Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Wolfless Luna And The Alpha King: Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

Danielle’s POV BACK IN SHADOW CLAW PACK Kaelen stays warm in my arms as I rock him gently beside the tall window in the east wing nursery, the afternoon light spilling in through the curtains like every other day, dust motes floating like they have nowhere else to be. His head rests beneath my chin, tiny fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, his breathing slow and steady. I hum under my breath, an old tune I used to sing as a kid when storms rattled the roof and sleep felt like a luxury. Kaelen doesn’t stir. He rarely does. Even now, his heartbeat feels… calm. Steady in a way that makes my chest tighten for reasons I still can’t name. And then the sound comes. Low at first. A rumble. Not thunder. Worried voices, angry voices from afar. Kaelen shifts, finally stirring, a soft sound leaving his throat. My body reacts before my mind does, arms tightening instinctively around him. The noise

Rhett’s POVMorning apparently does not bring clarity either. It only sharpens the ache behind my eyes from the lack of sleep I've had over the past few days.It’s morning, and as expected the elders of my pack have agreed to gather once again for a meeting on what can be done concerning the recent attacks.By the time I reach the doors to the boardroom, the elders are already gathering.Elder Rowan stands near the windows, hands clasped behind his back. Maelis, one of the oldest of the land sits at the long table. While Torin paces instead of sitting, agitation is written into every step. Selene on the other end murmurs something low to Darius when I walk in.Devon is here too, leaning casually against a pillar, arms folded as he stares at a document in front of him. Without wasting much time, I take my seat at the head of the table.“Let’s begin,” I say, cutting them off their murmurs as the room stills instantly.Rowan turns first. “You sent word last night. About the alliance.”“Y

Danielle’s POVThe mornings are the only time the pack feels soft to me. Times before the drills begin, before voices echo around the house and boots strike the marble floor of the mansion. Before the weight of being watched settles on my shoulders like a second skin.I stand by the window with a cup of tea growing cold in my hands, watching the fog thin over the courtyard below. The same space they have been training in the day before that. Warriors outside move in quiet clusters, stretching through the fields, laughing unaware that Rhett will push them hard again today. He always does lately and I understand why.I mean, peace never lasts long enough to trust it. Behind me, the room smells faintly of milk. And Kaelen’s toys lie scattered across the rug where I left them the night before, wooden blocks, a soft wolf plush, a half-chewed ring he insists on carrying everywhere.I turn in seconds, watching Kaelen lie on his stomach in the middle of the si

WEEKS LATERRhett’s POVThe armor on me right now feels heavier than I remember. Not because it weighs more but because it’s been too long since I’ve worn it.The leather straps bite into my shoulders as I tighten them staring at my reflection, the familiar creak echoing softly in the armory. Steel plates settle over my chest, cool and solid, pressing against my ribs like a reminder of who I am supposed to be when the pack is watching.An Alpha, a warrior. A man to guard his people.Devon stands near the doorway with his arms crossed, watching me with a look I’ve seen too often lately, concern masked as irritation.“You don’t need to do this,” he says for the third time, frowning at me.But I don’t look at him, I reach for my gauntlets instead, sliding my hands into them, flexing my fingers until the joints move smoothly. “I do.”“You haven’t trained on the field in months,” Devon presses. “You’ve been overseeing, commanding, planning. That

Rhett’s POVThe arguing had started before I even decided to settle down.“We cannot bleed our reserves for a war we can’t name,” one of my elders snaps, his palm striking the table hard enough to rattle the ink pots.“And we cannot sit on our hands waiting to be slaughtered,” Captain Rowan shot back from his end at the table. “Three border patrols in one week, Bram. Three.”I take my seat at the head of the table and the room goes quiet. Not immediately I sit, but reluctantly. Chairs scrape as I walk in. Eyes shift to me the way they always do during meetings like this, as if I carried answers all the time instead of responsibility.“Our supply lines are stretched thin already,” Bram continues, lowering his voice but not the conviction of his statement. “Rationing will cause unrest.”“Unrest is better than graves Alpha,” Rowan said.I lift a hand and then silence falls heavy between us, pressing against my ears until I’m keenly aware of my own breat