Todos los capítulos de The Alpha's Bargain: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

(Kieran POV)The internal debate raged while the pack settled into the comfortable silence of creatures who understood each other beyond the need for words. Around us, the forest pulsed with nocturnal life—small prey animals going about their business, night birds calling from invisible perches, the rustle of wind through leaves that had begun their autumn transformation.Normal sounds of a normal night in a normal forest. Everything that my domain was not.But Catherine slept in the heart of my supernatural kingdom, probably dreaming peaceful dreams that had nothing to do with the predator pacing through moonlit woods and aching to be closer to her."The moon will set in a few hours," Lucas observed, settling onto his haunches with the patient air of someone prepared to wait out my restlessness. "You can return to human form and speak with her properly tomorrow. Invite her to dinner again. Try to build something real

(Kieran POV)I smelled him before I saw him—young wolf musk tangled with guilt and the lingering trace of Catherine's scent that clung to the castle's eastern wing like perfume. Marcus stood in my study's doorway, flanked by two older pack members who'd dragged him here by his metaphorical scruff, their expressions grim with the particular disappointment reserved for packmates who'd crossed lines that shouldn't exist."Tell me," I said without looking up from the ledgers scattered across my desk, though every muscle in my body had gone rigid with barely contained violence. "Tell me you weren't stupid enough to go sniffing around her chambers."The silence stretched until it became another presence in the room, thick with the kind of tension that preceded either confession or bloodshed. I could hear Marcus's heartbeat hammering against his ribs, could smell the fear-sweat that had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do w

(Catherine POV)Sleep had become my enemy. I lay in silk sheets that felt like restraints, staring at ceiling shadows that danced with accusations I couldn't name. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Lord MacAllister's voice drifting up from the study below—cold, precise, describing consequences for supernatural creatures who couldn't maintain their illusions.Supernatural creatures. The words had burned themselves into my memory like brands.I'd pressed my ear to the floor until the Persian rug left patterns on my cheek, straining to catch every word of what sounded like a trial. Someone had been caught prowling near my chambers—someone who'd been punished with the kind of terror that made grown men whimper like beaten dogs.The sound of that punishment still echoed in my bones.At half past midnight, I gave up any pretense of sleep. The castle corridors called to me with their promise of answers I'd been too cowardly

(Kieran POV)I stepped from the shadows like wrath given form, the change from wolf to human rippling through me with violent haste. Bones reformed, muscles reshaped themselves, but the fury remained constant—a white-hot rage that made rational thought impossible.She stood in my forbidden corridor with a candle held like a weapon, surrounded by doors that bore the claw marks of creatures she couldn't begin to understand. Catherine Montgomery, who should have been sleeping safely in chambers I'd prepared specifically to keep her away from truths like this."What the hell are you doing here?"The words came out rougher than I'd intended, pitched low enough to avoid echoing down corridors where other ears might be listening. But the barely contained violence in my voice made her flinch, candlelight wavering as her hand trembled.Good. She should be afraid. She should understand the magnitude of her transgression.I clos

(Catherine POV)I wore a path in the Persian rug, my bare feet moving in restless circuits that took me from fireplace to window to door and back again. Sleep was impossible after what I'd seen—those claw-marked doors, the wolf that had materialized from shadows like something out of nightmare, Lord MacAllister's face when he'd found me trespassing in his private hell.The memory of his grip on my arm burned like a brand. Not painful, exactly, but intense enough that I could still feel the imprint of his fingers hours later. The way he'd looked at me in that corridor—fury and something else I didn't want to name warring in those golden eyes.Golden eyes. Like the wolf's. Like the creature that had watched me from the forest edge with predatory patience.Coincidence, I told myself, though the word felt hollow even in the privacy of my own thoughts. Men can have unusual eye colors without being supernatural monsters