Semua Bab Fate Or Mates: Bab 171 - Bab 180

AARON’S POVThe execution didn’t feel like a weight. It felt like nothing. A hollow click in the machine, and then the grinding went on. The world had really ended hours ago in the garden, when the truth split everything in two.All that was left was Angela, and the shattered silence in her eyes. Our bond had gone quiet, a flat line more terrible than any scream. I just needed to see her. To remember how to breathe the same air.I pushed the door open. “Angela?”Only morning light, cutting across the empty, neatly made bed. A cold finger traced my spine.“Angela.” My boots were too loud on the floor.My eyes caught the dresser. A single sheet of paper, folded and propped against her hairbrush. My name in her looping script. The bond in my chest, that constant hum of her, was muffled now. Distant. She had pulled a thick curtain between us.My hands went cold as I crossed the room. The paper felt flimsy, a terrifyingly fragile thing holding words I already knew I didn’t want to read.Aa

AARON’S POVThe rage that had held me up and the fear that had kept me sharp both dissolved the moment the bond broke open. It wasn’t a sound or a sight. It was a wave, pure and violent emotion that slammed into my chest and drove me to my knees.Terror, cold and choking. Love, aching and fierce, pulling hard enough to hurt. And beneath it all, a danger that was patient and calculated. Angela. No words, just impressions: cold stone, damp earth, rust. And threaded through it all, the smug, icy presence of Alpha Pius.The pull had a direction. West. Not the main settlement, but older ground, the fortified compound carved into the hillside.Then it was gone. I sucked in air, shaking, but the image was burned in. She was alive. She was terrified. And Pius had her. The blind panic shattered, replaced by something colder. Focus. That surge wasn’t just a cry. It was a warning. A location. She’d handed me surprise.I veered off the path and disappeared into deeper forest. I didn’t need a warb

AARON’S POVThe word “kneel” hung in the damp air between us. Julius smiled, a gash of pure triumph. Behind me, Angela trembled through the bond, a silent scream and panic. My warriors waited for my signal to attack or fight to the dead. That was the choice: our death for her life (a life soaked in guilt, but still a life), or a slaughter that would leave her to Julius for a worse death.It carved me open, but the answer was the same as always. I’d do anything for her, without a second thought.My muscles tensed, not to fight, but to yield, at least to buy us time for her to get to safety. My shoulders lowered , that small, terrible fall of posture.Julius’s eyes lit with savage delight. This was what he wanted. Not just her, but my submission. Then everything broke.Old Kieran, who had been shaking behind us, cried out, “The supports!” He didn’t charge Julius. He threw his whole weight against a rotten beam bracing the tunnel wall.At the same instant, a new sound rose behind Julius.

AARON’S POVDarkness was the first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes, then pain. My leg burned, my head throbbed to a sick beat. The smell of damp stone and rust filled the air. I opened my eyes to another cell, wrists chained to the wall, my bad leg stretched out at a painful angle. I tested the chains. Solid, buried deep. Escape would have to wait.The door clanked open. Julius walked in, clean now, wearing his smug triumph like a crown. “Welcome to your new throne room, King. Comfortable?”I stayed silent, conserving breath.“The little rescue was almost touching,” he said, circling like a vulture. “Your mate got away. My father is displeased. But we got you. The prize.” He stopped in front of me. “We got a message from your pack today. From your Luna.”My heart clenched. Angela was safe, and acting.“She made an offer. A trade.” He leaned in, his voice sharp. “She wants to give us someone in exchange for you.” He let the pause hang, savoring it. “Who do you think she’d sacrifi

ANGELA’S POVThe final hours before departure were controlled chaos. I stood in my room, not facing a mirror but the bed, where a decision waited. On one side lay polished leather armor, the official battle dress of a Shadow Moon Luna. On the other, a gown of deep charcoal gray, severe and restrained, worn for pack judgments when bloodshed was not yet inevitable.“The armor says you expect a fight,” Gamma Rylan said, arms folded. “The gown says you are presiding over one.”“The armor might provoke them,” James said as he entered, travel-worn and tight around the eyes. He had just returned from delivering our terms.“Pius accepted. Calmly. Too calmly. He said, ‘Let the Luna come and speak her truth.’ It felt like a predator inviting a lamb into its den.” He paused. “Julius was nowhere to be seen. His absence is loud.”A bad sign. Julius moved on impulse and rage. Silence meant calculation.I reached for the gown, letting the fabric slide through my fingers. “The armor is what they expe