Semua Bab Mated Twice: A Wolf’s Dilemma: Bab 11 - Bab 20

The journal sat unopened in the center of the stone table like it was made of flame.No one dared touch it. Not even the elders who had once rewritten laws with their bare hands.Outside, the night howled, and with it came unease—an ancient kind, the kind that rustled through the bones of old wolves when change was near.Racheal stood tall, arms crossed, the air around her sharp with defiance.Elder Marek broke the silence first. “This… this is treason.”“Treason against what?” Racheal snapped. “A system built on obedience instead of truth? You’ve lied to generations of wolves about the mate bond—about our choices, about our power. I won’t be silent about that.”“Silence,” he hissed, “is what kept this world stable.”“No,” Elder Lyria cut in suddenly, her voice unusually gentle. “Obedience is what kept it quiet. There’s a difference.”Marek turned to her, his brow rising. “Are you defending her?”“I’m s

The training ground was quiet except for the thud of fists against wood and the occasional crack of splintered bark. Racheal stood just beyond the ring, watching Kade as he unleashed a flurry of strikes against a battle-worn dummy. His bare arms gleamed with sweat, every move precise, brutal, and simmering with restraint.She didn’t speak. Not yet. His wolf already knew she was there. She could feel it in the shift of his energy, the subtle way his body angled just slightly in her direction, always aware.“You met with Julian Roque,” Kade said without turning. His voice was low, heavy with disapproval.Racheal crossed her arms. “He found me. I listened.”Kade slammed a final blow into the dummy’s chest, cracking it straight through the middle. Wood splintered at his feet.“You shouldn’t have.”“He’s offering support. Allies. Bloodfang has eyes inside the council. You don’t think that’s worth hearing?”“I think Roque is a viper in wolf’s skin,” Kade said as he turned to face her. “He d

The snow fell thicker as night closed in. Branches sagged under the weight of frost and silence. Somewhere deep in the forest, distant howls echoed—too far to be a threat, but close enough to remind them that they weren’t safe.Not anymore.Racheal limped beside Jaxon through an overgrown trail that hadn’t been used in years. She said nothing, her thoughts still ringing with that otherworldly scream—the memory of it still vibrating inside her skull. Her ribs ached with each step. Blood had dried along the curve of her waist and across her sleeve.Jaxon hadn’t said much either since they fled.He was tense. Not just injured—but guarded. Like something was boiling beneath the surface, and he didn’t know whether to let it out or keep it caged.They finally emerged into a hidden glade, shielded by ancient rock formations and thick pine. A half-collapsed stone structure stood in the center, overtaken by moss and time. Carvings still shimmered faintly along its broken archway—lunar symbols.

They left the sanctuary before sunrise, following a hidden trail that twisted through pine forest and crumbling stone. The forest was dense here—untouched, sacred, thick with the scent of moss and old magic. No pack claimed this land.And that’s exactly why the seer had chosen it.“Are you sure she’s still alive?” Racheal asked as she sidestepped a tangled root.Jaxon glanced back at her. “She won’t die until the Moon releases her. That’s what they say.”“They also say I’m a curse,” she muttered.He smirked without humor. “The council says a lot of things. That’s how they stay in power.”Racheal fell silent after that.Not because she disagreed—but because her wolf had gone still. Not afraid. Not resisting. Just… listening.It was like the forest was whispering.After another hour of hiking through silence and stone, they reached the base of an ancient hill where a wooden door stood wedged between two boulders. Vines clung to the frame, and the air was thick with the scent of old herb

The snow had started to melt as they climbed, the icy layer thinning under the breath of early spring. Pines loomed overhead, tall and watchful, their branches rustling in a breeze that smelled like rain and something darker.Racheal’s wolf was restless.Not panicked, not afraid—just sharp. Alert. Like it could sense the storm before the first drop.Jaxon walked ahead, his blade strapped to his hip, silver and steel catching the morning light. He hadn’t said much since they left the sanctuary. But his shoulders were tense, and his energy burned hotter than usual.He could feel it too.“They’re tracking us,” he said finally. “Three. Maybe four. One of them has no scent.”Racheal paused mid-step. “No scent?”“They mask it with death magic. I’ve seen it before. Fangborn.”She stiffened.The name alone made the air feel colder.The Fangborn were creatures of shadow and blood, created through forbidden rituals lost before the Great Divide. Not wolves. Not quite human. Somewhere in between—