of ash and iron. He stood on the cliffs above the Vale, the city below swallowed by a black eclipse. The moon hung in the sky like a dying heart, bleeding shadow across every rooftop. Wind howled through the hollowed bones of buildings still standing. Somewhere deep inside the dark, a wolf—his wolf—let out a low, mournful call. It vibrated through his chest like a warning older than his name.He reached for th

The Vale’s heart had always beaten in stone and shadow, but tonight its pulse felt different—sharp, metallic, alive. Maxim Vale stood at the mouth of the newly opened cavern, the damp air humming against his skin like the prelude to a storm. Behind him, torchlight trembled across jagged rock and the uneasy faces of miners who had dug too deep and awakened something they did not understand .Zara stepped to his side, the scent of earth and faint ozone trailing her like a promise. “It’s not just silver,” she said quietly, eyes narrowing as the flicker of moonlight caught the faint glow seeping from the cavern floor. “It’s moon-silver. Raw. Untouched.”The name rolled through the air like a curse. Moon-silver—mythic metal of legend, forged by lunar storms and steeped in magic. Wolves feared it for the way it burned through their skins, witches coveted it for the power it lent to spellwork. Stories said a single shard could bind a beast’s will, or amplify a witch until her heart sang with

The moon hung swollen above the Vale, its pale glow slicking the rebuilt towers in silver. Maxim watched it from the balcony of the East Spire, hands braced on the cold railing. The night smelled of rain and iron—rich, almost sweet, as if the earth itself waited to be torn open. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, pacing, testing the fragile leash he kept drawn tight.He had not shifted since the Bloodmoon Accord. The Beast had slept through the long season of treaties and rebuilding, through the endless council meetings and the measured touch of Zara’s calming magic. But tonight every muscle felt sharpened to a point. The wind brought the scent of prey that did not exist, and the moon whispered like a blade across his nerves.Behind him, Zara’s soft steps broke the silence. “You didn’t come to bed.”“I couldn’t.” His voice came out rougher than intended. “The air tastes wrong. Like the Hollow before it opened.”Zara moved to his side, her dark hair lifting in the restless wind. Magic

The night air in the Vale tasted of iron and frost, sharp enough to cut the throat. Silver & Vale’s great atrium—glass-walled and moon-lit—hummed with the restless energy of wolves and witches forced to share one fragile peace. Tables of carved obsidian gleamed like frozen lakes. Candles flickered inside crystal bowls, casting fractured light over banners of every allied pack. Tonight was meant to be a celebration of the Bloodmoon Accord, a final round of talks before the eclipse .Maxim stood at the head dais, a figure carved from shadow and command. The black of his suit was threaded with a subtle silver sheen, but no amount of tailoring could soften the Beast inside him. It prowled beneath his skin, scenting tension like the first hint of blood.Across the room, the delegate of the Forgotten Pack—a tall, dark furred wolf called Kael—watched the gathering with unreadable eyes. His presence was a riddle wrapped in the scent of old forests and deeper betrayals. Weeks ago, the world be

The Vale smelled of iron and rain, though no storm had broken. Wind pressed against the manor’s windows like a restless spirit, rattling panes and carrying the thin, high wail of wolves miles away. Zara stood at the balcony rail, palms slick against the cold stone, and felt the sky tilt. The moon hovered swollen and heavy above the treeline, its silver skin filmed with a smoky halo.“It’s too soon,” she whispered. The prophecy had spoken of an eclipse that would come with the season’s end. But the moon was already darkening at the edges, like ink soaking through parchment.Maxim came to stand behind her. His heat wrapped around her like a second heartbeat, but tonight even that warmth felt brittle. “The Hollow sings,” he said, voice roughened by the Beast crouched inside him. “I can hear it in the marrow of the Vale. Wolves are losing their center. I can barely hold mine.”Zara turned. His pupils were ringed in molten gold, a warning flare from the creature beneath his skin. “The Bloo