Semua Bab STOLEN BY THE MATE I DIDN'T WANT: Bab 11 - Bab 20

In the center, tied in iron, chained, Draven stood.The chains clinked whenever he shifted, the noise echoing in the silence. His shoulders were squared, his jaw set, his golden eyes burning.Tame, the pack's alpha and Liora's father, rose from the top chair at the end of the hall. His fist around the carved top of his staff was white-knuckled with tension."Draven of the cursed line," he intoned, his voice echoing. "You are accused of imposing your bond on my daughter without her permission. You are accused of endangering this pack, of bringing war upon us by your presence alone."The elders grunted, their heads nodding gravely.Kaelen stepped out of the shadows of the corridor, his steps confident, an affected haughtiness in every stride. His dark hair was back from his face, his tunic spotless, as if he had practiced this performance."I, Kaelen of the Iron Fang," he bowed slightly, though there was a flash of feigned humility in his eyes, "swear before this council that I slept w

Whispers followed Liora wherever she walked, shadowed by suspicion and pity. Yet another shadow walked with her too—Aric.He had been at her side since the trial ended, a silent presence that steadied her when her knees wanted to give way. His stride was measured, always half a step behind her, his broad shoulders tense as if prepared to shield her from the world. When her hands trembled, he wordlessly offered her a goblet of water, his blue-gray eyes studying her face with quiet concern.Liora never asked him to stay, but he did. Always.And Draven noticed.One evening, the tension snapped.Draven waited for them in the training yard, where the moonlight slanted across the stone. His chains had been removed after the council’s decision, but the scars on his wrists were still fresh. He stood like a statue carved of shadow and fire, his golden eyes locked on Aric as Liora approached.“Enough,” Draven growled, his voice low, dangerous. His gaze narrowed, lips curling back just slightly

The great hall of the Moonfang fortress was heavy with silence, the kind that pressed against the chest like stone. Torches lined the walls, their flames flickering in uneasy rhythm as if the fire itself knew the weight of the decision about to be made.Liora stood at the center, her palms damp, her breath shallow. She could feel the eyes of the elders piercing into her like daggers—some filled with pity, some with suspicion, all waiting for her to falter. Draven stood a step behind her, his posture unyielding, his golden eyes sharp enough to cut through the shadows.At the dais, Tame, her father, sat rigid, his jaw clenched, fingers gripping the carved wolf-head armrests of his throne. The room stank of tension and distrust, each breath the council took thick with judgment.“Tonight,” Tame began, his voice gravelly, carrying across the chamber, “we decide not only the fate of my daughter but the future of our alliances. Whether we stand with strength—or invite ruin.”Murmurs spread a

The moonlight fell in shards across the marble floor, slicing through the silence of Alpha Tame’s hall. Kaelen stood by the window, a glass of wine untouched in his hand. He didn’t drink anymore. Not since the night the lies began.Not since the night he betrayed his brother.He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. From the courtyard below, he could hear the faint hum of guards switching shifts, the rhythm of duty he used to love. But peace had never felt so heavy. The air in the manor had changed since the foreign Alpha arrived, colder, cautious, filled with whispers that stopped whenever he entered a room.Then came that scent again, frost and pine.“I thought I might find you here,” Corvin’s voice drawled from behind him. Smooth. Controlled. The kind of voice that smiled even when it shouldn’t.Kaelen turned slightly, his expression schooled. “You’re not exactly where I expected a guest to wander at midnight.”Corvin chuckled, stepping into the moonlight. “I couldn’t slee

Kaelen always hated the sound of the fortress at night. The silence was too sharp , the kind that pressed into his skull, making every thought louder, every regret harder to swallow.He sat in his quarters, hunched over a desk scattered with half-drained goblets and old maps. The fire in the hearth burned low, the light flickering against his face , sharp cheekbones, sunken eyes, a jaw clenched too tight. The faint scar across his neck caught the glow each time he turned his head.It was Draven’s mark , a reminder of the night he lost everything. The night his brother chose a cursed woman over blood.Kaelen reached for the goblet and drained the last drop, the bitter wine coating his tongue. He stared into the flames, voice a low growl.“She’s poisoned him,” he muttered. “Twisted him until he forgot who he is.”A soft voice came from behind him.“Or perhaps she just gave him something you never could , loyalty.”Kaelen stiffened, eyes narrowing. He didn’t need to turn. The scent , cle