The Cursed Alpha’s Wolfless Omega のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

KaelThe war council chamber reeks of blood and smoke.Even after hours of scrubbing, the stench clings to the stone walls like a curse, just as the memory of the attack clings to me.I stand at the head of the long, scarred table, staring at the maps spread across its surface. Fresh markers indicate where the rogues struck two nights ago, their bold red stones glaring back at me like wounds.There are too many of them.Too close.“Casualty report,” I demand, my voice sharp as a blade.Roran clears his throat. My second-in-command stands to my right, his expression grim. “Seven dead. Four more badly injured. Two of the wounded won’t survive the night.”The words hit like physical blows, though I don’t let it show. An Alpha cannot flinch.“And the rogues?”“Six confirmed kills. Three escaped.” His jaw tightens. “We tracked them as far as the eastern ridge, but they vanished. It’s as if they knew the terrain better than we did.”I grit my teeth. “They shouldn’t have known it at all. Tho

KaelThe great hall is silent, save for the steady crackle of the fire.It should feel like the heart of my stronghold—a place of warmth and safety. Instead, it feels like a tomb. The banners on the stone walls, the carved wolf sigils representing generations of my line, seem to watch me in judgment.And they should.Seven dead. Four more broken and bleeding in the healer’s den. Entire families grieving tonight while their Alpha stands here, staring at a map that does nothing but mock him.This is what failure tastes like. Bitter. Cold.“Alpha,” Roran’s voice comes quietly from the doorway. “The warriors are assembled in the courtyard. They await your command.”I nod without looking at him, my jaw clenched. “Good. I’ll address them shortly.”He doesn’t leave. I can feel his hesitation like a shadow creeping closer. Finally, he says, “The men are restless. They want blood. Many are demanding we retaliate against Bloodfang immediately.”Of course they are. My warriors are fierce, proud.

KaelThe courtyard reeks of blood and fear.Even after two days, the stench clings to the stones, a constant reminder of my failure. Warriors move with grim efficiency, cleaning weapons and tending to wounded comrades. Every movement is sharp, purposeful, and laced with barely contained rage.My pack wants war.My wolf demands it.And yet, I stand still in the center of the chaos, forcing myself to think instead of act. Acting on instinct is how enemies win.“Alpha,” Roran says, falling into step beside me. His tone is clipped, his face drawn tight with exhaustion. None of us have slept much since the attack. “The scouts returned an hour ago. They found more signs along the northern ridge. Rogues and Bloodfang tracks, together.”As expected. I grind my teeth. “Garrick has finally revealed himself.”Roran hesitates. “You’re certain it’s him?”“Who else?” My voice is sharp enough to cut. “No rogue pack could coordinate an attack of this size alone. This was planned. Calculated.”Roran d

KaelThe stronghold has become a cage.Not for Elara. For me.Every corridor, every whisper, every sidelong glance feels like a blade at my back. The attack two nights ago was a declaration of war, and my warriors want blood. But instead of leading them into battle, I’m trapped here, chasing ghosts.Or worse—chasing shadows that may lead me to her.The spy is real. The tracks our scouts found don’t lie. A rogue or Bloodfang wolf is somewhere within my borders, moving unseen among my people.And yet, every time I try to focus on the hunt, my mind drifts back to Elara.The way she flinched when I last touched her, as though my hand burned her.The bruises fading from her skin, reminders of the fight with Leira.The way her eyes seem to search mine, desperate for something I can’t give her.I’ve been avoiding her, keeping my distance. It’s the only way to keep her safe—from my curse and from the suspicions building around her like storm clouds.But no matter how far I step back, my wolf

Kael The dawn air is sharp and cold, slicing through the courtyard like a blade. My warriors move with efficient precision, forming patrol lines as the day’s orders are barked across the grounds. It should bring me a measure of reassurance, seeing them ready, alert.It doesn’t.The unease coiling in my gut has nothing to do with our defenses. It’s something far more dangerous.It’s her.Elara’s scent has been gnawing at me since the moment I woke.Or rather, the lack of it.I’d expected to smell her the second I stepped into the corridor. She’s always there, a quiet, constant presence lingering like wildflowers and rain. But today… nothing. The emptiness is wrong, jarring, like walking into a room where a fire has just been extinguished.At first, I told myself it was nothing. That she was still sleeping, curled in her bed, safe where I’d ordered her to remain.But now, with the sun climbing higher and still no sign of her, that unease sharpens into something primal.Fear.Not for me