บททั้งหมดของ Bonded To The Alpha God of War : บทที่ 171 - บทที่ 180

Panic tore through the battlements.Crescent Moon warriors broke formation, discipline dissolving into frantic motion as they shoved a massive iron cauldron toward the edge of the wall. The pot glowed from within, its contents churning molten red… alive, seething and hungry. Heat bled from it in suffocating waves, warping the air until the world around it wavered and bent.The dawn recoiled… The stench of scorched metal and burning stone poured outward, thick and choking, crawling into lungs and settling heavy in the throat. Sweat streamed down faces, eyes watered, hands blistered as they strained against the weight of the pot, fear driving them harder than command ever could.Below, the ground waited.Above, the lava writhed within the massive iron pot, churning restlessly as if alive and hungry. Its molten red light pulsed against the fortress walls, casting distorted, hellish shadows across the battlements and the strained faces of those standing too close. The air around it bent a

Darkness closed in around the forest.A single fire burned at the heart of the camp, its flames low and controlled, crackling softly as if even the fire knew better than to draw attention. Warriors lay scattered in its dim glow… some stretched out in uneasy sleep, others seated in silence, methodically sharpening blades. No laughter… No boasts. Only the quiet preparation of men who knew the war was far from finished.Ronan sat apart from them. He crouched beside the fire, alone, its glow moving across his armor and reflecting in eyes that did not soften with rest. A stick was clenched in his fist, knuckles whitening as his grip tightened slowly. The wood groaned, its fibers splintering under the pressure, until it snapped cleanly in two.He let the broken pieces fall into the dirt without looking.The fire crackled on.“This isn’t over,” Ronan murmured, his voice low and steady, carrying no doubt… only certainty.…The flames of the fire had long since died.What remained was fog… It

The sun was sinking when Ronan rode into the Crimson Blood Pack.Its dying light spilled across stone paths and iron towers, bleeding everything into shades of burnished gold and deepening shadow. The fortress seemed carved from fire and dusk alike. As Ronan dismounted, the shift was immediate… warriors nearby straightened, heels snapping together, heads bowing low in instinctive respect.“Beta Ronan,” they murmured as one.He barely acknowledged them. His thoughts were already far ahead, racing toward a single name that weighed heavier than armor.Lucien…Ronan moved with purpose, long strides eating up the courtyard as his cloak snapped sharply behind him. The familiar clang of steel and low murmurs faded as he ascended the steps to the Alpha chambers. At the door, he slowed… not from hesitation, but control. One firm knock, precise and restrained.Then he pushed the door open and stopped.Ira… She sat across the heavy table, posture perfectly straight, her presence composed and unm

Lucien’s gaze shifted, moving from Lyra to Ira and then to Ronan.“From what you’ve described,” he said evenly, “a large force won’t move through that passage without trouble. The routes are narrow. Space is limited.” His eyes hardened. “Too much risk. Too much noise.”Neither Ira nor Ronan needed the conclusion spelled out. They felt it settle into place before he spoke it.“We go in light,” Lucien said. “Ten warriors. No more.” A brief pause…“That includes all of you.”Ira and Ronan inclined their heads at the same time, agreement immediate and unquestioned.“I’ll choose the remaining seven myself,” Ira said without hesitation. Her voice carried certainty, not pride. “Warriors trained under my command. They are quiet, precise and disciplined.”Lucien studied her for a moment, then gave a single, approving nod.“Good.”Lucien straightened slightly, his presence expanding until it filled the chamber. His gaze swept over them… Lyra, Ira, Ronan, binding them together with nothing but in

The moment the sky darkened completely,the mission began.Night swallowed the land whole. There was no moon, no stars. Only shadows layered upon shadows, pressing in until the world felt reduced to breath and movement alone.Ronan moved first.Ira fell in at his side. Lyra led by half a step, with seven Crimson Blood warriors fanning out behind them in silent precision. They did not rush. They flowed… each step measured, deliberate and lethal. Weapons were wrapped and stripped of shine. Breaths were controlled and disciplined.They did not enter the dark. They became it.Within moments, they stood before the entrance to the underground pathway… half-hidden beneath tangled roots, thick vines, and slabs of ancient stone long reclaimed by the earth. Moss clung to it in heavy layers, damp and suffocating. Time itself had tried to erase this place… and nearly succeeded.Lyra stepped forward.She knelt, retrieved a dry stick from beside the entrance, and struck flame to it. The fire caught