Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

Maxton spotted Gladys and Dryann from across the street while he was at a vendor’s cart, ordering ice cream. He smiled faintly, already planning to join them, his smile faded . Dryann suddenly brushed past Gladys without a word and bolted into a nearby building,chasing some guy.Maxton stopped mid-step, confusion written over his face.Who the hell was he chasing?He hurried toward Gladys, thrusting a cone of ice cream into her hand.“What was that about?” he demanded, breath short from his quick pace.Gladys blinked, baffled. “I have no idea. One second he was polite, the next he was sprinting off like the devil was on his heels.”Maxton frowned. “I think he’s running after someone.” The sharp edge in his tone betrayed a note of jealousy.Gladys arched a brow. “You think it’s a former lover?”“I don’t know.” His jaw tightened. “But if I’m being honest… yeah, maybe it is.”“Jealous already?” she teased.“And why should I be?” Maxton shot back too quickly. “Hell, I met him last night.

Maxton held Dryann’s gaze, feeling a series of mixed feelings. The man was already under his skin, clawing at his nerves in ways he couldn’t explain . He took the glass of vodka, swallowed it in one gulp, and leaned forward.“Got a note on you?” he asked the bartender.The man handed him a small folded slip. Maxton scribbled quickly, sharp movements betraying his irritation, and passed it back. “Give this to him.”The bartender walked it across. Dryann raised a brow when the note was slipped into his hand. He unfolded it, read the bold scrawl, and then laughed.“FUCK YOU!.”Hours earlier, Dryann hadn’t planned on ending up here. His restless drive had carried him to Los Angeles without thought. “LA it is then,” he muttered, checking into a hotel. The room smelled of expensive polish and bleach. He tossed his keys and backpack on the chair and sat down, he slept off before his head even touched the backrest.When he woke, Maxton was the first thing on his mind…not Dan, not his late hus

The werewolf stiffened, his nostrils flared as the scent of silver filled the room. Slowly, deliberately, he rose to his full height and turned to face the intruder.“Hunter,” he spat, giving dryann a cynical laugh. His eyes glowed faintly amber. “This is my hunting ground, not yours.”Dryann cocked his head, his grip steady on the knife in his palm. His dark hair shadowed his eyes.“I suppose you hunt humans now, huh? That's what this place has become?”His gaze swept the blood-soaked floor, the girls tied to chairs, the stench of sweat, fear, and decay. It wasn’t a home. It was a slaughterhouse.The werewolf snarled and shifted his stance, thinking he could strike when Dryann was distracted. But the instincts of a seasoned hunter, honed by years of tracking monsters, moved faster than any feral beast.The wolf lunged for his gun. Dryann pivoted smoothly, ducking low, and spun on his heel. The silver blade twirls in his hand, then bit deep across the creature’s side. Flesh blood sizz

Dryann saw Maxton’s message with their current location. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, drew in a deep breath, then pulled into the lot where they were parked. For a moment, he didn’t move, he just sat in the silence of his car, battling with the pull inside him.Maxton was leaning against the hood of Gladys’s car, dressed in a simple flannel shirt that somehow made him look heartbreakingly boyish, innocent yet devastatingly handsome. The sight hit Dryann hard, a dangerous reminder of how much he wanted to start something with him. But that wasn’t right. Dan hadn’t been gone that long. What kind of man would that make him? Still, his heart refused to listen to logic.He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over.“Hey,” he said quietly, giving Gladys a small nod.She didn’t respond. Her eyes slid over him like he was an unwelcome shadow.“Hey,” Maxton replied, softer, almost cautious.“Can we talk?” Dryann asked, tilting his head slightly.“Sure.” Maxton stepped a

The flight to Mexico stretched nearly five hours. Maxton slept through most of it, though his rest was anything but peaceful. Again and again, he drifted into the same recurring dream, his father sitting in a trance, unmoving, while his wolf crouched on top of him, eyes glowing crimson. Above them, the moon hung in the sky, half-red and smoky white. No matter how hard Maxton tried to shake him awake, his father refused to stir.When the plane finally touched down, Dryann slipped into the role of guide and protector, leading them with the same calm certainty he had shown since the hospital. He hailed a car and drove them south to Yucatán, a place said to hold healing lakes once guarded by the Mayans.The road twisted through dense green jungle until the air smelled of earth and ancient stone. They hadn’t even fully stepped out of the vehicle before a man approached, as though he had been waiting all along.“Dryann!” the man said in a thick accent, pulling him into a tight embrace.“It’s