All Chapters of BLOODBOUND: The Wolf, The King and The Killer: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Nikolai's POV I found Killian on the back porch swing, legs stretched out, beer dangling from his fingers. The party had spilled outside hours ago; someone had started a bonfire in the pit, and the glow lit up the garden in shifting orange. Music thumped from the house, muffled but steady. Most of the pack was inside dancing or arguing over the playlist, but out here it was quieter. Just the crackle of wood and the low hum of voices. I walked straight to him, dropped onto his lap without asking, and wrapped my arms around his neck. He made a soft surprised sound, then smiled against my mouth when I kissed him. Slow. Lazy. The kind of kiss that said we had all the time in the world. His hands settled on my hips, thumbs rubbing small circles through my shirt. I tasted beer and smoke and him, and I could have stayed right there forever. A dramatic squeal cut through the night. “Oh my god, you two have no respect for your alpha! There are children present! Get a room!” Rhett was le

Killian's POV I slid up beside Rhett while he leaned against the kitchen counter nursing a fresh beer. Declan was across the room trying to look casual while refilling his drink, but every step was careful, thighs pressed together like he was still feeling Rhett hours later. I bumped Rhett’s shoulder. “So. Get your fill yet, birthday boy?” Rhett smirked into his bottle. “Completely.” “Yeah, I can tell.” I nodded toward Declan. “Kid’s walking like he's sitting on a fence post.” Rhett barked a laugh so loud half the room turned. “He’ll live.” “Poor baby,” I teased. “You broke him.” “Worth it,” Rhett said, eyes soft. “Totally worth it.” I grinned. “Good. Now go make your alpha speech or whatever before the pups start howling for attention. Some of us still haven’t gotten ours tonight.” Rhett raised an eyebrow. “That's a complaint, beta?” “Observation,” I said. “My man’s been running around playing party planner all night. I’m starving.” Rhett threw his head back and laughed a

Nikolai's POV I woke up to sunlight stabbing me straight in the eyeballs and the clock screaming 9:17 in angry red numbers. My mouth tasted like I had licked the bonfire pit. Killian was sprawled on his stomach next to me, one arm flung over my waist, snoring like a freight train. I shot upright. “Killian. Killian, wake the fuck up!” He groaned and tried to burrow deeper into the pillow. I grabbed his ankle and yanked. “The meeting is at ten! Get up!” He lifted his head, hair sticking out everywhere. “What year is it?” “Move!” I was already out of bed, hopping into yesterday’s jeans because they were closest. I threw a shirt at his face. “Shower later, dress now!” He sat up, blinking. “Coffee.” “Coffee after we survive this meeting!” I bolted out of the room still buttoning my shirt and hammered on Rhett’s door. No answer. I shoved it open. Empty bed, sheets thrown back. Bathroom door closed, shower running. “Rhett! We’re late! Ten minutes to get downtown!” The shower was

Killian's POV I was halfway through a sandwich when my phone started vibrating so hard it walked itself off the desk. Unknown international number. I answered with mustard still on my fingers. “Killian Reed.” The voice on the other end belonged to Marcus, our London branch director, and he sounded like someone had kicked his dog and stolen his car. “Killian, the Meridian contract is gone. Signed with Adrian Wilder Corporation this morning. They undercut us by twelve percent and promised delivery six weeks early. The board over here is panicking.” I dropped the sandwich. “Repeat that.” “Adrian Wilder. They swooped in last night, wined and dined the client, and we just got the termination notice. It’s done.” I was already moving. “Stay calm. Do not talk to press. I’m on my way.” I hung up and sprinted down the hall, phone still in my hand. Rhett’s door was open. He was on a call, feet up on the desk, laughing about something with Declan on speaker. The second he saw my face th

Declan's POV I sat on the floor of the old archive room with my back against a shelf of crumbling ledgers and my laptop balanced on my knees. The only light came from the screen and a single candle I wasn’t supposed to have. I typed the cipher I hadn’t used in four years, fingers moving on muscle memory alone. Matteo, Parley requested. Old laws. Neutral ground. One hour of words, no blades. Name the place. — D I hit send and watched the little encrypted packet disappear into the dark web relay. My heart was beating too hard, but I kept my breathing steady. Old habits. Three minutes later the reply blinked onto the screen. Little wolf returns. Midnight. The abandoned church at Harrow Crossing. Come alone or the offer dies. — M I stared at the words until they blurred. Harrow Crossing was two hours south, right on the edge of no-man’s-land between pack territories. Perfect neutral ground. Also perfect place to disappear forever if this went wrong. I closed the laptop a