Semua Bab Wolf Rachael : Bab 131 - Bab 140

The mansion's interior was chaos incarnate.Guards attacked from all sides, emerging from doorways and corridors with weapons drawn and desperation in their eyes. They'd seen what I'd done outside. Seen their elite warriors broken. Their magical defenses shattered. Their alpha's carefully constructed army scattered like leaves.They attacked anyway. Because that's what loyal wolves did. They fought for their alpha even when the fight was hopeless.I almost admired them for it.Almost.My power moved on instinct now, responding to threats before my conscious mind registered them. A guard lunged from my left with a silver dagger aimed at my throat. Silver light flared, and he was thrown backward through a wall before his blade came within three feet of me. Another fired a crossbow from an upper balcony. The bolt vaporized mid-flight, turned to ash by the aura of power radiating from my body.Furniture exploded as I passed. Priceless paintings curled and blackened from the heat of my pre

I dragged Mike through the burning mansion like a hunter dragging prey back to its den. He stumbled and fell twice, his legs unable to support his weight properly after I'd thrown him against the wall. Each time he fell, I simply hauled him back up by his collar and continued forward. No words. No sympathy. Just relentless, inevitable progress toward whatever room might still be intact enough for what I had planned.The east wing study looked promising. The door had been blown off its hinges by my earlier rampage, but the interior was mostly untouched. A large desk dominated the center, surrounded by bookshelves and filing cabinets. Mike's private sanctuary, judging by the personal touches scattered throughout. Photos on the walls. Awards and commendations. A carefully curated image of respectability and power.I threw him into the leather chair behind the desk. He landed hard, the chair sliding backward and hitting the wall. Before he could move, I phased across the distance and plan

Kelvin POVThe mate bond burned.Not the way it had earlier, when Racheal's rage had exploded through our connection with enough force to drive me to my knees. This was different. Steady. Constant. Like standing too close to a forge, feeling the heat without seeing the flames.She was still fighting. Still destroying. Still consumed by whatever vendetta had driven her to attack Crimson Moon Pack.I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the documents spread across my father's desk. The study was exactly as he'd left it the night he died. His reading glasses on the blotter. A half-finished letter to an allied alpha. Books stacked in the precise order he preferred. My mother had wanted to clean it out, but I'd refused. Kept it as a shrine to his memory.Now, years later, I was finally seeing it with new eyes.The official reports sat in neat stacks on my left. Witness statements. Investigation findings. Conclusions reached by the pack council. Everything pointed to the same answer: Gho

Christopher Newt didn't give me time to think.The moment his declaration of execution left his lips, his hunters moved. Not in a coordinated rush like Mike's warriors had. These moved like a machine, each piece working in perfect sync with the others. Three flanks left, cutting off escape routes. Three went right, doing the same. Two dropped back to cover Christopher himself.And the remaining four came straight at me.I phased backward, my Ghost Wolf nature allowing me to slip through space. But they anticipated it. The moment I materialized, silver nets were already flying through the air. Not normal nets. These glowed with enchantments, pulsing with magic designed specifically to contain supernatural abilities.I rolled under the first net and came up swinging. My claws caught one hunter across the chest, shredding his combat armor like paper. He went down hard but didn't scream. Just grunted and rolled away, already reaching for backup weapons.Professional. These weren't mercena

The door marked "electrical" looked exactly like every other maintenance access point in the underground tunnel system. Rusted metal. Faded warning signs. A simple padlock that appeared decades old.But when Mike pressed his palm against what looked like a rust stain, I felt the magic pulse. Recognition wards. Biometric locks. Enchantments designed to keep out anyone who wasn't authorized.The door clicked open, revealing stairs that descended into deeper darkness."How far down?" I asked, my senses straining to detect what lay below."Three levels," Mike said, his voice hollow. "Kelly insisted on depth. Said it would muffle the sounds."The sounds. I didn't ask what the sound was. I already knew. Screams. Begging. The desperate noises victims made when hope died and only suffering remained.I pushed him forward down the stairs, my hand on his shoulder both to guide and restrain him. The air grew colder as we descended, taking on a sterile quality that reminded me too much of Kelly's