All Chapters of He Betrayed Me For A Human: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The snow had not stopped falling.It drifted through the air like slow-burning embers, each flake a whisper against the ruined field where my past had died. The blood was gone now, buried beneath a layer of white, but I still smelled it—iron and salt, sharp enough to sting the back of my throat.A reminder of what I had done. A reminder of what I had become.Victory had never tasted this bitter."Are you just going to stand there?" Julian’s voice broke the silence, soft but edged with something deeper—concern, perhaps, or the cautious respect one reserves for a creature that’s still deciding whether or not to bare its teeth.I didn’t look at him. My gaze was fixed on the arena, where Kaelus still lay curled against the snow, his chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths. The wound I’d carved into his skin had stopped bleeding, but the scar would never fade.It would burn every time he shifted. It would ache every time he breathed. And every glance he caught in a mirror would

The sky did not break like thunder.It tore—slowly, deliberately—like something alive peeling away the skin of the world.The sound was too vast for mortal ears. It crawled through my bones, vibrating in the marrow, until even my wolf whimpered inside me. The storm spiraled above the valley, swallowing the horizon in light and shadow, as though the moon itself had been devoured and was bleeding silver back into the earth.Around me, my pack howled.Some in defiance. Some in fear.Cassian’s hand closed around my arm, grounding me against the chaos."Elara, we have to fall back!"But there was nowhere to go. The air shimmered with power, raw and magnetic, pulling upward, as if the sky itself had turned into a living thing that wanted to breathe me in."Run where?" I said, my voice breaking under the wind. "There’s no running from this."Julian barked orders, voice half-drowned by the roar of the storm. My wolves formed a defensive ring, but the snow beneath them had begun to glow—threads

The howls still hung in the air when the wind shifted.Not just wind—something inside it. A whisper threaded with power, carrying through the valley and brushing against every wolf’s skin like a cold breath.The wolves fell silent all at once. Every gaze turned to me.I could feel it—how the call bound them, not by dominance or command, but by resonance. My pulse was the tether, my breath the rhythm that held them still.Cassian and Julian watched from the ridge, silent. The firelight flickered behind them, painting their faces in gold and fear.The Moon had chosen me once. Now the world seemed to kneel to that choice.I lifted my eyes to the blood-lit sky. "Send word," I said. "To every Alpha left breathing. Tell them to meet us at the Vale before the next full moon."Julian hesitated. "They won’t come. Not all of them. Some still think you died at the Summoning.""Then let them think death walks again," I said. "Maybe they’ll listen this time."Cassian stepped forward, his expressio

The first thing I felt was not pain.It was absence.The world was too still, too bright, as if someone had stripped it clean of sound and color both. I tried to open my eyes, but the light that lingered behind my lids wasn’t the sun—it was something that had burned itself into me, white and relentless, like a scar carved in the soul.My lungs refused to work. Each breath scraped shallowly against my ribs, dry as ash. When I finally managed to move, a soft crack followed—stone breaking, frost giving way—and the sound felt almost foreign. It was the first proof that I still existed.The ground beneath me was cold.Not the ordinary kind of cold—the kind that seeped deeper, as if the earth itself remembered what had happened.When my sight adjusted, the world was wrong.Where there had once been trees, there was only smoke.Where there had been snow, there was glass—shards of ice fused into smooth, molten shapes that reflected the morning light. The explosion had swallowed everything in

The air beneath the Citadel tasted of metal and memory.Every breath scraped against the back of my throat, heavy with the scent of burnt incense and ancient blood. Torches lined the curved walls, their flames shivering as if the very stones remembered what had been sealed here before.Chains of silver hung from the ceiling like inverted roots, each one etched with runes that pulsed faintly—alive, sentient, watching.I stood in the center of the ritual circle, my wrists bound, my power restrained by symbols carved into the floor. I could feel them—old, predatory, pressing against my skin like teeth.Footsteps echoed.Slow, deliberate.Kaelus stepped out of the shadows. His expression was unreadable, but the glow in his eyes betrayed the Alpha beneath the mask—sharp, commanding, dangerous. He still wore the same black coat, the same silver crest of the Blood Moon Pack stitched across his chest.Even here, surrounded by the remnants of forgotten gods, he carried himself like a ruler.I