Semua Bab The Alpha Queen and her Human Mate: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Chapter 8 – Fractures and FlamesThe cold wind whispered through the trees surrounding the Shadowstorm Pack’s training fields, but Raven barely noticed it. Her eyes were sharp, fixed on the warriors below, where her own pack trained beside Thorne’s reformed rogues. The unease between them was as thick as fog. Every movement seemed forced, every glance full of silent questions and unspoken threats.She stood on the ridge above the grounds, arms folded across her chest, her cloak fluttering in the wind. Beside her, Ragnar’s silence echoed her own tension. He had said little since the morning meetings, but Raven could feel his power thrumming beneath his skin—alert, ready. Just like hers.“They’re holding back,” she muttered. “Both sides. No trust. No unity.”Ragnar let out a quiet breath. “It’s only been a few days. Trust doesn’t build that fast.”“Maybe. But war doesn’t wait for healing either,” she said, eyes narrowing as one of the rogue warriors shoved a Shadowstorm wolf hard to t

Chapter 10: Trust the Flame Raven gripped the reins tighter as the storm above began to roll in. Thunder growled in the distance like a warning. Shadow’s presence curled around her soul—steady, watchful—while Nightfire hummed just beneath her skin, flaring softly with each heartbeat. She had sensed danger for hours now, but it had stayed just out of reach. Thorne rode beside her, silent but alert. She glanced at him. His jaw was tight, his eyes scanning the treeline like he was waiting for something to leap out. “We’re being followed,” she said finally. Thorne nodded. “Three of them. I smelled them back at the ridge.” “You should’ve said something.” “You already knew.” She smirked despite herself. “Fair enough.” The trail narrowed, cliffs rising on either side. Raven tensed. A trap. She could feel it—Shadow’s fur bristling inside her mind. The moment they turned the bend, movement exploded from the left. Ambush. A blur of fur and claws crashed into her mount, sending

Chapter 12: The Scent of Betrayal Raven rose before the sun, her instincts already alert. Even in sleep, her senses rarely dulled anymore—not since the bond with the sanctum had deepened. She moved silently through the ruins, each footstep deliberate, each breath measured. She wasn’t alone. Thorne stirred near the fire pit, but it wasn’t him she sensed. No, this was different—familiar, but wrong. A scent laced with deceit. Someone had been here recently. Someone she used to trust. She crouched by the edge of the stones, pressing her fingers to a damp patch of moss. It was faint, almost hidden beneath layers of masked scent. But she knew it. Ashenroot. A rare herb used by spies to conceal their presence from shifters. Only someone trained by the Blackclaw elite would know how to use it properly. Her blood went cold. "Raven?" Thorne's voice came groggy but concerned. She didn’t answer at first, standing to scan the treetops, her eyes narrowing. “We had a visitor.” Thorne was i

Chapter 14: The Flame That HuntsThey left the Temple at dusk, cloaked in the bruised purple of the falling sky. Raven didn’t speak for a long time. Not about Mira. Not about the voice. Not about the betrayal that cracked something old inside her chest.Thorne didn’t press her.He just stayed close. That was becoming his strength not demanding her trust, just earing it. Silently. Steadily.As they walked through the mountain trail, Raven finally broke the silence.“She held me the night my mother died.” Her voice was low. “Mira braided my hair and told me the stars would guide me.”Thorne looked over. “I’m sorry, Raven.”She shook her head, bitterness lining her mouth. “She’s been feeding the court information for years. I was too blind to see it.”Shadow stirred in her chest, restless. So did Nightfire—crackling just under her skin.“We find her, we stop her,” Thorne said firmly. “Before she stops you.”Raven nodded once. “We head to Cindervale next. If she’s delivering ashroot t

Chapter 16: The Price of PowerThe tunnel trembled.Sparks danced along Raven’s fingers, the Nightfire reacting not just to her rage, but to her resolve. Mira didn’t flinch. She had expected this, counted on it. The crates behind her leaked with the scent of ashroot and bloodstone. Illicit magic. Poison for Lycans. Profit for traitors.“You always were dramatic,” Mira drawled, stepping aside to reveal the cloaked figure beside her more clearly. “But this time, dear Raven, you’re out of your depth.”The man pulled back his hood.Thorne stiffened. “That’s no smuggler.”Raven’s heart dropped.He was Fae.Dark-veined skin, eyes like melted silver, and no soul behind them. Fae born from the Hollow Courts—the exiled kind who made deals with shadows and fed on pain.“What’s the Hollow doing in Cindervale?” Raven snarled.The man spoke with a grin that didn’t meet his eyes. “We came for the Queen.”Mira added, “The council always knew what you were, Raven. You were a weapon that outgrew