บททั้งหมดของ Claimed by my Ex-husband's friend : บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

Third Person’s PerspectiveValen walked through his yard with a light step. The sun shone warm on his face. He stopped and looked around. The sight made his chest feel full.The yard was full of life. Wolves ran in lines, laughing and calling to one another. Some practiced simple moves. Some did quick fights, pushing and testing each other. Others lifted heavy logs and raced down the field. There was no fear on their faces now. Instead, there was joy. The hard work had turned into play. The drills had become games. The pack moved together like a single body.Young wolves jumped and rolled on the grass. Old wolves moved with strong backs and steady feet. Women and men threw wooden spears and caught them again. Even children watched and learned. The sound of bodies hitting the ground, of boots on dirt, and of happy shouts filled the air.A man named Rourke ran by, sweat on his brow but a bright grin on his face. “Alpha Valen!” he called. “Come see this.” He spun his partner and then lan

Third Person’s PerspectiveLeo woke that morning with a cold fire in his chest. The night had been short. His sleep had been broken by images of shadows and men climbing toward him. The fact that men had tried to kill him burned in him like hot coal. He felt betrayed. He felt small. He felt something in him break.He walked through the pack house like a storm. His guards fell back as he passed. He did not speak. He did not need to. The weight of his look made men step aside and hold their breath.By midday, the word spread: Leo would speak to the pack at the main square. People came slowly. They came in groups, in small faces, in worried lines. When an Alpha calls the pack, they come. That was the law.The square smelled of smoke from cooking fires. Children clung to their mothers’ skirts. Elders sat on benches, their faces lined with worry. The sun burned high, but no one laughed. Tension hummed in the air.Leo walked out on the raised platform. He wore dark clothes. His face was set

First Person’s Perspective LeoI returned before dawn. The sky was a dirty grey, clouds hanging low, and the smell of rain clung to the air. My boots struck the ground, slow and steady. My body was still heavy with the night. With her. Flora.The gate should have been loud with soldiers changing posts, a few men calling greetings, the usual rhythm of life. Instead, silence stretched like a rope. Heads turned when I entered, then dropped fast. Mothers pulled their children away as if my shadow could stain them. Men who had been talking suddenly found their throats dry. Even the dogs gave one low growl before retreating.It was not respect. It was something else. Something sharper.I forced my face calm. I would not give them the pleasure of seeing surprise. I pushed the doors to the main hall. The air inside was thick, as if the walls themselves had shifted closer together.“Alpha,” one man muttered, bowing halfway. His voice was weak, as if he feared to speak and feared more to stay

Third Person’s PerspectiveThe sky was low and hard that morning. Clouds hung close, like a roof ready to break. The fields around the pack house were damp with early rain. Men and women moved about, doing their work, but there was a tension in the air like the feeling before a storm.At the edge of the trees, Valen’s line waited. Hundreds of bodies stood in neat rows. Faces set, eyes cold. Banners whipped in the wind. Valen stood before them on a small rise, his cloak like a dark wave behind him. He looked calm. He looked ready.When he raised his hand, the line loosened and began to move. They marched in quiet, heavy steps. They kept to the path that led straight for Leo’s lands. The forest swallowed the sound of their feet. Birds flew up in clouds and the dogs barked once, then fell silent. The march had the slow, steady weight of something that would not stop.Inside the pack house, Leo woke to the sound of shouting. He stood at the window and looked out. At first he did not belie

Third Person’s Perspective The yard was no longer Leo’s. The pack house grounds, once a place where his word ruled like law, had become a pit of judgment. The stones, the walls, the very ground seemed to have turned against him. The place that once echoed with his commands now echoed with curses.He and Lucas were forced to their knees, hands bound tight behind their backs. The ropes bit into their skin, digging so deep that blood ran down their wrists. The earth was wet beneath them, mixed with dirt and blood from the fighting earlier. Warriors,his warriors,stood around them in a tight circle with weapons drawn. Some of them he knew by name. Some he had taught to hold a sword. Some he had punished when they disobeyed, only for them to rise stronger. He remembered the faces of their first battles, the laughter around the fires, the oaths sworn to him. Now all he saw were cold eyes and steady hands, blades ready to strike.Valen did not raise a hand. He did not need to. His mere prese